Archive of Our Own

Akira Kurusu spent three mornings out of six discreetly watching someone. Despite never managing to secure a seat, this "someone" always had his nose buried in a book. Most often than never, the cover said NOTES. Akira usually read if he managed to find a seat on the train.

They went to different schools. The uniform was so simple compared to Shujin’s. Black slacks with a white shirt and a striped tie. Akira scoffed to himself, ducking his head to stop his appraisal. These weren't encounters; he was stalking a stranger. A stranger his gaze had fallen on weeks ago, and now he couldn’t look away.

Akira continued to stare at his feet, and the feet of others, until his stop was announced. He let the crowd guide him along until he could guide his own two feet up to Shibuya's Station Square. From there, he would take the Ginza line to school. A freak accident of an overturning train caused the shift in his usual travel plans. When Akira walked through the gates at the new platform, he almost dropped his school bag in surprise. The object of his longing gazes stood to the side of the waiting passengers, fingers nimbly turning a page in his book.

'Why, why... why?!' Akira shuffled to the opposite side and attempted to blend into the wall. It was a bit difficult, considering the clash of colors, but newcomers waiting on the train provided him with an easy escape. 'Did he get off at the wrong station? Should I ask him if he's lost? No!' Akira sank into a crouch, dragging his case in front of his face to hide his frenzied thoughts. 'He'll know I've been watching him. Why am I so creepy...?'

Lost in his head, Akira didn't hear the soft murmurs of concern or the hurried footsteps that brought his distant crush ever so close to him. A gentle hand to his shoulder made him drop his shield, only to have his bag slip from his fingers completely. His mouth fell open, eyes impossibly wide behind his glasses.

"Are you okay?" a gentle voice asked.

'He's touching me. He's talking to me. Am I even breathing...?' "No," Akira whispered, answering both questions at the same time, before his eyes fluttered shut and he fell into open arms. 

xxx

Akira sighed deeply, rolling over to bury his face in his pillow. It was all a dream. He hadn't made a complete fool of himself. His pillow felt warm, though; did he roll over onto Morgana? Akira's eyes slowly opened—oh, how he longed for this to be a dream. Following the thigh he used as a pillow, he let his gaze travel up, up, up, until he was staring into the smiling face of his train guy. Soft caramel hair framed the angelic face and Akira felt a strong urge to jump off something if it meant he would no longer find himself in embarrassing situations.

"Glad to have you back. Never thought I would be lending out my lap so soon."

Such a gentle voice. But the spoken words caused Akira to spring up far too quickly, and he teetered sideways on the bench.

"No." Again, he was caught and his head returned to its original placement. "On a more serious note: are you well? Do you eat properly?" A cool hand was pressed against his forehead and Akira moaned softly. "You feel a bit warm. Maybe you should take the day off. You go to Shujin, right?"

Akira nodded meekly, his blush deepening as his cheek rubbed against a clothed thigh.

"Is there anyone that can pick you up?"

"No," Akira whispered softly. "I live with a family friend. He runs Leblanc, so he's busy during the day."

The soft gasp from above had Akira opening his eyes again and he wished he hadn't. He knew for a fact his crush had soft, chocolate brown eyes, but now they almost appeared crimson, and were filled with literal sparkles. 'No sparkles,' he berated himself.

"I love that café. I rarely have time to visit, but when I do, I end up staying until closing. It's strange that I've never seen you."

Akira closed his eyes and listened to the other teen wax poetic about his favorite blend. 'Doomed...'

"Ah—oh. Um... sorry, I didn't catch your name. Even though it was an emergency, I didn't feel comfortable going through your personal belongings."

'He's a Prince...!' "Kurusu Akira."

"Kurusu. I'm Akechi Goro. I wish our introduction could have been under better circumstances. The station attendants are also wondering about your condition. We're in their offices at the moment. Ah, ah." Akechi's hands were gentle as they kept Kurusu from bolting again. He sighed and helped guide the brunet into a seated position.

Akira groaned and covered his face with both hands. "I have no idea what happened," he murmured, softer as his palms covered his mouth. "It's getting close summer, but it's not hot enough for me to get overheated. Is it...?"

"Maybe you felt overwhelmed by the crowds. Traffic for the Ginza line has expanded considerably, what with that unfortunate accident."

"Yeah..." Akira lowered his hands, latching onto the somber situation to help calm him down. There were a few casualties and several passengers were still in critical condition. He had no right to be worried about an unrequited crush. Folding his hands in his lap, Akira turned and smiled at Akechi. "Thank you so much for helping me. Anyone else would have just stepped over my body."

Akechi's eyes widened, his lips parting with a soft gasp. "I would hope not. Kurusu, maybe we should exchange numbers so I can check up on you from time to time. If I see you on the platform or the train, I'll definitely keep you company."

Akira's silent tears sent Akechi and the present station attendants into a frenzied panic. 

xxx

Akechi stuck to his side until Akira finally had to get out at Aoyama station. He offered his new associate a protein bar, which currently hung from Akira's lips as he walked dazedly down the street to Shujin Academy. His gaze was focused on his phone, on Akechi Goro's number, while his feet guided him out of muscle memory.

"Dude!"

The shout was followed by a punch to his solar plexus and Akira cried out in pain and distress as his protein bar went flying.

"We thought you were dead! What the hell, man?! Your phone's in your hand—didn't you see my messages?!"

Akira dragged his tearful gaze away from the fallen snack to stare at the glaring blond standing over him. "Ryuji? When did you get here?"

Brown eyes flew wide in rage and it took the Student Council President to hold back the roaring student. Niijima Makoto lifted the kicking and spitting alley cat a few inches from the ground, her arms hooked securely beneath his. She smiled over the blond’s shoulder, down at the bewildered brunet. "Please stop daydreaming, Kurusu. With everything that's happened lately, we were very worried when you missed homeroom. Even though this one," She gave Ryuji a jostle, but that only fueled the fire, "doesn't have the same homeroom as you, he wouldn't stop pacing."

