Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sequences of high and somber pitches musical notes echoed throughout the orchestra hall. Politicians, ministers and business owners and their spouses  with their lavishly customised colourful dresses and black tuxedos occupied the thousands of red-cushioned seats, each of them paying their utmost attention to the pianist on stage. 

The title of the performance for that night was If I Am With You.

The mysteriously dark yet captivating piece of art was the latest composition of Geto Suguru, a young composer with the full potential of rising on top of the musical world. He pressed the keyboards swiftly and so sure of himself with his black tresses gleaming under the spotlight. The beautiful sounds and the melody flowed effortlessly with each press of his fingers, he was making flooded the entire hall and the magic of the sound drew everyone’s curiosity towards the man on the stage. Not long after that, he raised his fingers from the keyboards to signify the ending of his performance, as the gradually slow tunes then eventually faded into an end. He politely bowed to the audience and left the large stage. 

“You did well!” your soft voice greeted him as soon as he entered a white-tiled hospital room. As soon as he left the stage hall, he had immediately hopped onto his car and drove to the hospital. He looked at the direction of your voice and gently smiled at you. You, who were sitting on the bed, grinned and told everything he wanted to hear without him even asking for it. 

“If I wasn’t confined to this room, I would have seen you perform in front of a thousand of audience tonight. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to do so,” your gentle voice spoke up. 

Suguru let out a teasing scoff, his ears turning shades of pink. Nonsense. 

“You’re still here, that’s all that matters to me, Y/N.” He slowly strode to the bed you were on, and kissed your forehead. 

Suguru gazed at you, eyes darting towards yours. He had so many things he wanted to say but he raved this moment with you. He was so, so thankful he was here with you.  

You hummed. 

“What matters most to me is that you’ll get well and then we can do so many things together, and you can watch me play until your ears bleed.” Sitting next to your bed, he held your hands tightly as you felt his thumbs brushing your knuckles so soft and comforting. Like a gentle wind in spring that brushes your face and makes you think it’d be a good day to be in the sun. 

“If I Am With You was indeed a beautiful piece, Y/N.” 

You hummed as your eyes sparkled with joy upon receiving his compliments on your work. Indeed, you composed If I Am With You for him to perform on stage; he had always believed in your talent as a musical composer. 

Suguru admired your abilities, one where you would have random ideas and sounds, how your fingers would itch for a paper as soon as you figured a melody regardless how tiny that was. You always had a pencil with you everywhere, you figured having one would come in handy whenever you had some random spark of what would make a good tune. 

The two of you were best friends. You were in the same college and were about to finish what would be your post-teens together, things like the companies that you’d work in, the producers you’d collaborate with and the tunes you’d created together. 

All of those dreams were starting to become more of a fantasy as soon as Suguru heard those horrifying five-worded sentences from you. 

“I won’t live long, Sugu” he heard your soft mutters while you were enjoying your meal together at one of those cute quaint cafes you had in college. Suguru narrowed his eyes, indicating he could not comprehend your little whisper. 

“They can’t find me a new heart.” 

Suguru felt like there was a big rock stuck in throat. He searched for your eyes, he wanted to see any glimpse of a joke you’d pull off to scare him. You stayed silent after your announcement, your eyes wandered around from your lap to the back of his shoulders but never at his eyes. 

You couldn’t deal with this yourself too. 

“That’s not funny, Y/N.” 

“Because it’s not.” 

The moment he was able to absorb the news, the bento box he had in his dropped to the floor instantly and all he did was stretched his arms, the arms that had always gave you comfort, that had always hug you when he wanted to and no questions asked, that very same arms took you in them and his eyes watered. 

It wasn’t as if Suguru didn’t know this. He knew that at some point this would have happened, but he had always held hope that things could change. 

“I didn’t think it’d be this soon to decide.” His hands clutched the back of your clothes as he tightened his arms around you. 

He was desperately wishing that mid was only playing tricks on him.

From that day on, you promised to him that you would spend your last moments with him and cherished them until the last minute of your breath.

After class, Suguru would bring you your favourite food and tell you how his day went and how had managed to complete the songs you wrote for him. Some days when you were able to leave your bed, he would bring you to his studio to see him play. He had deliberately picked a studio nearby the hospital to make it easy for you to visit him. But you had never had to do it alone; Suguru had always been there to fetch you, bring you food and drive you to the studio. 

Some days when you were too weak to move, he would bring the piano pieces he recorded and put it on the speaker he gifted you some years back. He wanted you to feel some semblance of life when you were stuck there. You told him once that it wasn’t enough to just look out the window, you wanted to what was going on in the world beyond the four corners of your room. 

