[indent][b]"Hey, Natsu ..."[/b] Yuma's healthy voice came to life after a sterile pause. [b]"So this is the tenth file ... I think. You know me, I'm not all that good at keeping track of things."[/b] His long-lost, vibrant chuckle stuttered out before rambled on about his impending doom. 

Natsu clenched his pocketed fist, though his expression, unmoved and etched in stone, was still indifferent. It had been far too long since he had heard Yuma's true laughter. Far, far too long. He looked up between his sky-hued bangs while his same-colored eyes peered at the partially opened door of some poor patient.   

A nurse and doctor walked in tandem as they continued some medical discussion. The words were jumbled, nothing coherent. Except the word "lung" which was really loud to him for some reason.

Natsu eyed them till they left then stood up and headed through the floors to the hospital's exit. Yuma wasn't in the hospital yet but Natsu could see him coughing more and the subtle grasping of his chest when they were at home. It was painfully obvious that slowly, he was getting worse, and yet Natsu chose to ignore it.

[center][b]*  *  *[/b][/center] 

[b]"You gotta believe that all this happened for a reason. I'm dead. You can't change it, I couldn't stop it, but ... you have to believe that its' okay."[/b]

Natsu plucked the earphones from his face before tucking them next to his phone in his pocket. [color=lightblue][b]"Its not okay,"[/b][/color] he muttered in front of his apartment complex, contemplating if he could stomach the guilt, anguish, and chaos that swelled inside.  

[center][b]*  *  April 26th  *  *[/b][/center]

Natsu moved through the crowd like a specter, unnoticed and downtrodden. No one asked him how he was doing. If he had needed a shoulder or an ear. No one cared; he was used to thinking that before. Now ... Now his mind worked tirelessly to overcome some mental mixture of chaos. It pushed back everything unnecessary and brought clarity to his three most important duties. 

His brother: Yuma, Gunpla battle, and his own stability. 

As he passed through the early morning hall, where silence reigned, he listened intently to the eleventh file. 

[b]"File eleven. I smoked too much..."[/b] 

That was all he needed to hear before snatching the earphones from his ears and sliding his phone to the furthest side of the hallway.  Though his eyes remained unmoved, his breathing had sped up. He stared at the old phone for a long moment.[/indent]