akaashi's legs ached as he slouched against the polished hospital wall. he held his breath as he counted in his head.

"should i really give her this?" he muttered to himself.

akaashi glanced at the sunflower bouquet, with his hand ajar. he thought back to when they had first met, and how he admired her.

he was excited that he was getting closer to y/n, but the fact weighed on him. her condition was starting to get even worse.

y/n wasn't able to speak more than a few words every day. her voice had given up on her, and the doctors couldn't help.

fatal familial insomnia had no cure. all they could do is wait for her time to be up.

her face was littered with acceptance, no matter what would occur. it was almost like y/n had come to terms with the fact that she'd pass.

akaashi tried to clear his head so he wouldn't feel even more guilty. he had to give her these flowers after all.

he burst through the hospital door, sunflowers pushed out towards you. akaashi bowed down his head to hide his rapid blush.

she gave him a weak smile and put the sunflowers beside her before speaking in a raspy voice.

"keiji..."

she didn't have to say anything more because he had already jumped to her side.

her unsteady hands caressed his jawline in pure affection. she looked akaashi in the eyes lovingly as she pressed her lips against his cheek.

akaashi hated being in this hospital room. it felt suffocating and crowded. no matter how many decorations were in the room, it felt foreign.

the black bat cut-outs peeled off slowly at the sides. akaashi itched to remove them off the wall, but he didn't take action on it.

y/n couldn't go outside anymore. her body had gotten frail and she looked like she could've been blown away by the wind.

it was shocking how fast fatal familial insomnia worked. every day he got taunted by the fact that she would get even worse.

all he could do was wrap his arms around her figure and hope for the best.

akaashi tried to convince himself that she'd stick around, but the lump in his throat only grew more prominent.

"are you hungry? hospital food is terrible."

y/n broke out of akaashi's grasp, grabbing at her bed side counter. she took out a note pad and pen.

her fingers trembled as she wrote something, her handwriting basically being chicken scratch. she crossed out a word with her black pen, before showing him what she wanted to say.

akaashi raised a eyebrow as he read the messy handwriting.

i don't have a a̶p̶p̶l̶e̶t̶i̶t̶e̶ appetite :(

he gave her a quick thumbs up before laughing a bit. he couldn't believe that she'd spell appetite as 'appletite.'

"would you like to do a few laps around the hospital at least?"

with a nod, akaashi lifted her into her wheelchair as she held onto his broad shoulders.

she picked up her notepad and pen before letting him move the wheelchair.

as they went through the hospital corridor, they saw miracles and issues arising.

doctors and nurses running to the emergency room to help extremely injured patients, while others reconnected with their families and finally went home.

but akaashi paused when he saw the infirmary sign. he pushed the wheelchair slowly towards the window of the infirmary and looked inside.

babies were laid out in miniature beds with name tags. akaashi admired how adorable they were, and how much he wanted to pinch their cheeks.

y/n frowned as she looked at the babies.

she'd never be able to experience the feeling of raising children, she wouldn't get to graduate, she wouldn't be able to do anything.

y/n was missing out on so many important events that could've happened in her life, and it made her depressed to say the least.

when akaashi saw her frowning, his heart stopped.

"is anything wrong?"

she turned towards him with a poorly attempted smile.

she quickly wrote in her notepad.

it's fine.

her letters were still shaky, but a bit more firm than last time.

she looked away as akaashi continued to push the wheelchair.