"Oh." Akira picked up the protein bar, looking around for a trash can to dispose of it. Seeing none, he shoved it into his bag and faced the duo with a small smile. "I fainted at the Ginza platform."

Ryuji stilled immediately, hanging limp in Makoto's arms. Even the third year was stunned to silence. "Makoto," Ryuji rasped. "Put me down." Makoto complied. Instead of going to his airheaded friend, Ryuji made for the wall surrounding their school and knocked his head against it. A bruise was already forming on his forehead when he spun to face the duo with a wide grin. "Dude. That's great! Let's get to class, okay?" Ryuji's shaky laughter floated around them.

"You broke him," Makoto sighed. She reached for Akira, curling her fingers around his shoulder, and guided him in the direction of the front gates. Ryuji followed on her left, still airily laughing. 

xxx

Akira's phone chimed not one minute after the lunch bell and he pulled it out to find a new message from Akechi Goro. He opened it and willed his pounding heart to slow to its normal cadence. It was not listening. 

Akechi: Assuming that it's lunch time, I advise you to get something to eat.

Akira smiled sheepishly as he set about replying. I'd tell you the same thing. Walking around with protein bars... He frowned at the phone and decided it was only right to tell him what happened to the snack. I only ate half. My friend punched me and I dropped the rest.

Akechi's reply took a few moments before it appeared in Akira's phone. You seem to lead an interesting life, Kurusu. Get a big lunch to make up for it.

Roger! With a grin, Akira shoved his phone into his pocket. That grin slid off his face after being met with a wall of friends. Ryuji wore a leery grin, Ann looked amused, Makoto had an eyebrow raised. Looking around, Akira found Haru by the door. The third year held up a picnic basket with a wide smile, oblivious to the situation unfolding.

Akira's newest thought was whether he'd be able to take a picture of its contents to show Akechi that he was indeed eating well. 

True to his word, if Akechi spotted Akira on any train line, he wiggled his way to the other teen if possible, or they walked to the Station Square together. Akira had never been happier to have a new friend. Unfortunately, they still hadn't crossed paths at Leblanc, but it was better that way; Akira would probably faint again if the diligent student had to see him in his worst state. 

After a week, Ryuji's teasing finally dwindled down and Ann stopped winking at him from across the classroom. The fact that they were comfortable enough to relent in their attacks meant they temporarily approved with this unknown friend of his.

xxx

It was Akechi himself that first drew Akira's attention to the cough. He brought cold medicine in a bag along with more protein bars and handed it to Akira. The brunet studied the contents, lifting his eyebrows at the other teen. "You might need it," Akechi smiled.

Akira doubted that, but accepted the package. 

Makoto was the next one to notice Akira's faint, yet persistent cough, broaching the subject after day three. "Maybe the weather's changing," Akira murmured, reaching for another vegetable side dish, courtesy of Okumura "green thumb" Haru, to add to his plate. The weather was changing, becoming warmer, but unbeknownst to Akira, something was changing inside him as well. 

Akira was roused from his sleep earlier than intended when Morgana insistently continued to paw at his face. The stray black he'd adopted as his own let out a pitiful mew for attention, sounding almost on the verge of tears. Akira moaned softly, only to have his body racked with a vicious, uncontrollable cough. He rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. He couldn't hear Morgana's terrified howling over his own gags. There was something lodged in his throat!

Akira curled his fingers around his neck, squeezing in an attempt to dislodge the blockage. With one harsh hack, something plopped softly onto the sheets below. Panting, Akira forced his eyes to open. There was no need for light, no need to squint against the darkness to make out the object. Even wet, the petals still looked soft. Akira's arms gave out and he curled into a fetal position, trying to keep his distance from the former obstruction.

Morgana wiggled beneath his arms, pushing its head against Akira's chin. The human sniffled softly above him, breathing slowly evening out. Once Morgana was certain his owner had returned to sleep, he climbed out of the loose embrace and settled next to the dark crown.

xxx

When Sakura Sojiro climbed the stairs to the attic to find his missing charge, he found a bright lovely deep pink carnation at the head of the bed, its petals lined with white, and one Akira curled on the floor. Morgana watched over the sleeping figure. Sojiro adjusted his glasses with a soft sigh and headed back downstairs to give them their privacy.

Okumura Haru let out a shriek and tackled Akira. The large bottle the brunet had raised to his lips went flying, along with their bodies, and everything spilled across the yard. The container fell face down, so anyone passing had no idea what it was, but Haru knew every product related to gardening. Akira had been trying to chug a bottle of weed killer, which could only mean one thing. She waited until he pushed himself up before crawling into his lap and wrapping her arms tightly around him. "I love you," the third year whispered.

"...thank you, but I know who it is." Akira placed a hand lightly atop her curls, smiling up at the blue sky. Unbidden, Akechi's smiling face flashed through his mind and Haru was jostled when her seat began coughing. She ushered him to his feet and around the side of the building. Akira sank to his knees, fingers digging into the dirt as he tried to force out another flower. They never came in petals, just whole blossoms, which made it all the more painful. If that was a sign, he could do without it.

Akira barely registered Haru's gentle touch, her hand rubbing up and down his back. With a soft 'plop', the flower landed on the ground. Haru gasped softly and Akira could only stare, unsure of what to make of his latest regurgitation. He reached for the flowers with trembling hands and attempted to separate the conjoined buds, but to no avail. White and red blossoms had melded together somewhere inside him; two completely different flowers. Akira felt something wet land on his neck and turned slowly, gaze going skyward.

Haru had both hands clamped over her mouth to quiet her sobs. 

xxx

Akira stumbled into Takemi's back-alley clinic, bouncing off the wall and almost toppling the waiting room magazine rack. "What—guinea pig!"

