No Such Thing As Tomorrow

Jiyoon squeezed Tao’s hand, trying desperately to fight her tears from falling.

“Hey, Tao,” she murmured. He blinked, smiling up at her. His breathing was heavy, tired, like he was struggling just to keep taking air into his lungs. “Are you feeling any better today?”

It’d already been nearly two weeks since Tao’s heart started to give out on him.

The pacemaker seemed to be helping him. It’d extended his life, saved him, for an extra two weeks. Originally, Dr. Lee thought Tao’s heart would give out in only two days.

Two weeks wasn’t a lot of time though.

Two weeks was fourteen days. Fourteen days was three hundred and thirty-six hours. Three hundred and thirty-six hours was twenty thousand, one hundred, and sixty minutes. Twenty thousand, one hundred, and sixty minutes was one million, two hundred and nine thousand, and six hundred seconds.

The numbers might have gotten bigger, but the length of time got shorter.

Everyone was worried that every day might’ve been Tao’s last.

He was in pain almost all day, every day, his heart beating irregularly and getting shocked into beating faster whenever it slowed. The impulses weren’t powerful or painful, but they were enough to cause Tao discomfort.

Dr. Lee was the most worried, and he told Tao’s friends why.

If Tao’s heart deteriorated any further, he would be at risk of heart failure, where the heart shut down, the body following soon after. The only thing they would be able to do to save him at that point was another surgery, where they would remove the pacemaker and place a ventricular assist device in his body instead.

He would be forced to walk around with it on him at all times.

But even that was only a temporary solution.

The only sure way to prevent the further deterioration of Tao’s heart was for him to get a new heart, one that wasn’t his own.

The thing was that Tao wouldn’t be hard to find a donor for, given his AB blood type, if only there were enough people in South Korea willing to donate their organs after death.

The list of recipients was so long and the list of donors was so short.

It was sad, really.

Most of the people on that list were going to die before they ever even had the chance to obtain a working organ that could save them.

The idea that Tao was possibly going to be one of them broke Jiyoon’s heart. The last thing she wanted was for him to suffer anymore. She wanted him to be able to live a long, happy life.

But Tao smiled like nothing was wrong.

Even on that day, he smiled like he wasn’t feeling weak. “Hi, Jiyoon. I’m doing a lot better, thanks,” rasped the dark-haired boy, giving her that same gentle, sweet smile that she knew so well.

It made her want to cry.

“That’s good,” she managed to choke out without crying. “I brought you some things.”

She pulled her bag onto her lap, opening the top and taking out an armful of items that she knew Tao would like.

Jiyoon held up the panda plush. “I saw it and it reminded me of you. I named it Taozi, and he’ll keep you company when I’m not here.” She placed it in Tao’s arms, which tightened around the soft toy. “I brought you some movies and a few books and some music. I don’t want you to be lonely here.”

He managed another weak, but sincere smile. “How can I be lonely when you barely leave my side?” he asked, reaching out a hand to cup her cheek.

The tiny brunette fought the tears that threatened to escape.

“I won’t leave you because I don’t want you to be alone.”

Jiyoon left the hospital with a heavy heart.

Visiting hours had just ended, and she knew after spending the day at the hospital that Tao’s time was drawing to a close.

He still spoke to her, still showed her all the love and affection that she didn’t deserve. But he was so much weaker than he had been in the past few weeks, although Jiyoon hadn’t thought that was possible.

But all throughout that day, Tao seemed fragile. He seemed like he’d fall apart at any moment if he was even touched the wrong way.

He looked like Jiyoon felt; in pieces.

A part of Jiyoon told her that there was nothing she could do, that everything that was happening was supposed to happen. But another part of her wanted to fight with all she had to keep Tao with her.

Most of that desire to keep Tao alive was for him. Tao was a good person. He had a temper, of course, and he was stubborn and reckless, but he was still a kind person. He was just one of those people that didn’t deserve to have his life cut so incredibly short by an illness unfairly dealt into the hand he was given.

Yet there was the very small part of her desire for Tao to live that was entirely selfish. It was of pure need and want for herself. Jiyoon needed for Tao to live, otherwise she would more likely than not fo