In the darkness, Sana was backlit by the window. He was laid on the bed with me, looking more alert than I'd seen him in a long time. His finger was rubbing the back of my hand freely, much more movement than I'd seen. He was improving so much over the course of just a couple of days. It was incredible.

I admit, I had something on my mind. Something that had been weighing on me for a while.

The night before we came here, he'd said something to me which broke my whole world. A confession, that showed his pain to me. He'd never said anything like that to me before, but I'd wondered if he had something like that in him.

He'd been through so much in his life. A strict, abusive upbringing. A serious illness at such a young age. His girlfriend passing away. Then the same illness progressing, and now forcing him to change his life so much. He always tried to appear calm. I knew from experience with him by now that he was a master at appearing a certain way. He wanted to appear fine, but this illness was robbing him of that dignity more and more.

On that night, it had robbed him of all dignity. I knew at the time that he'd looked defeated, but I tried to come up with an excuse. But, the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I just hadn't wanted to believe that he was capable. I thought, as long as he's trying hard then we'll be alright. But, sometimes it's not possible to try your best. It's too much.

That night, he'd said to me, "watashi wa shinitai." Clear as day. I want to be dead. He'd said, "I don't want to live like this." He'd begged me.

I wanted to bring it up. I wanted to ask him about it. I wanted him to tell me more about how he felt. Maybe, I could help in some way. Maybe, there'd be some possible way to help, so this didn't go any further. If he could open up to me, then... But, he was always so tight lipped. He didn't tell me much about himself in the first place. He knew everything about me, but I knew very little about him, in reality.

I wanted him to open up to me. Tell me anything. He seemed stronger now. Was it possible?

"What are you thinking about?" He whispered to me. His finger was still rubbing on my hand.

"You." I clasped his hand more, and he stopped rubbing my hand. I pulled it to my chest, and the edges of his eyes pinched a little in happiness.

"Oh." He didn't know what to say, an awkward look on his face. Always so shy.

I decided to come right out with it. He was so alert right now. So strong. Maybe right now was the best time to do it. Who knew what could happen tomorrow?

"I wanted to ask you something. It's pretty sensitive, but I've been thinking about it. Is it okay?" I asked, holding his hand dearly still. I decided to keep it pressed to my chest, to show I cared about him. I knew he could be flighty when scared, so I'd keep it secure.

"Yes." He seemed unsure.

I squeezed his hand. No going back now. I took in a deep breath. "I know you might not want to talk about it, and I'm not judging you for it, but I wanted to ask about something you said to me before. I've been worried about it."

"What is it? I don't want you to worry." His eyebrows peaked a little bit, caring for me. It made my fingers close even more on his hand involuntarily.

"Well." I took another deep breath, and stared him in the face. "The night before we came here. You said you wanted to die. That you didn't want to live. Can you please tell me more about how you were feeling?"

His mouth opened, and he looked downward. Complete shock was written all over his face. I pressed his hand to my chest even more.

I continued before he could say anything. "I love you more than anything. I don't want you to feel that way. I want to help you. I love you..." I wanted to do more than help him. Anything he needed, I'd give to him. Just to make those feelings he had go away for good. I knew from the look on his face that he was scared by my words. Just from the last time I'd confronted him about something, I knew what he was thinking right now, or somewhat. I'd seen that look just one other time, when I'd told him I suspected he had Anorexia.

He pressed his lips together, still unwilling to look at me. "...You're not the cause. I just want you to know that."

"I know that. It's okay. Please tell me what's going on."

He swallowed. "I just want to disappear right now. It's hard to talk about this." He paused.

"I'll disappear with you wherever you want to go."

His eyes flicked up to me, and a tiny smile appeared.

"Okay..." He said, sighing deeply, maybe preparing himself to tell me something. I hoped that's where this was going. I sighed with relief inside, when he continued. "It's always hard for me to talk about myself. It's embarrassing. I never have any nice stories. No one wants to talk to someone who's always a bummer."

