Jesse learns a skill he never wanted: how to stay, even when everything is already wrong.
He has known for months. Not because Juri made a big announcement. Not because there was a dramatic confession.
Juri mentioned it once, like he was talking about the weather.
They were sitting in Juri’s apartment. Takeout boxes on the table. Something half-watched on TV.
Juri said, casually, “I’m sick.”
Jesse blinked. “Like… flu sick?”
Juri shook his head. “Like never-getting-better sick.”
That was it—no buildup. No crying.
Just a statement.
Jesse didn’t know what to say—so he did the Jesse thing: he asked logistics.
“What kind?”
“Does Taiga know?”
Juri answered the second question first.
“No.”
Jesse frowned. “Why not?”
Juri looked at him. Not dramatic. Not pleading. Just very, very sure—“Because he’ll stay.”
Jesse understood immediately. He hated that he understood.
“So what are you going to do?” Jesse asked.
Juri shrugged. “I already did it.”
“Did what?”
“I broke up with him.”
Jesse felt something crack in his chest.
“That’s… stupid,” Jesse said automatically.
Juri nodded.
“Yeah.”
Silence.
Jesse rubbed his face.
“You’re going to let him think you fell out of love.”
Juri didn’t answer. Which was also an answer.
“Juri,” Jesse said, carefully, “you don’t get to decide what ruins people.”
Juri looked away. “I do if I’m the problem.”
Jesse almost argued. Almost said a hundred things. Almost told Juri this was wrong.
But Jesse had always been good at recognizing when someone has already made a decision they planned to die with.
So he said the only honest thing left.
“Do you want me to lie for you?”
Juri met his eyes.
“Yeah.”
Jesse nodded.
“Sounds like a deal,” Jesse said. “If that’s what people call it these days.”
Heavy sarcasm. Zero humor.
Juri winced faintly. “You don’t have to.”
Jesse exhaled hard, rubbing his face with both hands like he can physically wipe this entire situation away.
“You're right,” Jesse said. “I don't. But I'll do it anyway."
"I’ll lie for you. I’ll keep Taiga from knowing. I’ll watch him think you fell out of love. I’ll watch him blame himself.”
Juri didn’t look away, hating the logic he built himself come out of Jesse's mouth.
Jesse lets out a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob and fully undignified. He dropped his hands. Looked at Juri.
Flat.
“You better not die thinking this makes you a hero,” Jesse muttered.
Juri’s mouth twitched. “I wasn’t aiming for hero.”
“Good,” Jesse snapped. “Because this is stupid.”
Silence.
Then, quieter, “I hate your choices.”
Juri nodded. “I know.”
Jesse swallowed. “I’m still here.”
Not because he agreed. Not because he thought it’s noble.
But because Juri asked.
And because Jesse loves him in the ugly, inconvenient, loyal way.
Jesse looked away, jaw tight.
Juri closed his eyes. “I know.”
Jesse leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling.
“God,” he said. “We really know how to pick each other, huh.”
Juri exhaled a weak huff. “Unfortunately.”
Another silence. Not comfortable. Not hostile. Just real.
Jesse wiped at his face roughly. “Don’t make me regret this more than I already will.”
Juri opened his eyes. “Thank you.”
Jesse didn’t answer. He just stayed. Which, in Jesse-language, was the loudest yes he had.
That was the deal.
Not between Juri and Taiga. Between Juri and Jesse.
And Jesse has been paying for it ever since.
He watches Taiga spiral quietly. Watches him pretend he’s fine. Watches him date people that never last. Watches him blame himself.
Every time Taiga says something like, “I guess I just wasn’t enough,”
Jesse feels physically ill.
But he doesn’t say anything. Because Juri asked him not to.
And because Jesse is loyal in the most self-destructive way.
He gets very good at pretending nothing is wrong.
Worse—he gets away with it.
By the time Juri is admitted for comfort care, Jesse is exhausted in a bone-deep way.
He visits—he brings small things. He sits.
Sometimes Juri is lucid. Sometimes he isn’t.
One day, Juri says, out of nowhere:
“Does Taiga still hate me?”
Jesse hesitates. “Not… hate.”
Juri accepts that.
“I can live with that.”
Jesse almost laughs. Almost screams. Almost does both.
The day Jesse runs into Taiga in the hospital corridor is not dramatic. No swelling music. No slow motion.
Just bad timing. The worst kind.
Jesse sees Taiga first.
Taiga looks normal. Annoyed. Bored. Alive.
Jesse thinks, This is about to end.
Taiga says Jesse’s name. Casual. Friendly.
“Hey. What are you doing here?”
Jesse opens his mouth.
The lie is ready. He’s practiced it. But then he thinks about Juri in that bed. About Taiga blaming himself. About carrying this alone forever.
And something in Jesse finally breaks.
“Juri’s here,” Jesse says.
Taiga relaxes. “Oh. Tell him I said hi.”
Jesse doesn’t move, and Taiga notices.
“…Why is he here?”
Jesse swallows.
“He’s sick.”
Taiga frowns.
“How sick?”
Jesse exhales.
“Terminal.”
The word drops. It doesn’t bounce. Doesn’t echo. Just… lands.
Taiga says, “No,” like he’s correcting a typo.
Jesse doesn’t correct him back. That’s how Taiga knows.
Jesse watches Taiga’s face change.
Not collapse. Reassemble. Like a building quietly realizing it has no foundation.