Akira slapped the flower abomination onto the counter top and Takemi Tae's widened. "Back room," she whispered urgently, already standing from her chair. "Strip down and prepare for an X-ray." Takemi picked up the flower left behind after Akira disappeared into the backroom and made sure the front door was locked before following.

Akira had fallen into a light sleep as he waited for his X-ray to be developed. A tap to his shoulder roused him and he coughed to relieve the tickle in his throat. Takemi set the X-ray up in the viewing box and turned on the light. Akira's breath caught in his throat. The inside of his chest looked like a bramble bush. The outlines of his organs could barely be seen around the buds that appeared to be originating from his heart.

"I count at least four. Maybe five," the physician sighed, tapping her clipboard against her thigh. "What you brought in was an anemone and a carnation. I can understand the carnation, but... the anemone I don't understand."

"What does it mean?" Akira asked softly.

"Sincerity."

Akira smiled at his hands, remembering the cough medicine sitting on the desk in his room, along with the protein bars. He usually grabbed one on the way out. "That's him."

"Interesting," Takemi hummed. "Your growth is unique. Your current thoughts about him seem to generate new buds. Kurusu. I suggest you undergo surgery."

"No!" Akira pounded his hands atop the bed, only to use them to support his shaking body as another wave of coughing washed over him. Takemi could do nothing but wait until the fit passed. Two vibrant pink blossoms decorated the sheets beneath the teen, but his throat still felt obstructed. Akira thumped a hand against his chest, ignoring the pain it caused after jostling his inner garden, and ended his fit with white petals fluttering down around the new flower. Anemone. They looked like little teardrops.

"Your azaleas will have no meaning if you die trying to be patient."

"...I can't lose my thoughts of him. I’ll wait."

"Akira." The dark head rose and Akira stared at the young woman through tear-clotted lashes. Takemi looked worried, which, in turn, worried him. "Akira, at this rate, no one will have to bring flowers to your funeral."

Akira's arms finally gave out and he collapsed onto the bed with a weak laugh. He let his eyes flutter shut and Akechi's grinning face haunted his thoughts. "That's fine."

xxx

When Akira woke the following morning, he was met with a new flower. It was white, and gorgeous. One side of the petals remained looped and smooth while the other side appeared shredded, almost sharp. Maybe that was why his throat felt so raw. He took a picture of it and searched online for its meaning.

Sagiso. My thoughts will follow you into your dreams. Akira fell back onto the bed, the fringed orchid held gently in his hands, and laughed until he cried. 

There was a plus side to Akira’s Hanahaki disease. His garden bloomed when his thoughts consisted of only Akechi Goro. Even when the subject of his daydreams stood before him, there was no hint of a tickle in his throat.

This fact was proven when Akira entered the train at Yongen station and literally walked into the other student. His face was probably the same color as his azaleas or carnations, and the fluttering in his stomach made him sick. ‘I’m going to die today in an explosion of flowers.’ The thought made him laugh, and thus, made Akechi chuckle, “Fancy meeting you here.”

The train jolted harshly into movement and Akira stumbled. His hand shot up for a loop. At the same time, Akechi’s arm went around his waist to steady him. Akira froze, waiting for the inevitable vomit of flowers, but it never came.

Akechi’s attention shifted from passenger to passenger, unaware of the inner turmoil he caused the other teen as he assessed the situation. There was a tension in the car now. Everyone still vividly remembered the accident and they all hoped to not be victims of a repeat incident. Akechi finally gave Akira his attention, eyes widening as the brunet practically drooped from the rung he held. “Kurusu? Are you okay?”

“Peachy,” Akira laughed weakly. “I might need one of those protein bars, though.”

Akechi’s wide eyes relaxed into high arcs as he laughed, “I’m glad you actually enjoy those.”

Akira lifted his head from its lolling state to smile at the other. “I do eat properly, as I’ve shown you, but I sneak pieces of the bars between classes. I think my forehead might develop a dent from all the chalk thrown at it, though.”

“That means… you’re terrible at hiding!” With his arm already secured around Akira, Akechi leaned against the slender frame for support as he laughed.

Akira clutched the overhead rung so tightly, he was surprised it didn’t break off in his hand. With his head against his chest, Akechi would either hear the thumping of his heart, or the rustling of his secret garden as it grew and grew. Neither of his fears came to pass. Akechi was still laughing when he lifted his head.

xxx

That amazing laugh followed Akira to school and caused his classroom to find out the secret he’d been hiding.

Daydreaming never ended well. Kurusu Akira was proof of this. After just a month of random meetings and texts, Akechi—no, Goro asked if they could address each other by their given names. Akira giggled to himself as he remembered Goro testing out his name.

“Akira. It’s similar to my Akechi.” Another laugh.

Akira coughed and his eyes widened. He stood from his seat, the chair clattering noisily against the desk behind his, and clawed at his throat. ‘I can’t… can’t breathe!’ Hot tears burned their way down his cheeks as the thought came, unbidden: today was the day he died for his unrequited love.

Ann ran from her side of the classroom to his, already unzipping her jacket. She practically tore it off after reaching Akira and pulled it on around the brunet. Hiding his face in the hood, she guided him out of the classroom. “Ryuji!” Her scream echoed down the hallway and another door slammed open, revealing the wild blond. Ryuji was at their side in seconds, sinking into a crouch so Ann could help Akira climb on. He could feel the brunet convulsing against his back and took the stairs two at a time to reach the roof.

Akira waited until they stepped moving before launching himself off and onto the hard floor. He moved the jacket from his face and Ann hid hers in Ryuji’s shoulder to muffle her sobs. Ryuji stood, frozen in fear, as blood dripped from Akira’s mouth, a rainbow of petals pushing their way past his lips.