"I don't think you're a bummer. I want to know everything about you. I don't care if it's a sad story. In fact, it means even more to me that it would be."

"Oh, Tetsu..." He breathed, that small smile becoming a little bigger.

"Please tell me more. I want to know how you feel. I'm worried about you."

He blinked a long blink, and his lower lip suddenly poked out. In the low light, his eyes started to sparkle. I moved closer to him, my body touching his body. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him on top of me a little bit. He faced me, and I rested my hand on his head, as I settled him in one of his favorite positions, the side of his face on my neck. I took his other hand and pressed it to my chest. So fast, he was so comfortable on me. And so fast, I felt his warm tears on my neck. I stroked into his hair, and he sniffled.

"I know you're despairing," I whispered to him. "I knew since that night, and I suspected it before. I want to know more about it. It's scary for it to be a mystery. I wanted to know all that you're thinking."

He sniffled again. "Okay."

I waited for him. He was too emotional right now. It was better not to give him more pressure. After a while, he began to speak. Here was all that I'd wanted to know. No more curtain over the truth.

"I just feel like... I'm totally worthless. I can't hold a job anymore. I can't play my violin... I miss my violin so much, but I'm too weak to hold it up and practice as much as I want. I'm afraid... I want to practice, but if I find out I can't practice for as long as I want to, that I'm too weak to go on before I'm finished... That's just another sign that I'm getting too sick. I don't want to be too sick to function anymore. I thought, 'I'd rather be dead'. I'd rather not live than find out I really can't play my violin. My violin is a part of me. It's as a part of me as my heart. To lose that part of myself... And there's so many other things... Including that night, when I couldn't get up to go to the bathroom, that you're asking me about. I just thought, 'I'm so useless. I can't even go to the bathroom on my own. Who wants someone around who can't even go to the toilet?' You're so young, and there's so many other people who'd be interested in you. Why me? Someone who can't even go to the toilet. I thought, 'if I'm dead, then Tetsu can go find someone else who's better.' That's what I was thinking. I think, if I can't even go to the toilet, why am I even alive? I can't do even that for myself. No one's going to have fun with me. I'll just be a burden on others. There's no point for me to be here. I'm useless to society and to everyone I know. I expect my band to disband when they realize I can't come back. Maybe they'll find a different singer and continue. That would devastate me. I don't want to feel those feelings. Better that I'm dead so I don't have to."

I'd closed my eyes as he spoke. I was expecting something like this, but to hear it out loud. My arms had descended, and I held him close. "I don't want anyone else. You're all that I want. You're so much more than what you can do for others. You don't have to do anything." Tears filled my lashes. My throat was tight.

"I have to be useful. I can't be a burden on other people. I can't even go to the toilet on my own. I need so much help." He wasn't crying anymore, just telling it like he thought it was. It wasn't true. Had he convinced himself that he was useless? This whole time, when he wouldn't talk to me? Had he formulated all of this? I wanted to put a stop to it. How could I convince him?

"You're not a burden. I love you. You're my whole world."

"Why?"

"Oh, 'why'? You don't have to ask that." I held him even tighter. "You do so much more than what you think. Your love is enough. You don't have to do anything."

He let out a half gasp in his throat, and he was crying again. Tears from deep down, I could tell. The sounds he was making. They were desperate, painful things.

"My love," I whispered. I pulled him upwards, so we could be face to face. His head was pointed down a little, trying not to look at me still. I took advantage and kissed his forehead once, then over and over. He shook in his grief, everything coming out. "Tell me more," I said, kissing his forehead again. "I want to know what you're thinking. Everything. I want to know a sad story. You don't have to keep it in. We're in this together. I'm not going anywhere."

He looked up at me, his eyes swimming in tears. I swept the tears on his cheeks away with my thumb.

Like this, he began to tell me a story. Things that had been on his mind. Everything I wanted, right here, finally accessible.