“I didn’t know,” Taiga says.
Jesse nods. “I know.”
Taiga looks at Jesse. Something raw in his eyes.
“Did he ever stop loving me?”
Jesse answers instantly. “No.”
No hesitation. No nuance. Just simple and plain truth.
Taiga closes his eyes.
Jesse gestures down the hall. “Do you want to see him?”
Taiga nods.
Jesse turns and walks. Because if he looks at Taiga any longer, he might start apologizing.
And Jesse doesn’t know how to apologize for surviving someone else’s choice.
As they walk, Jesse thinks:
I helped Juri disappear. I helped Taiga suffer. I did what I was asked.
And I will never be okay about it.
Which is, unfortunately, very Jesse.
Jesse closes the door quietly behind him.
The room looks different without Taiga in it.
Not emptier. Heavier.
Like something essential was just removed and the space hasn’t adjusted yet.
Juri is awake. Not fully alert.
That in-between state where consciousness floats.
His eyes track toward the door.
“Did he go?” Juri asks.
Jesse doesn’t pretend.
“Yeah.”
Juri nods once.
No drama. No visible reaction. Which somehow feels worse.
Jesse moves to the chair Taiga was sitting in. He doesn't sit at first.
He just stands there, staring at Juri.
“He shouldn’t have had to find out like that,” Jesse says.
Juri’s mouth tilts faintly.
“He shouldn’t have had to see me at all.”
Jesse exhales through his nose.
“That’s not how this works.”
Juri doesn’t argue.
He looks tired in a way that has nothing to do with illness.
“You told him,” Juri says.
Not accusing. Not surprised. Just stating a fact.
Jesse nods. “I did.”
A beat.
“I’m sorry.”
Juri closes his eyes for a second.
When he opens them, they’re clear. Not bright.
Clear.
“It was always going to happen,” Juri says. “Just… a lot sooner than I wanted.”
Jesse swallows.
“When were you planning to tell him? After you’re dead?”
He shakes his head. Disappointed. Not at all surprised. “That was never part of the plan.”
Juri doesn’t speak.
“You really thought that was going to work,” Jesse says. Flat. Drained.
“He knows now,” Jesse adds. “About the illness. About the timing. About why you left.”
Juri absorbs that.
Slow. Careful.
“Does he hate me?”
Jesse shakes his head immediately.
“No.”
Juri exhales. Not relief. Acceptance.
“That’s good,” Juri says. “I can work with that.”
Jesse laughs once. Sharp. Broken.
“You are unbelievable.”
Juri almost smiles.
Jesse finally sits.
He leans forward, elbows on his knees.
“You know what he said about you?”
Juri looks at him.
“He said he would’ve stayed,” Jesse says.
Juri’s throat moves.
“He said you don’t get to decide what ruins him.”
Juri closes his eyes again. Jesse keeps going.
“He said he loved you before he understood. While he didn’t understand. And after he understood.”
Silence.
Juri doesn’t cry. Not because he doesn’t want to. Because he doesn’t have the energy.
“That’s very Taiga,” Juri murmurs.
Jesse nods. “That’s the problem.”
Juri opens his eyes.
“I did what I had to do,” he says quietly.
Jesse doesn’t argue.
He can’t. Because Juri did.
But Jesse also says, “You don’t get points for choosing the loneliest version of love.”
Juri’s lips twitch.
“Story of my life.”
Jesse’s voice cracks.
“You let him think he wasn’t enough.”
Juri looks at the ceiling.
“I let him think I was an asshole.”
“Same difference to him.”
Juri swallows.
“Was he… okay?”
Jesse doesn’t sugarcoat.
“No.”
Juri nods.
“That tracks.”
Jesse stares at him.
“You still think you did the right thing.”
Juri doesn’t answer immediately.
Then—
“I think I chose the kind of wrong I could live with.”
Jesse wipes at his face roughly.
“You’re dying,” Jesse says. “You don’t get to pretend this is a philosophy exercise.”
Juri looks at him. Soft. Serious.
“I didn’t leave because I stopped loving him.”
Jesse nods.
“I know.”
“I left because loving him made me want to stay,” Juri says. “And staying would’ve destroyed him.”
Jesse’s voice drops.
“You don’t know that.”
Juri’s gaze doesn’t waver.
“I know Taiga.”
That’s it. That’s the whole argument.
Jesse leans back in the chair. Defeated.
“I hate this,” Jesse says.
“Me too,” Juri says.
Silence settles.
Not hostile. Not peaceful. Just… real.
After a while, Juri asks, “Did he look at me?”
Jesse smiles faintly, despite himself.
“Yeah.”
“How?”
“Like you were still his.”
Juri closes his eyes.
He doesn’t speak again for a bit.
When he does, it’s barely above a whisper.
“I’m glad he didn’t hate me.”
Jesse reaches out. Carefully.
He squeezes Juri’s hand.
“You don’t get to be hated,” Jesse says. “You’re too stupidly in love for that.”
Juri huffs a weak breath.
“Sorry.”
Jesse shakes his head.
“For what?”
“For making you lie.”
Jesse shrugs.
“I’d do it again.”
Juri looks at him and Jesse meets his gaze.
“But don’t ask me to,” Jesse adds.
Juri almost smiles.
Jesse sits there.
Because Taiga left, but Juri is still here.
Someone has to witness both.
And apparently, tonight, that someone is Jesse.