His cancer has progressed to stage 4 already. His body was weak and feeble, with several cables and tubes connecting it, and he was lying on his deathbed, looking up at the ceiling, tears welling up in his eyes as the moonlight streaming through the window illuminated it.

He turned to face the bright moon outside the window, and muttered, "The moon is beautiful isn't it?" He didn't want to see you sad; all he wanted to see before his time ran out was your smile. Which he had tried to protect.