Akira couldn’t scream around the obstruction and he tugged at the flowers to spur them along. He couldn’t die—not today, not ever! Akira felt his diaphragm expand and idly wondered what new flower had bloomed.

After what felt like hours, Akira could finally breathe. It was painful to swallow, however, and he panted through both his nose and mouth, saliva and blood caking his lips.

The door to the roof opened and Makoto froze at the threshold. Haru pushed past and hurried to Akira’s side. She counted four different flowers in varying amounts. White petals were tainted red with blood. “Please… Please, get the surgery,” she sobbed, clinging to the second year’s arm.

Akira’s response came out in a soft wheeze. “…no.”

-

The Student Council President made her rounds to second year and third year classrooms, collecting the abandoned belongings. No one wanted to leave Akira alone, though, and the quintet ended up leaving school together. Haru’s escort parked on an accommodating street in Yongen. Luckily for Akira, they had to pass Takemi’s clinic before reaching Leblanc. He’d taken a shaky picture of his newest bloom and sent it to the ostracized doctor on the ride over. Tae called him an idiot and asked him to stop by.

“This one was all you,” Takemi sighed after Akira walked into the clinic. A hydrangea, the entire flowerhead, had almost done him in. “Pride,” she hissed, taking his hand in hers. Akira stared down at the small bottle he now held before turning a quizzical gaze to the young woman. “I made it for you. It should cause the flowers to break up, making them easier to expunge. It’s quite potent, so the effects will last a month.”

Akira closed his hand around his newest charm, ever so grateful to the physician.

-

When a sullen Ryuji walked into Leblanc first, Sojiro feared the worst. But then Ann stepped inside behind him, followed by Akira, and he relaxed, just slightly so. The boy looked like the walking dead. Ironically, he was, in a sense. Sojiro uncrossed his arms, stepping up to the counter. “I’ll make some chamomile tea. Hopefully it helps.”

Akira still found the energy to grin. “Thank you, Sojiro.”

Sojiro delivered the entire pot to the attic, along with a tray full of mugs. He muttered beneath his breath when everyone showered him with thanks, heading back downstairs. Haru pointed out the little squares of honey also stacked on the tray and Akira hurriedly popped one into his mouth. The moan that escaped his lips had Ryuji kicking him in the ankle. He shared the bed with Akira.

“Ish sho gud,” Akira spoke around the candy before lodging it against his cheek with his tongue. “And I can finally talk again. My throat is less on fire than it was before.”

“I liked you better when you didn’t make any noise,” Ryuji scoffed. The sight and sounds of Akira retching up blood and flowers would haunt him if he thought too hard on it. So he tried not to, but it was difficult knowing that your best friend would eventually die. “Did you tell him?”

“No,” Akira laughed, accepting the mug of hot chamomile tea. “If he rejects me, I might die on the spot. As colorful as it may be, I’d rather make it to my last year of school.”

“How can you be—”

“Because I’d rather hold onto this love than forget him. No idea why the universe decided to bless me with this disease, though!” Akira was careful with the hot liquid as he continued to laugh. He could do nothing else but keep smiling. Everyone suggested he get the surgery to remove his emotions, but there were five to six different flowers tangled inside him. What if surgery couldn’t save him? With a hum, he banished his thoughts and took a sip of his tea, making sure the hot liquid washed over the cube of honey nestled on his tongue.

Eventually, the sun slipped out of the sky, disappearing behind buildings until the moon took its place. Ryuji reluctantly slid from the bed, which jumpstarted everyone else into moving. He was gentle with his pat to Akira’s shoulder, which was very rare.

Akira didn’t want to be pitied nor babied, but he’d terrified his friends enough for the day, so he would deal with their light hugs and kisses. Once they were all gone, he collected the mugs and pot back onto the tray, saving the remaining honey squares for himself. He placed them onto a napkin and set them on his desk next his few remaining protein bars. Morgana jumped onto the desk, curious about the new smell. “Why were you hiding?” Akira scoffed. “Stop being scared of Ryuji and Ann. Haru loves you.” The cat preened under the gentle hand before returning its attention to the honey. Akira placed one in front of the cat before picking up the tray to take it back downstairs.

The shop was still open, so he tried to be as discreet as possible, but that didn’t stop a certain someone from noticing his sudden appearance. Akechi Goro’s eyes widened. He set down the small cup he held and uncrossed his legs so he could climb from the bar’s high chair. The mugs on the tray Akira held softly rattled as his body began trembling without his consent. The only good thing about this meeting was that he was still in his school uniform, sans the blazer.

Sojiro walked around the counter to collect his wares, taking them back to the kitchen where they belonged, leaving the frozen boy to his own impending doom.

Goro taking his hands startled Akira back to the present and he mirrored the grin on the other teen’s face. “I finally get to meet you. I knew something good would come of this horrible day.”

“I guess today was a horrible day all around then,” Akira chuckled. It sounded slightly less nervous than how he truly felt.

Goro’s smile was playful, his head cocked in an inviting manner. “I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours.”

‘Why the hell not…’ Akira nodded and allowed himself to be guided to the corner booth. He sank into the cushioned bench, folding his hand between his thighs.

Goro was at the counter, talking softly with Sojiro, who nodded every few words. Once that conversation was finished, he collected his mug and headed to the booth, gracefully sliding in without a ripple in his coffee.

Akira couldn’t help but wonder what new flower would bloom tonight.

The boys talked the night away, laughing and commiserating over the stories they never got to share while on the train in the morning. Sojiro wanted to go home, but he didn’t have the heart to kick out one of his regulars, especially when that regular was the cause of his charges Hanahaki disease. Just like everything else that made up the boy left in his care, Akira handled the life-threatening illness differently from everyone else. Everyone else that spoke about their flowers said the best thing was to stay away from their unrequited love.

