Mizuki sat in the hospital waiting room, nervously tapping her feet on the floor, looking around. The room was crowded, filled with many others who were waiting. Mizuki was alone, trying to calm herself from anxious thoughts. She was reminiscing of the moment she had walked into the living room and found Ayumi lying face down on the ground, unconscious and barely breathing. Through her tears, Mizuki had tried  to find her pulse, but couldn’t. She was trembling too much. She remembered watching the paramedics carrying Ayumi’s body away, away from her, her body dangling from his arms like a corpse.

            And now here she was, sitting in the hospital waiting room. Burying her head in her hands, she remembered it all. The moment she met her. That day Ayumi’s smile was bright, beautiful even. It brought so much joy to every single person in the world. The world can’t lose her now.

            “Miss Fukumura?” Looking up from her hiding place, a middle aged man stood before her, looking quite grim. He subtly motioned with his hand to follow him. Mizuki got up, feeling eyes watching her. The girl followed him into an empty section of the hallway.

            “H- how is she?” Mizuki croaked, feeling a relatively large lump in the back of , tears threatening to fall. The man shook his head.

            “There’s no easy way for me to say this…” He began. He explained it thoroughly but it was simple. Ayumi had pancreatic cancer, dubbed the “silent killer.” “It’s often hard to detect, until the later stages. At this point it’s spread all throughout her body. There’s nothing we can do for her… She has a few weeks… a month at most. I’m sorry.”

            Mizuki stared straight ahead, her vision blurring. No… it can’t be happening. Not to Ayumi. Not to her best friend.

            After Mizuki was done crying, the doctor lead her into the room where Ayumi was staying in. The small girl was on her back, staring at the ceiling. Her frail body was hooked up to multiple machines, the steady beat of the heart monitor beeping in the background. Ayumi turned her head slightly and locked her dark eyes with Mizuki’s.

            “Mizuki? You… look like you’ve seen… a ghost.” Ayumi was the one who looked like a ghost. She was so pale. There was a small smile on her face. Mizuki could only stare, not being able to form any words. Mizuki couldn’t get the image of the paramedic carrying Ayumi’s lifeless body out of the house.Ayumi squinted. “They’re releasing me tomorrow,” She stated, trying to sit up, her voice raspy, slow, and gasping.

            “Ayumi…” Mizuki murmured against her wrist, which she held to her face. Ticking in time with the heart monitor, there was a clock on the wall, showing them the time. The moon was high in the dark sky, the stars shining brightly. “Get some rest,” Mizuki said, moving across the room towards the window. The younger girl complied, laying back on her pillow and closing his eyes. In a few minutes. Her soft breathing and the overbearing heart monitor were the only sounds in the room. Down the hall a blood curdling scream rang. Ayumi shifted slightly in her bed, but didn’t wake. Mizuki could do nothing but watch her, not sleeping, not moving, just watching.

 —-

            Ayumi didn’t wake until late morning. Mizuki was forced out of the room and back into the waiting room for another hour before Ayumi finally appeared before her in a wheelchair pushed by a young nurse. She clutched a bag to her chest.

            “Ready to go?” Ayumi asked, her voice chipper. Mizuki stood and walked next to Ayumi, who was being pushed in a wheelchair down the hallway. The hall was silent except for the sound of their shoes clicking on the floor. Ayumi turned to her, watching her friend curiously. Mizuki made eye contact with her and Ayumi smiled.

            “Don’t worry, okay? This is nothing,” She said, reassuringly. She smiled her infamous smile, bright just like the sunshine.

—-           

            A year later, Mizuki walked through the burial ground. The day was Ayumi’s eighteenth birthday. It was snowing, covering the ground with a beautiful white blanket.

            Mizuki knew exactly where Ayumi’s grave was. She had been there so many times it was like it was engraved in her memory. Mizuki dropped to the ground, placing blue carnations near her headstone. She felt a familiar lump in the back of , and swallowed it down, knowing Ayumi would want her to smile.

            Heaven had gained an angel.