(CHAPTER UPDATE: Ending has been changed.)

Drip... drip...

In a silent hospital room, fourth-floor number 156, lay a pale, 19-year-old man atop a blue sheet cot.

The only audible sounds were the constant droplets inside the iv pack, attached to his frail wrist via tube and constantly pumping him with various medicines.

As he lay there, passed out in slumber, his face showing a tired yet calm expression, the birds from out of the window began to peer inside.

They were as curious as the sun's vibrant rays, wanting to enter and examine the ever-so-tranquil figure.

Outside of the room, the boy's grandfather spoke with his doctor.

"Are you sure nothing can be done? Please, examine once more for me, I will pay whatever the amount." He said with a broken, old voice through his worn-down vocal cords.

His eyebrows curled inwards in sorrow as he spoke.

The taller male doctor spoke after pausing for a moment, looking at the older gentleman with an indescribable look on his face.

"Sir... you have been asking us this question for 15 years. You know as well as I that his disease is not curable." The doctor spoke, trying to sound empathetic but also tired of answering the same question over and over again.

It wasn't easy to tell an elder that his grandson was dying, but being forced to repeat such a grim outcome again and again was feeding on his mental well-being.

After the doctor's reply, the older man faced the ground, his face shadowed in despair.

The doctor was slightly taken aback by this kind of reaction.

He saw drooped shoulders and depressed faces every day at work, but he never expected one would come from this optimistic old man, who had kept up his hope for over one and a half decades.

"So... do you know how long he has left?" The old man spoke, his voice crackling slightly.

It was obvious that he was trying to hold in his tears.

This surprised the doctor even more than before.

Although they did not know each other personally, he had seen this old man for many years and had grown accustomed to his personality.

This, however, was completely out of the blue. It felt like the old man's entire aura had changed.

Before, he would never ask such a sad question and accepted the reality of his grandson's death.

The doctor didn't know why, but he guessed it was because the older man was afraid of the reality in his life.

His only family member was soon to pass, and his finances were in insurmountable debt due to it.

It was only fair that he was afraid, but the doctor never expected him to show his true feelings.

He didn't hesitate to answer him, for this felt like the first time he was talking to the elder, and not just a facade of false hope instead.

"Well, that was what I wanted to talk with you about this afternoon, Mr. Smith. Due to a sudden change in oxygen levels reaching the brain, I'm afraid your grandson's life expectancy has reduced significantly over a short period of time."

After a long pause which the doctor respected and didn't talk in the middle of, the older man spoke.

"How long..." He uttered silently, almost under his breath.

"I do not know the exact period, but we are looking somewhere around this evening to midnight."

A short gasp came from the older man as the doctor said his final words before leaving.

"If you have any further questions, please talk to Karen at the helpdesk. Any family members may come, so I encourage you to bring everyone tonight..." The doctor paused for a moment, looking at room number 156.

"I will be taking my leave now... have a blessed day, Mr. Smith." These were his final words before turning around and beginning to walk in the opposite direction from the room.

After a total of 3 seconds, the older man raised his head. A large smile existed on his face as he spoke.

"You as well!"

He said in a voice that sounded like the man he had been for the past 15 years.

The doctor quickly turned to look over his shoulder's in slight confusion at the tone change.

"You have a blessed day as well." The older man politely repeated himself.

On saying this, a smile appeared on the doctor's face as well, as he bowed his head slightly before continuing to leave.

This grandfather had finally accepted the death of his grandchild.

Finally, he wiped the tears off of his face before entering room 156 with the grin still plastered on his face.

On opening the door, he saw his grandson wide awake, sitting up and seemingly talking with a couple of red and blue birds resting atop his fingers.

Seeing another person entering, the birds immediately flew away from the open window.

"Old man! Why are you here again? Go back to your nursing home and stop wasting your life energy trying to make me feel good! You don't have much longer to live anyways."

The young man immediately spoke in a loud voice.

Although Lance sounded rude, this was because he just wanted his grandfather to stop worrying about him and try to live a healthy life.

He knew that the stress he was causing his old man was the cause of many of his health problems.

"What in the world are you talking about? What else do I have to use my life energy on anyways? I come here because it's fun!" The older man joyfully spoke.

"Don't you have any friends at the nursing home? Why do you always have to come and bother me for hours each day." Lance obnoxiously yelled.

Little did he know, the debt had kicked his grandfather out of the nursing home long ago, and he had been homeless for about four years up until now.

"Look Lance, today you need to take me seriously. How about this, if you take me seriously for once, I will fulfill your wish... and never come back." The old man suddenly said, still in a joking manner.

But to Lance, this was something completely out of the blue.

He said he wanted his grandfather to spend less time with him, and he meant what he said, but it would also be quite a pain to live alone as well.

But it didn't matter... right? Now, his grandfather was going to be stress-free.

Although it was like a punch in the gut, Lance realized that this was the best way for things to go.

At the very least, he wouldn't have to be seen in such a pathetic state by anyone he knew ever again.

After pausing for a moment to think about all of this, Lance spoke.

"So you finally took my advice, huh? Good for you, old fart. Now quickly tell me what you have to say and scram."

As Lance said this, his grandfather pulled up a chair next to his hospital bed and calmly sat down.

He looked out the window for a moment, his eyes nearly closed almost as though he was in thought.

After a gust of fresh air flew through the window and hit both him and Lance, he finally faced Lance and opened his mouth.

"Lance, I need you to make a promise to me."

Lance was understandably taken aback by this since it was so random.

"A promise? What do you mean?" He asked innocently, with actual curiosity in his tone.

"For the rest of your days in this life... I want you to remove all restrictions from yourself. To do what you want without anything stopping you!" As Lance's grandfather spoke, his eyes moistened, a wide grin on his face.

"What?" Lance immediately questioned. This promise, which sounded more like a request, was... impossible.

Lance was born a cripple, his legs unable to function since birth. Atop that, he also had an incurable and deadly disease that plagued him after the death of his parents.

To ask for such a promise was... simply inconsiderate.

Lance didn't know what to say, but before he could reply, he suddenly noticed a glimmer slowly fading away from his grandfather's eyes.

Out of nowhere, a lifeless body slumped onto his lap.