Sojiro watched the teens laugh over empty cups and allowed a small smile to grace his lips. ‘Doesn’t seem to be the case here.’ Akira looked ten times better than he had after walking into Leblanc earlier.

-

It was Goro that noticed the time, only when the television behind him began its nightly news session. He made no rush to leave the booth, but still sighed that it was time for him to go.

“We’ll always have tomorrow,” Akira told him.

Goro paused at the edge of the seat, studying the dark-haired teen across from him. Akira was without his glasses, but that just made it easier for Goro to appreciate the wonder that had fallen into his life. The cashiers at the convenient store voiced their worry because of the amount of protein bars he bought, but he always reassured them he ate proper meals. Never before did he ever think he would be buying gifts (maybe he should upgrade from protein bars) for a genuine friend. Goro smiled, hoping his gratitude shone through the gesture. If the way Akira’s face lit up was anything to go by, it was a job well done. “We will have tomorrow,” he mused aloud, finally standing from the booth.

xxx

When Akira woke the following morning, two fringed orchids stared back at him after he opened his eyes.

The small group sat around the school roof, everyone staring at the colorful results of Akira’s illness. After taking Takemi’s medicine, his days and nights were so much better. He was no closer to finding love, however, and the flowers reminded him of that. They shrank in size but grew in numbers. The anemones and azaleas were the more commonly produced flower. The carnations usually appeared after he talked with Goro, so those were plentiful as well. The fringed orchids only appeared while he slept; a fact Akira found ironic.

Ryuji picked up the bag and shook it, the flowers rustling within. “You should open your own shop.”

“No.” Akira swatted his shoulder, taking the bag back to open it and peer inside. “I don’t think anyone will want my disgusting flowers.

“They’re pretty.” Haru reached in and pulled out a pink azalea.

Ann made a face. “How can you touch that?” Akira glared at her and she stuck her tongue out at him in response.

Haru chuckled, picking out a carnation so both flowers sat in the palm of her hand. “I’ve handled worse than this. Other than the incident we shall never speak of, even though we’re sitting where it happened… Akira’s flowers have never appeared disgusting. The petals are always soft to touch, even after he chokes them up.”

Akira makes a face, squeezing the neck of the bag close. “I’m so glad we can all talk about my debilitating disease now. Since we’re on the subject—Goro asked me out on a date.” He was expecting the silence that followed, and flashed everyone a wide grin. “We’re going to the art museum this Sunday. An up-and-coming artist is making his debut premiere and Goro’s interested.”

Haru lowered her hand into her lap. The other covered it, protecting the flowers from the cool wind that whipped around them. “Akira. That really does sound like a date. Are you sure… you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, man.” Ryuji leaned backwards, his arms keeping him propped up. He shifted just enough to stare at the brunet on his right. “These things might go out of control and embarrass you in front of him.”

“I won’t be embarrassed.” Akira loosened his hold on the bag, opening it to stare inside. What was essentially “vomit” stared back at him; innocent, yet deadly. He was doubly glad none of his flowers had thorns. “I have a garden because of him.”

Haru was the only one giggling at the gentle declaration. Makoto smiled, quiet and strong like she always was, while the two blondes made varying faces of disgust. Akira had an extensive and odd range of friends, but he wouldn't change them for the world.

Akira clapped his hands together, smiling over his fingers. “I have a plan, but I’m going to need everyone’s help. If you’re all willing, that is.” A chorus of agreements came back that had him smiling. “To keep me from dying, I realize I’ll need to keep my mind occupied. When I talk with him, I don’t have any issues. It’s when my thoughts decide to create entire universes where only we exist… does this happen.” He dropped his hands, spreading them wide to indicate at the bag full of flowers. Right now, he was trying his hardest to think only of his circle of friends.

Ryuji pushed himself up onto his feet. With a wide grin, he held out his hand for a surprised Akira to take. “Let’s get started, then!”

xxx

Ryuji dragged him to the gym after school. Literally. Akira put up little fuss as he was pushed and pulled along through familiar stations and down familiar streets. "You have to be strong enough to sweep him off his feet!" the blond laughed once they arrived, shoving Akira through the front doors.

Everything had been going well until Akira's thoughts betrayed him during his barbell bench presses. He couldn't help but imagine what Goro's reaction would be if he really did sweep him off his feet. One thought led to another and Akira felt the telltale pressure in his chest. Ryuji obviously saw the distress on his face since the bar was ripped from his hands and placed back onto the rack. Akira almost tripped in his haste to the bathroom.

Akira stared at the colorful petals floating in the toilet. Carnations and anemones. He couldn't help but smile at them, even after he flushed the toilet and they swirled down the drain.

Ryuji was waiting for him with a scowl and a swift kick to his behind. "How dare you think of someone else while you're with me!" His boisterous voice, loud as always, drew attention, and hushed laughter swirled around them. Akira apologized with deep bows, but was still put through a training regimen. He was so glad it was Monday. A medicinal soak in the baths near the café was something he was in desperate need of.

-

Akira never made the mistake of thinking about Akechi Goro after that. Tuesday, Makoto enlisted his help with hunting down Shujin students in the Red-Light District. Any that they found were chased out until it became obvious that they themselves needed to leave. They were laughing on the train ride back to Shibuya.

-

Wednesday was Ann’s day. She never gave Akira the chance to think about anything other than her. They went to Inokashira Park, where she waxed poetic about her life, only for work to call and ask her to come in for a photo shoot. Of course, Akira was dragged along. There, he witnessed his first verbal cat fight, but it had been obvious to him that this Mika was, and would continue to be, a problem. He warned Ann, but she brushed it off and bought them crepes. That brought an end to their day.

Akira didn’t think he'd ever spent that much money traveling before, but Ann promised to pay him back.

-

Ryuji stole Akira away again on Thursday. Akira was positive Ryuji did it on purpose, making sure he worked him to the bone. Monday and Thursday were the only days a long soak would save his life.

