On the numbingly cold day that was January 3rd, at 8:04 PM, snow had fallen for the first time that year. Bokuto was the first to notice this, but had also been the last to say anything about it.

It wasn't until Akaashi looked up from his laptop screen that he realized it was snowing heavily outside. His eyes lit up, intent on informing Bokuto, but when he turned his head to get a look at him, instead of being greeted by an over enthusiastic friend, he was presented with an unfazed expression upon Bokuto's weary face.

Akaashi frowned.

"Bokuto? Don't you see it?"

Looking up from the laptop screen, Bokuto directed his attention to Akaashi.

"Wh...?"

"The snow? It's snowing outside."

Bokuto turned his head to catch another look out the window. Surely enough, snow was falling, and in chunks too, but this did not grasp Bokuto's attention. Frankly speaking, it had no affect on him in the slightest. He managed a feeble shrug and turned to continue on with the movie that he'd watched for the thirtieth time already.

Akaashi was genuinely confused.

"I thought you were waiting for the snow. I thought it was what you wanted..."

His eyelids drooping and then snapping open again, Bokuto made a small sound.

"Mnh-... I... See it... All the t-ime."

Just then, Akaashi's lips parted in realization. Bokuto's hallucinations had become such a part of him, that he thought the snow outside was just another mind trick. He breathed in sharply.

"It's not a hallucination, Bokuto. It's actually snowing."

"..." Bokuto looked up to stare out the window again. There was a longing in his eyes that Akaashi couldn't stand to see. With barely an ounce of strength left, Bokuto pulled himself up a tad to get a better look outside. Curiosity had sparked within him. He wanted to know if it was real or not. He hated how difficult it had become for him to tell apart the real things from the fake ones.

"I'll show you." Akaashi stood from his seat and walked to the windowsill. There, he parted the glass slightly. A gust of icy wind charged its way into the room in an instant, draining the warmth from everything it touched.

Bokuto's skin crawled, goose bumps pimpling his porcelain surface. He pulled the thick blanket over himself with much effort.

Swiftly, Akaashi closed the window, having gathered just enough snow off the edge for him to show to Bokuto. He strode to him quickly, cupping the already melting snow in his hands. Bokuto held out his own, eager to see if it were true.

"See, look." Akaashi placed the small, white compressed lump of snow into Bokuto's palm. This earned a gasp from him. Bokuto stared down at the white clump of melting ice, and with one finger, he pressed against it to watch it fall apart. The tiny snowflakes deteriorated in the warmth of his palm, leaving a small puddle behind.

A gasp escaped Bokuto. His eyes widened as much as they could.

"Akaashi!"

"I know."

"Take me... Outside!"

"It's freezing." Akaashi murmured the words and looked Bokuto up and down. He was nothing more than a blanket with a head. "You tremble when it's seventy degrees in the room. Right now, it's about... Ten degrees outside."

"Please, Akaashi."

Pressing his lips into a thin slab of a line, Akaashi shook his head once more. He found it much too difficult to say no to Bokuto, but it had to be done.

"I can't..."

"But why?" Bokuto's spirits fell, his frown deep.

"That weather will only hurt you. You need to be protected."

"F-from... What?" Bokuto stared at Akaashi, his features having gone from disappointed to unaccepting.

Akaashi drew in a breath, but found that he couldn't say anything. He watched Bokuto with a wary gaze, unaware of what he was to say next.

"I'm already in... Death row. I can.. B-arely speak. I can bare-ly walk... I can't eat. I can't... Sl..eep. The l-last thing you..." He clenched his jaw, frustrated with himself and the words he spoke, "... You... Need to do.. Is worry about me... C-atching a... Cold."

"Bokuto."

"C... Cold or n-not... I'm still... Not going to last v-... Very long. So please... Let me have this."

His eyes were glued to Akaashi's, and Akaashi found that he was unable to look away. Bokuto's eyes said everything to him. He translated all that his words could not.

Akaashi looked down and away from Bokuto, then back to the window.

"... I think the window will be as far as we can go." He said in a hushed voice.

"That's... Fine with me." And just like that, a smile found Bokuto's face again.

Akaashi sighed to himself, frustrated with how easily he'd given in to Bokuto's begging. But as he thought of it, he figured he couldn't be blamed for it. He didn't want to be the one to say no to someone who had little to nothing left in his life.

There was that, and the fact that Akaashi couldn't help but find Bokuto's smile endearing, no matter how sickly he looked when he wore one.

