The first time I met Itoshi Sae was at the hospital. A genius prospect. Japan's treasure. I was the person who witnessed the helplessness of such an extraordinary human being from the closest distance.

A large hospital in Tokyo. The early spring sunlight slanted through the hospital room window, tinting his reddish hair. Looking at the edges glowing gold, I thought it looked like a flickering light about to go out. As if he had sensed my rude thought, he shot a sharp glare at me. I awkwardly looked away, pretending to be busy with something else.

It was the third day since Itoshi Sae had been diagnosed as terminally ill. They said it was a rare disease. Only a few people in the hospital knew this. But rumors would surely spread quickly.

I thought a person with that much fame and career would cry and make a scene upon receiving a terminal diagnosis, but Itoshi Sae didn't. He was calmer and colder than anyone else, and he even practiced football in the hospital room despite the nurse's protests.

?

Is he crazy? Whenever I glared at him with that thought, the ball would accurately hit the wall right next to my head. I quietly lowered my eyes, wondering if that man was really someone who was going to die.

It was the third week. The sound of the ball bouncing, thud, thud. The day he would die was two months away.

"Hey."

Itoshi Sae spoke to me for the first time. I dropped the spoon I was using to eat the tasteless hospital food. When I looked up, I saw him looking down at me with a football tucked under his arm. He twitched his eyebrows as he looked at the tray where the spoon had fallen as if it were filthy, then opened his mouth again.

"Why are you here?"

"Rare disease."

"……Terminally ill?"

"Yeah. Three months."

"Tch. Boring."

I narrowed my eyes, unable to bring myself to say, 'What are you talking about, you're dying sooner than me, you jerk.' What's the point of being harsh to someone in a similar situation?

"Why do you keep playing football?"

I asked that question out of simple curiosity.

"To send the best pass to the best striker before I die."

A grand reason came back as an answer. I lifted my head and looked at his seriously stiff profile.

"Noel Noa?"

"He's a great player. But no."

"Then who is it? Leonardo Luna? Aren't you in the same club?"

"I acknowledge his skill, but I don't acknowledge him as the world's best."

"Man, you're really picky."

Itoshi Sae's brow furrowed. I quickly shoved food into my mouth. I'll eat, so you just keep talking.

"…My brother."

Then, that answer came back. I looked up at him blankly, my cheeks puffed out. His dark teal pupils wandered through the air. I couldn't say anything and just quietly handed him a piece of candy that was nearby.

"You don't want to die, do you?"

A question I could ask as someone in the same boat. His narrowed eyes relaxed slightly. Instead of answering, he looked out the window. At the world where new life was being born, unlike us who were fading away.

It was I who broke the silence.

"Pass it to your brother."

I said to his back. The reason? It could be an impulse, or it could be a sense of kinship. Even so.

"I'll remember it."

Even if it's only for one month longer.