-

Akira was almost worried that Haru's suggestion to spend time in the garden would have an adverse effect, but far from it. They got their hands dirty, then sat back with cups of homemade coffee and told tales from their youth. After running out of those, they spoke of their dreams for the future.

Haru had a beautiful dream and Akira hoped it came true.

-

Akira spent Saturday at the café with Sojiro and Takemi. Seeing the young doctor was a surprise, but one Akira greatly welcomed. They took the booth directly across from the counter, Takemi keeping a watchful eye on the teen as he worked his way through pages of various puzzles.

When Akira climbed into bed that night, it was with a vague thought that something important was happening tomorrow, Sunday. Morgana stole his attention, however, climbing onto his chest to knead out the perfect spot before settling down to sleep for the night. With smile, Akira decided he should do the same.

If Akira didn't throw up flowers, he figured he would just vomit like a normal person. He wondered if it were possible his garden created butterflies, and almost expected one to flutter out with a hiccup.

Today was his non-date with Goro. He'd left his phone behind to enjoy a quiet breakfast with Sojiro, and came back to find several new messages. After taking a seat on the bed, Morgana pawed at the device in his hand, hooking his arm with a leg as though telling Akira "I want to read, too".

Akira smiled and allowed the black cat to climb into his lap as he opened his thread with Makoto.

Mako-chan: Hey. Hope you're not nervous for your first date.
Mako-chan: Oh. 
Mako-chan: Now I hope I didn't make you nervous by saying that.

"You did," Akira muttered, almost able to feel the flowers in his chest start to bloom.

Mako-chan: Ryuji wanted to make a group chat, but I decided to ask you first so you didn't wake up to a slew of messages.

That was her last text, roughly thirty minutes ago. A reply was in order. It's fine. I see you guys almost every day, but what's every minute of every day? Right?

Akira moved onto the next text, which was from the boy that caused him something akin to joyous pain.

Goro: Good morning! Just wanted to make sure we were still on for today.
Goro: I’m bringing several protein bars with me, haha!

Morgana mewled stressfully when his owner hugged him close. “Morgana… He’s going to be the death of me. Literally!” Akira buried his face in the midnight fur, groaning against the small, pliant body. Morgana didn’t like it one bit.

xxx

Goro’s eyes widened when Akira joined him outside Ueno’s art museum. The dark-haired teen grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. His face was covered his faint scratches. Goro assumed the worst was under the bandage that covered Akira’s nose. “I, um… My first aid kit is at home.”

Akira laughed softly, dropping his hand to tuck both into the pockets of his jeans. “My cat decided he didn’t want my love.”

“Sounds like a silly cat to me,” Goro teased.

Akira crushed the seed of hope that bloomed, not wanting it to be the cause of anything else blooming within him. Instead, he frowned and took control of the conversation. “My cat is a genius, I’ll have you know.”

Goro’s laugh was light, but used his entire body. “So he takes after his owner.”

‘Stop.’ Akira shifted his stance so he now stared at the large building. It was also an excuse to hide the heat climbing into his face. “So, I’m silly and smart?” ‘Stop baiting him, you idiot!’

“You are.” Goro came up beside him, a hand to the small of Akira’s back to guide him into moving forward. “It’s an interesting combination. I never know what to expect where you’re concerned, but it always turns out to be a pleasant surprise.”

‘The universe hates me!’ Akira remained silent, only humming in agreement to put a stop to their conversation. If he responded, they would just trade quips back and forth until Akira cracked and confessed his undying love for a guy he’d known just over three months.

Once they walked through the large doors, both teens lost themselves to the otherworldly atmosphere of the museum.

xxx

Goro would deny it for the next twenty years, tops, that he lost Akira. Having outgrown the elementary school habit of holding holds, Akira somehow managed to wander off on his own, leaving Goro staring at a piece that made him tilt his head in wonder. He opened his mouth to make a comment to his companion, becoming aware of the "missing persons" situation when only silence returned. Goro was in no rush to find the other teen, but he also didn't want him to be in any sort of danger, what with the freak accidents happening in their country.

Admiring the art became second priority the more minutes passed without Akira at his side. Goro headed back down to the ground floor and began looking over the heads shorter than himself in search for a dark curly mop. Relief flooded through him when he did indeed spot his companion. Akira was talking to Kitagawa Yusuke, the artist they'd come to observe, as casually as if they were friends. Despite Kitagawa's neutral expression, Goro could tell the artist hung onto Akira's every word with rapt attention.

With each slow step that took him closer to the pair, a voice within Goro grew louder, warning him that he should keep them separated. Never before had he met Kitagawa, so he had no reason to believe that he was dangerous. But there was no proof saying he wasn't, either.

-

Makoto told Akira one time that he was like a magnet, attracting those that could see his true persona within. Akira never thought one of those people would be the artist Kitagawa Yusuke. After being swept away from Goro by the crowd, he'd found himself face to face with a portrait that he just couldn't look away from.

A soft tenor spoke up beside after several minutes of staring, "I plan to pull this piece after today. I was told something was missing. Standing here with you, I think I finally understand what everyone else saw."

Akira glanced over his shoulder, looking up just so, and found the pensive stare of the artist they'd come to see unveil his new piece. Kitagawa's gaze left his painting and met Akira's. Two sets of gray eyes widened; Akira's with shock, Kitagawa's with inspiration. That was how Akira ended up sharing stories with the quiet teen. Yusuke mentioned he was lacking in the "friend" department and Akira blurted out he would gladly be his friend. When he thought about it, Akira realized it sounded as if he wanted to be Yusuke's friend for personal gain, and voiced this thought as well.

Yusuke tilted his head and Akira felt the weight of an artist's stare appraising him. Yusuke's smile was small, but warm and reassuring. "You do not seem like that type of person. Even though I've only known you for thirty minutes, I can honestly say that I would be glad to be your friend."

