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endurance

Summary:

a blur of purple and red.

Notes:

me: im gonna write senseless fluff!
me: this bullshit

anyways enjoy as i try and ultimately fail to be clever and witty in this installment of ruby ruins everything

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It's laughable, how he can only find solace in the moments Tsukasa-kun could never know about.

He's spent too many nights like this. Too many nights being lulled to sleep with his head in his brother's lap, knowing that without that familiar tune he'd spend half the night hunched over the bin at his bedside.

After all, it's enough that he has coughing fits every morning, this one having been no different. The cough medicine that used to be by his bedside when he'd assumed this to be a simple cold has since proved itself useless. It's most likely the aftermath of his dreams, tormenting him even after he finally drifts off, with the same blurs of purple and red; loves me, loves me not, dreams that end before the last petal is plucked? He still has to clean the flowers up before he can even consider leaving for school.

How he can even do this day by day is a miracle.

Horrible, isn't it? How he has to endure his time with Tsukasa-kun more than he can actually enjoy it— so he doesn't worry, so he doesn't find out, so he doesn't have to feel bad about subjecting him to a cruel, cruel fate.

(Enduring— that's all he's been doing.)

He's done everything he has to, now. The flowers are disposed of, he looks presentable enough and Hinata's just closed the door behind him, going on about something implausible. It's as though he has his headphones on, everything around him muffled as he dwells on his current situation.

Class is no different, he guesses, head still in the clouds even during a chess game. He's fighting a losing battle, not unlike their last game and those before it, yet he's always given a warm, welcoming smile when he takes a seat on the other side of the board.

(If he beckons it enough, maybe the tickle in his throat will disappear.)

They don't use chess clocks just yet, with these games being between two friends with a wide gap in experience.

(Two friends.)

Tsukasa, however, seems to be getting a bit impatient, expressed by how he taps his fingers on the table. Right, he's supposed to make a move...

(His hand, though, feels as heavy as his heart does.)

Yuuta's eyes drift back to the pieces in front of him, although his head spins far too much for him to do anything.

(His throat tickles more.)

There's no more tapping.

(And more.)

"Yuuta-kun, is everything alright?"

(And a single hyacinth, purple tinged with red.)

(He understands Tsukasa's made the connection, when his eyes widen ever so slightly.)

Before he can process it, there are about five people calling his name, as he runs far, far away from the mess he's made. Out of sight means out of mind, so they'll hopefully go back to whatever they were doing while he locks himself in a bathroom stall again until it all passes.

(The door slamming behind him almost brings him back to reality.)

(And like a fish out of water, he starts to gasp.)

He's going to die here, he thinks, be suffocated by the plants that constrict him. He's going to die surrounded by scattered purples and reds, a cruel reminder of a love that never could have been.

(It's too late for him to give up on it anyway, dear anemones.)

So why doesn't he cry? He remains on his deathbed, shaking with every cough, weighed down by something he doesn't have the energy to care about anymore, but he doesn't weep. Someone's bound to notice him in this sorry state, but he doesn't cry for help.

(As it turns out, he doesn't need to.)

The hand that rubs circles on his back, while lacking the steadiness of when his brother or Sakuma-senpai would do the same, is warm and welcoming. It feels like he's taking his first breath, the thorns that have pierced here and there receding; so, naturally, he has to wonder who continues to work their magic on him, who begins to hum an unfamiliar yet calming tune while he gains awareness of his surroundings.

(He dares to take a look, and there's yet another blur of purple and red.)

(Perhaps it's his turn to make a connection, as to why Tsukasa looks strangely bashful.)

"There's no need to be sorry, Yuuta-kun."


"Y'know," Hinata says, closing the door behind him, "You've been doing kinda better lately, haven't you?"

Notes:

purple hyacinths mean sorrow or apology, while one meaning for anemones is forsaken love.

i really wanted to include ambrosias bc those r 4 requited love but guess we cant all have nice things!

anyways thank u for reading this mess! if u can actually glean anything from this (esp the foreshadowing attempts) then wow