You thought Suguru was an absolute master in classical music with equally breathtaking masterpieces of music. No doubt Suguru spent countless of hours in that studio. You could see dark shadows under his eyes and the fine lines that had increasingly appeared as the days went by, you could always tell if he didn’t sleep well the night before. You knew that the storm that raged through his mind after you chased him out someday, you couldn’t bear to see the slump on his shoulders when he walked through your hospital door, the fatigue that he didn’t want to show you. 

You would then greet him with stories of what kinds of patients you met in the hospital, if someone was new or someone just got transferred from another ward and you would always let him know how you managed to get the inspiration for your music because of him.

But he knew even his music couldn’t compete with fate and what life had decided for the both of you.   

Everyday was the same routine for Suguru. After he practiced his music, he would find his way to the hospital and accompany you the whole night, even when you were being treated by the doctor and during the hours of your surgery. He waited and he waited patiently. Silently praying and wishing you would be okay. That he could always see you after you were escorted out from the operating theatre.

Each time and every so often he would find scrabbles of musical notes on your bed or under your pillow, you tried to surprise him afterall, as a sign that you were just as busy thinking of a new piece to let him play. 

One night, you entered your room while he was studying one of his pieces. Quietly by your bedside with small pieces of his hair strayed in front of his and his legs shaking and fingers holding your pencil drummed along the paper sheets. 

He looked up at you as he heard you coming in and raised an eyebrow. 

“How was the treatment today, princess?” 

You flashed a smile and took out a few pieces of paper. “While I was in the treatment room, I managed to complete this song. You have to play it for me, promise me okay!”

Suguru took the papers from your hands and stared at him. You made no sound. 

He tilted his head as his eyes found yours. 

“Well?” 

“Won’t say anything until you come here, baby.” He patted his leg. 

You grinned, you loved it when he called you with his different affectionate names. He always had a way of making you feel loved, afterall. 

His eyes were focused on the paper sheet, imagining what kind of sounds the music notes would produce, but his hands never left you. He placed an arm around you as you sat in his lap, his fingers casually sliding back and forth over your side and to your back. He loved it like this. He loved moments like this, he thought. When it was just you and him, tucked in your own little world, forgetting everything else. 

“Are you sure about this? I don’t know if I could play it that well,” he placed his head at the crook of your neck. 

Suguru thought he was again, given another mesmerising smile of yours as a sign that you had your utmost faith in him. That you believed in him wholeheartedly and blindly. 

The only smile he would never dare to erase from his life. 

“Just a little practice, Suguru. You know you’re the best pianist in the world!” 

Suguru teasingly scoffed. 

“Now go practice it and show me okay!”

You both stayed silent. 

“Now?”

“Now.”

“But visiting hours aren't even over yet,” he pouted. He looked way too adorable like that.

“You can show me tomorrow, I know you can!” 

He let out a soft sigh. He didn’t want to leave you but it wasn’t him to not fulfil your wishes. Whatever his lover wanted, his lover's wishes were his too. And he’d be a fool to not make them happen. 

With a heavy heart, Suguru reluctantly left the room and went to his studio to play out the notes you had for him. He looked thoroughly and began pressing on the keys.

Minutes felt like hours and hours felt like days, he managed to complete the piece. Just as the sun showed itself to the world, he exhaled deeply and took out his phone to call you. 

He told you to lend your ears to him as he played out the song you composed for him; he didn’t care if it was in the wee hours of the morning. He knew you’d be up anyway. 

“It’s perfect, Sugu!” you thanked him. He thought he could feel your smile through the phone, he didn’t need to see it so directly. He knew every tune and every wave of your voice. The sopranos and the bass; the high and low vibrations of the words you say and the breaths you take.

“I’ll be there soon, my love. I’ll get you the pastry you like.” He clicked off his phone and rushed out of the studio. 

Barely half an hour later, Suguru’s footsteps stalled, the pastry long forgotten on the floor as he saw nurses scrambling and yelling for the doctor, doctors rushing out sets of instructions to the nurses and the machines flatlining beeping. 

His screams calling out for you as he gripped your shoulders fell into nothing. 

You promised you’d wait for me if you go… Y/N.

He couldn’t hold onto his waterfall of tears and collapsed on the floor as he saw a lone tear dropped from your eye. 

I’m sorry I couldn’t be there in time. 

If I Am With You was apt. 

If only he had more time. 

If only he knew not to listen to you that one time. 

If only he stayed that night. 

I’m sorry.

 -----

Part 2 with an alternate ending? :)