Akira grinned, his cheeks flushed pink as he practically radiated happiness. "I might turn out to be your muse," he laughed jokingly.

Yusuke's smile widened. "I am certain that you will."

Goro remained rooted in place as he watched Kitagawa and Akira exchange contact information. It was a normal, everyday occurrence, but he felt unease settle in the pit of his stomach. He waved it off as being hungry and continued forward to collect his friend so they could share the snacks he'd brought along. 

There was bustling movement all around them, but something drew Akira's attention away from Yusuke. The artist watched different emotions wash over Akira's face. The happiness Akira had shown him gave way to a moment of confusion. He obviously found the answer he needed to clear up his confusion, if the small smile was anything to go by. That small smile grew into something that had Yusuke's own emotions fluttering. The recipient of such a loving gaze was a very lucky person.

Akira gave up on trying to quell the garden that fluttered within him. Tonight would be a painful night, but it would have been worth it.

Akechi nodded politely at Yusuke before Akira received his full attention. "Do I have to handcuff you to my side?" he laughed. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

‘Who the hell leads with that?!’ "Been here," Akira whimpered. He cleared his throat in hopes of returning his voice to its original timbre, only to feel a familiar tickle climbing up his esophagus. 'No. No, no, no! He's right in front of me!'

Yusuke made his presence known to both with a gentle hand to Akira's shoulder. He leaned down so they were face to face. "You're not well."

Akira dare not open his mouth lest he desired to make a fool of himself. Akechi stepped in, both hands landing on Akira's shoulders, the left pushing Yusuke's off none too subtly. "We can leave if you like," he suggested, his voice soft and filled with concern, and received a vehement nod in return. Akechi graced Kitagawa with a brief smile. "It was a lovely piece and I hope to be here for more, but..."

Yusuke nodded his head in understanding and murmured a soft "thank you". It was now time to mingle.

Akira drew Goro's attention from watching the tall artist walk away with a hoarse whisper, "Bathroom." And away Akira was whisked.

Akira fell into the nearest stall, not bothering to close the door, and just let the proof of his forbidden love flow forth. Hanahaki. Goro's eyes narrowed as he listened to the retching sounds, his brain working overtime to connect the pieces.

Goro was never supposed to see. Akira always imagined he would keep his flowers well into his prime, but they seemed to have no problem reminding him that they were, in fact, a deadly ailment. No sooner had he flushed a second time, he started coughing out more petals. His last and final harsh hack brought up a new blossom, but Akira had no desire to find out what it meant; it was just another reminder that Akechi would never return his love. He slammed his hand down on the lever, flushing the toilet once more. Akira wiped a hand over the back of his mouth, scowling when a carnation petal fluttered to the floor.

Goro looked everywhere but at Akira when the brunet left the stall. Hanahaki wasn't something to put on display, so he would give Akira the semblance of privacy that he desired. He listened to the sounds of running and splashing water, finding his feet far more interesting to pass the time until the sounds stopped.

Akira dried himself off as best as he could and returned to Goro's side with a wide smile.

Akechi could tell it was strained, almost fraying, but indulged him with one of his own. "Don't hate me or anything, but I was actually coming to find you so we could get something to eat."

Akira blinked, genuine confusion written across his face. "Why would I hate you because of that?”

“Because…” Akechi made a subtle glance to the empty stall with the lone flower petal.

Akira waved him off. “If anything, I’m hungrier because of what just happened. Food is always good," he finished with a laugh.

"Thus, begins the second leg of our adventure." With a wink, Akechi guided them out of the bathroom.

xxx

Akira stared up at the dark ceiling of his attic bedroom. He could hear Morgana pattering around, but the sounds did nothing to distract his thoughts. The black cat jumped into bed when the coughing started. He placed a white paw to Akira’s shoulder, stepping back only after the obstruction came loose. Akira stared blankly at the new flower and wondered if it was the same one he flushed at the museum.

“Why are you all pink…?” the brunet mumbled. The white petals curled away from the fuchsia resembling a waterfall. Akira reached for it, but Morgana beat him to it, batting the limp flower around the bed. Akira smiled, snatching up the cat before he got too far. Today had been amazing, even after his flowers “went out of control” (note: never tell Ryuji he was right). Lunch in Ginza, coffee in Leblanc—Akira couldn’t have asked for anything more.

Morgana yawned from his new perch on Akira’s chest, leveling the teen with a bored expression.

Akira pressed a finger to the tip of Morgana’s nose and a black ear flicked in irritation. “I think… it’s time to give up.”

Akira’s name flashed across Goro’s cellphone as a call came through, a rare occurrence since they texted or simply talked in person on the rail lines. Even rarer now since he hadn’t heard or seen anything from the other teen in over a week. He answered, ready to hear what was on his friend’s mind.

"Fuckin' asshole!" an unfamiliar voice growled at him through the phone. "Akira's dying, because of you!"

Akechi could find no rebuttal for the accusation made, not that he would have been able to interject it.

"He's been suffering from that shitty disease for over three months!"

"That's not possible," Goro murmured. "We only just met Kitagawa Yusuke two weeks ago."

The sound that came through the speaker of his phone was nothing but animalistic rage. "Why the hell does he love an idiot like you?! Huh?!"

Akechi could make out placating voices in the background, but his verbal attacker ignored them to continue.

"We're actually surprised he survived this long. He refused to get surgery because he wants to keep the happy memories...My ass! What's so happy about throwing up flowers?! I don't care how pretty they are, Haru!"

Goro's brain was filled with white noise, blocking out this stranger's rantings, but a single thought broke through: Akira would forget about me. That thought alone sent a coldness twisting deep into his very core. Goro finally recognized the emotion he'd struggled with for the past two weeks. Loneliness.