"Come on..." Akaashi reached a hand out to help Bokuto to his feet. He urged him to keep the blanket around him, but Bokuto insisted that he leave it behind. He held onto the IV stand with one hand and Akaashi's hand with his other as he hobbled over to the window. Bokuto's hands were as cold as ice, causing Akaashi's concern in him to grow even more. But no matter how much he worried for him, Akaashi continued on their way to the window at a slow and steady pace until they finally made it.

Once there, Bokuto pulled his hand from Akaashi's and leaned it against the windowsill. The air was bitter and cold, and it hit Bokuto like a slap to the face as another gust of wind forced its way into the hospital room. This did not faze him, however, as Bokuto only closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, allowing the burn of the winter air to fill his lungs. When he exhaled, a puff of smoke left him. Bokuto stuck his head out of the window slightly and kept it there as the snowflakes fell all around him.

"Don't do that." Akaashi pulled Bokuto back inside. He expected to hear a whine of resistance from him, but instead received nothing. Bokuto only complied and stuck his entire arm out instead, watching as each individual snowflake passed around his limb, as if none wanted to touch him. On occasion, one or two would land on him, and he would draw his hand in quickly to try and see if he could make out the small pattern on them. He would study them for quite a while until they melted and left behind nothing more than a droplet on his arm. After this, he would repeat the same process, paying little to no mind to the freezing cold that surrounded him.

Akaashi watched Bokuto, mesmerized by his actions. He almost portrayed the behaviors of a child, sticking to an activity and refusing to let it up, repeating whatever he was up to without having anyone to tell him to stop. Akaashi furrowed his brow and looked outside, away from Bokuto. That familiar feeling of dread was rising from deep within him, something Akaashi wanted to forget. He placed one hand on the windowsill and squeezed, his knuckles going white.

They shared another moment of silence, something that occurred more often than Akaashi would have liked. Though Bokuto's speaking skills weren't as good as they used to be, he was still the more talkative one out of the two. So whenever he went silent, an unwelcomed feeling of discomfort found its home within Akaashi. He wanted to rid himself of this feeling, rid himself of this silence, so he searched his mind in haste for any word that came to mind. He needed something – anything – to say to Bokuto, just so that he could liberate himself of the horrid feeling that threatened to overtake him.

"You know... I never asked." Akaashi managed to say, staring out into the distance. "Why are you so fond of the snow, Bokuto?"

He waited for an answer, but did not receive one. Unnerved, he spoke up again.

"I mean, in your state now, it's a bit clichéd, don't you think?" It was his attempt at brightening the mood, or "being funny," as some called it, but alas, his words had fallen flat on the ground as he received another silent reply from Bokuto. Akaashi frowned deeply. He turned his head to get a clear look at Bokuto's face, but instantly wished he hadn't.

In his silence, Bokuto wept to himself, fat tears rolling down his cheeks in numbers. The hand that supported his weight against the windowsill trembled without pause, and his other remained outside, shaking in the cold dead of night. Several flakes had gathered on the outstretched limb, but they were not quick to melt. They settled there, deeming Bokuto one of them for the remainder of their frozen lives before they eventually melted or fell away.

Akaashi stared at Bokuto, opened his mouth to say something, but found that he couldn't form even one simple word. Realizing this, Akaashi decided to take action instead and reach out to comfort him, but not even this he could do. His arms and legs were stiff, as were his eyes. All he could do was stare at the melancholic performance that played out before him.

Do something... Akaashi closed his mouth and swallowed.

Do something... Anything .

Akaashi's body didn't respond.

He could only watch as those tears fell at a faster pace, down onto his hospital gown and onto the floor. The light that came from outside reflected off of Bokuto's teardrops, lighting his face up in the most gentle of ways. Eventually, Bokuto drew back his hand and let it fall to his side. He hung his head and tried to keep his crying controlled in the best way possible, but this proved to be very difficult as sobs broke out of him, causing his entire being to shake.

After a moment of trying to gather himself, Bokuto choked out two simple words with quivering lips.

"Why... me..?"

Akaashi stared on as his mind searched for words. He found some and said them without a second thought.

"Because life is unfair."

Bokuto reached up a cold, frail hand to wipe at the mess that was his face. "I w...anted to do s-so many things..."

"I know." Akaashi balled his hand into a fist, mentally scolding himself for the present lack of emotion in his voice.

As Bokuto backed away from the window, Akaashi was quick to close it, locking the bitter night air out of the room for the remainder of the night. He then reached out and took hold of Bokuto's arm to help him back to the bed.

