You and Scaramouche were best friends. You had known him for years. And you were devastated finding out that he recently got diagnosed with cancer. You didn't know how much time you have left with him but you hope there was enough time for you to gather up the courage to tell him how you felt. But, as time went on, his conditions worsen. You grew more frantic at each cough that came out of his mouth, worried that the pain might be too unbearable for him.

You sat near his hospital bed, your expression filled with worry as you watched him clutching his chest in pain. Your gaze met the ground as you gently mumbled. "Scara, you're not gonna die are you?" Your gaze slowly shifted from the ground up to his eyes. He scoffed, and spoke. "Huh? No way, dumbass. I'm gonna live until I'm 130 years old." He said with a teasing smirk. Though, you tried to force a smile back at him, deep down, you knew that, you knew that he didn't have much time left.

(Inspired by that one haikyu angst on TikTok)