A gentle voice cut through his worrying thoughts, forcing Akechi to remember the phone conversation he was supposed to be having.

"Akira... is in the hospital," a soft, feminine voice spoke. "His legal guardian and physician made a unanimous decision that Akira have his flowers removed. I'm telling you, in case you wish to see him one last time. We're..."

She trailed off, but another girl's voice took her place to finish the conversation, "We were tasked with keeping him away from you. Sojiro doesn't want this to happen again."

No!

xxx

Akechi Goro never thought he'd find himself running through a hospital. He ignored the shouts that told him to stop and turned a corner at dangerous speeds, trying to recall the room information he'd been given. 'Don't... Akira, please don't. I don't want you to forget me!'

Goro's eyes widened and he ended up on the floor after trying to avoid an empty wheelchair that suddenly appeared in his path, pushed by an equally shocked orderly. He remained seated on the cold tile and attempted to take a few calming breaths. It wasn't working, and the longer he remained here, the less time he had to tell Akira how he truly felt.

Akechi pushed himself to his feet, smoothed out the few wrinkles in his school uniform, and walked to the nearest elevator.

After finding Kurusu Akira's room, Goro hesitated outside the closed door. Was he too late? If he walked in, would a blank stare greet him? Was Akira even in the room? Exhaling deeply, Goro hooked his fingers into the grooved handle and slid the door open as quietly as possible.

Akira was in bed, hooked up to a drip, looking far too frail for Goro's liking. The oxygen mask he wore wasn't littered with petals and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. If he recalled the phone conversation that drove him to the hospital in the first place, Sakamoto Ryuji had done nothing but scream at him that the flowers wouldn't stop coming. That was over two hours ago, and yet there was not a single petal to be found.

Akechi scrubbed at his face, erasing the traces of warm tears, and made his way to the side of the bed that kept Akira's arm above the covers for the sake of the needle. To touch him again without being pushed away—that was his last wish. Goro trailed a finger across the open palm, smiling when Akira's fingers twitched in response to the teasing touch. Physical contact with Akira was something he did on impulse; it always felt right.

"I'm sorry," Goro murmured. "For not understanding anything. I kept giving you cold medicine when you needed my love. I guess I didn't realize I needed yours as well." He slotted their fingers together, smiling at how perfect it felt. "I was just so glad to have found a friend on my own, not somebody that wanted to just talk to the orphan and make him feel welcome.

“That day at the museum was the best day of my life, but then it ended up being my worst. When I saw your flowers, I assumed they were because of Kitagawa. When you stopped talking to me, it told me my assumption was indeed a fact. I… was wrong. I didn’t want to stand in the way of you pursuing your love and getting better, but I only made things worse. Now that I think back on it,” Goro chuckled, unconsciously tightening his hold on Akira’s hand. “I think I was a little jealous.”

Akechi bent at the waist, carefully lifting his hand to press Akira’s cool knuckles against his lips. “Despite what you think about me, I'm far from perfect. A fact that's been proven since you're lying in a hospital bed..." Goro made to pull his hand away, but Akira's fingers squeezed lightly. His eyes moved from the hand to the masked face, where glossy gray eyes stared back at him, and he slowly rose to his feet. "Aki... Kurusu?"

Akira shook his head, pointing to his chest.

Goro translated it as 'I don't know you'. He plastered on a generic smile and easily slipped his hand free of the lax grip. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you with my ramblings." Goro took a step back, ready to bolt, only to stop and stare at the flower nestled in a cloth atop the bedside table. It was the only flower present in the room. Five sky-blue petals that looked soft to the touch (probably were), with a golden center.

At the rustle of cloth, Goro tore his gaze from the flower to see Akira struggling to sit up. He closed the short distance to the bed, hands hovering, unsure of where to touch or hold the other teen. Akira pointed to the oxygen mask, fogged courtesy of his over-exerted breathing. Goro tried to be as gentle as possible removing it, setting it back down onto the bed. Akira's smile was too pure for his eyes; blinding even with the teen in such a weakened state.

"Flower free," the brunet whispered. "I spat that up on the operating table—" A weak nod at the bedside table. "—but their probing camera showed nothing else wrapped around my insides."

"Why are you so dramatic?" Goro chuckled, tucking his hair behind his ear to keep it from obstructing his view of an angel.

Akira shrugged, grin widening. "I'm all drugged up still, so I probably won't remember much, but will you stay?"

"Until visiting hours." Akira pouted and Goro wanted nothing more than to kiss it away. Akira's lips would probably be dry and chapped, considering he'd been bedridden for hours, but it wouldn't matter to him. "I guess I'll save my love declaration until then."

A little bit of life returned to Akira's eyes, the gray irises almost sparkling. "Tell me. Please."

Goro's hand found Akira's, freeing it from the bed sheets so he could link their fingers together. His other hand slid up Akira’s neck—the brunet released a shuddering gasp—and cupped the back of the dark head, guiding him forward. Once he was sure he had the brunet’s undivided attention, Goro whispered, "I love you, Kurusu Akira."  

xxx

Akira cried himself to sleep after Goro’s confession, haunted by the distant thought that he would wake up embarrassed for wailing. Instead, he woke and was flooded with relief that he hadn’t been dreaming. Goro sat in a single chair he’d pulled right up to the bed. The Forget-me-not was cradled gently in his hands, and being stared at so lovingly, Akira wished he had more to throw up.

Akira shifted into a more comfortable position, drawing the attention of his visitor. Goro’s face lit up. He lifted the handkerchief that housed the pale blue flower, hiding his smile behind it. “Wasurenagusa. Forget-me-not. I looked it up. It means… true love.”

Akira vowed to keep the flower forever. He would preserve it in amber or a crystal, and turn it into something sappy and sentimental. A pendant for a necklace, or maybe an unsightly ring. He knew one thing, though. He would probably have to fight Goro to get the flower back.