Once they'd reached it, Bokuto resumed his usual position and wrapped the thick blanket around himself, then turned away from Akaashi. He watched the window quietly, paying no mind to his visitor, or so Akaashi thought. In a matter of minutes, just as Akaashi had started to fidget, Bokuto spoke up.

"Akaashi..."

"Yes?" His undivided attention was on Bokuto.

He hesitated for a moment, but finally spoke up. "I don't want you to visit me anymore."

Akaashi's eyes squinted to the words, and he leaned forward in shock. "What?"

"Please... Don't visit me... Anymore."

"No." Akaashi stood from his seat.

"Please-"

"No. It's a little too late for that, Bokuto." A shiver racked Akaashi, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand.

"Akaashi, please..."

"No is my final answer." He stalked over to the other side of the bed, where he would be able to look at Bokuto's face. Once Bokuto noticed this, he turned his head and slowly rolled away. Akaashi's eyes widened, his emotions now falling victim to a strange mix of fear and fury.

"Bokuto, what is the meaning of this?"

Bokuto didn't respond. He remained in the same position and only moved his hand to wipe at his face again.

"Answer me."

Sucking his teeth, Bokuto pulled the blanket up to just beneath his chin. It took some time, but he finally answered.

"I don't want you... to grow... any m-more attached to me th-than y-you already are."

Akaashi nearly scoffed. "What makes you think I'm attached to you? I never said that I was."

This time, Bokuto directed his attention to Akaashi. He wore a grimace upon his reddened face.

"Sh-shut up, Akaashi..." He breathed in deeply, frustrated with himself and the gradual growth of his speech impediment, but continued on. "I know... You hate hosp-itals. Don't... Come telling m-me now that you... Have only been... coming here every day because y-you wanted to."

Akaashi had nothing else to say. He stared at Bokuto with his lips parted, as if he were going to speak, but ended up speechless.

"I know that... You care... Ev-... Even if it's just a little bit." Bokuto covered his mouth and coughed suddenly. He found that speaking was taking much more energy than he thought. Still, he continued to talk. "I don't... Know much about this... Disease. Partly be-...cause I was too afraid to read up on it. But... I know I don't have... much time left." His frustration slowly faded, and all that was left behind upon his pale face was a look of defeat.

"One, maybe two months at most, if I'm lucky. That's... How long I know I have... Left."

The air around Akaashi thickened, and suddenly he found it difficult to breathe.

Bokuto looked down and twisted his lips to the side. "I heard the doctors talking. They d...on't know how to... H-heal me, so..." From beneath the blanket, Akaashi could see Bokuto's shoulders rise and fall. "It's just... A slow, downhill ride f-f...rom here. And I d-don't want you to... See it all h-hap...pen."

Bokuto lay there glass-eyed, his welled up tears glinting in the dim lighting of the room.

"I don't... Want you to... Watch me decay."

Small tears spilled out of Bokuto's eyes and rolled down his hauntingly placid features. "So I figured if you left now... You... Wouldn't have to... And it wouldn't h-hurt so much..."

Once again, that crippling spell took hold of him, and Akaashi couldn't move, nor could he speak. All he could do was watch in muted anguish as Bokuto finally accepted what had become of his short lived life. Akaashi realized that those smiles he'd seen before were smiles of denial – forced grins that tried desperately to trick Bokuto into thinking that everything would be fine. But he couldn't keep it up forever. Not in the state that he was in. Bokuto had always been struggling to keep a positive front, but inside, he was falling apart all along.

Akaashi knew this now.

In an attempt to move, he tapped his fingers against his legs at an impatient pace. He was trying everything he could to psych himself into doing at least something to let Bokuto know that he was there for him.

Do something... As if he were one of the living dead, Akaashi forced one leg forward, then the next, until he was touching the bed side. He pushed his negative thoughts aside and sat himself down in bed, right next to Bokuto. Akaashi did not give him time to react to this as he moved closer still, and when he was close enough, he lowered his head to lean it on Bokuto's shoulder.

Akaashi squeezed his hands together to keep them from shaking uncontrollably.

"I'm not leaving, Koutarou." His voice was hushed, gentle. "And nothing you say will make me leave."

Bokuto kept silent. Not a word left him, even as he reached a hand up to wipe at his face again. He only sniffed on occasion, and shifted in place, but never did he say anything to oppose Akaashi's decision.

He was glad.

Akaashi turned his head slightly, his cheek gently resting on Bokuto's shoulder. He took in a slow, deep breath and closed his eyes, and his eyebrows knit together for only a second. His hands quivered as he dug his nails into his knuckles.

Bokuto no longer smelled like a hospital.

Bokuto smelled like... Home.