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The inferni had gotten away. With Leilah dead, they were scrambling for new leadership, panicked, unpredictable. Kandomere and Montehugh had cornered this one in an abandoned building. Well, not completely abandoned. The homeless kids that had been squatting there had a met a rather gruesome end, and the sight set the elven agent's teeth on edge.
“Traitor!” the inferni had shouted at him, in their own tongue. “You debase yourself for these humans, you serve them when they should be licking our boots! The Dark Lord will flay you and the filthy unfaithful masses like you alive when he returns!”
Kandomere had taken cover while the inferni flung dangerous magic at them, waiting for a break in the assault to try and get a clear shot. He needed to take this one alive, he needed intel on what their movements were now. There was a lull while the livid elf continued to hurl insults at him. He used it to his advantage, slowly maneuvering around to get a good sight and set up a non-lethal but incapacitating shot.
“You love these humans so much, are you so fallen that you fuck them too? They're animals.”
“Keep talking, cabron...” Kandomere muttered to himself as he gets the elf in his sights.
Suddenly the inferni turned his head, locking his gaze on Kandomere in the shadows. Kandomere couldn't hear what the inferni said over the roar of magic, but it was obviously a malevolent spell of some kind. A shockwave of red energy knocked Kandomere off his feet, making him feel like his lungs had been pierced. He struggled to get a breath while Montehugh fired off some shots at the inferni's retreating form.
“Boss!” Montehugh's voice was panicked. “Boss, talk to me!”
Kandomere struggled to his feet as his partner helped him. Coughing, Kandomere leaned heavily on the large man's shoulder. “I'm going to need a doctor, Ulysses.”
The MTF kept a well-staffed medical facility specifically to treat hostile magic the agents encountered in the line of duty. After their encounter with the inferni, Kandomere had been examined and kept under observation, though the doctors assured him there didn't appear to be any lingering effects. Probably just a diversion, they had said. Kandomere wasn't so sure.
Montehugh visited his recovery room, keeping him up to date on the case and generally checking in on him. Over the years, their partnership had fostered friendship as well. Kandomere was genuinely fond of the red-haired man and his family.
“Oh, and your girlfriend was asking about you.” Montehugh said with half a smile.
Before he could answer, Kandomere was siezed with a coughing fit. Montehugh poured his partner some water and waited until the elf was able to take a breath again before handing it to him. Kandomere took a sip and cleared his throat.
“I'm sorry, what?”
“That little cutie at the archive circulation desk that's always making moon-eyes at you. She asked how you're doing.”
“Ah, she's not-”
“Yeah, I know, I know. Do you, though?”
Kandomere stands in the archives, observing the woman at the circulation desk. The tickle in his throat overtakes him and he steps back out into the hallway, coughing uncontrollably. The coughing attacks are becoming more frequent. Looking down into his open hand, he sees something red. Blood? No, petals. Rose petals.
He takes the elevator back up to the medical wing.
“I need to see Dr. Ikeda.”
After another physical exam, Dr. Ikeda reiterates there's nothing physically wrong with him, but there is a known spell that causes these kinds of symptoms.
“I believe the magic shockwave that incapacitated you was a hanahaki spell.” Dr. Ikeda explains. “The petals are a psychosomatic response to unresolved romantic feelings, the longer a romantic attachment goes unheeded or unrequited, the worse the attacks become, until they cause death.”
“You're saying I'm literally choking on my feelings?” Kandomere asks. He cradles his head in his hands.
“There are two options. One; you talk to the person you are fixated on and attempt to resolve the feelings. Two; we surgically remove the source of the petals, usually a tumor in the lungs. Surgical removal is an instant cure, but the complications of the surgery make it less than ideal.”
“Complications?” Kandomere felt the weight of every single year of his life bearing down on him at that moment. A life spent avoiding emotional entanglements, of hiding his heart and keeping the ones he cared for safe by keeping them away from himself.
“Yes, removal of the tumor has a high instance of also causing patients to cease feeling love and affection of any sort. Not only towards the person exacerbating the hanahaki, but also friends and even family. Patients who undergo surgical removal report inability to form new attachments, and often it leads to isolation from their previous social circles and families. I do not recommend it.”
Kandomere runs a hand through his steel blue hair, not caring for once whether it falls back in place. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “How long do I have to think about it?”
“I would not suggest waiting much longer, agent. Your case is progressing alarmingly fast. Time is of the essence.”
He avoids the archive. He instructs his personal assistant to tell her he's unavailable when she resorts to coming to his office to check up on him. They were friends, after all, and the unanswered calls, unanswered texts, the avoidance, it must be stinging her. Kandomere feels terrible, but he needs time to think.
The attacks get worse. By the end of the week he's near to coughing up entire rose heads, choking on them. People whisper behind his back, as though he can't hear them. His elegantly pointed ears catch their words from down the hall. Wondering who it is causing the stoic and taciturn agent to leave crushed flower petals in his wake. Wondering why he doesn't just tell them how he feels, he's an elf, he's wealthy, he's handsome, surely his affection would be requited.
They don't know he avoids telling her because he doesn't want to put a target on her back.
It takes two weeks for Montehugh to make the decision for him. Kandomere has been relieved of duty until he can resolve the hanahaki, one way or the other, by the deputy director. His penthouse is quiet except for his constant hacking cough, the trash bins full of petals. He's a mess, hair plastered to his head, bags under his eyes the worst they've ever been, when a knock at the front door surprises him. He wasn't expecting anyone, how did they get buzzed into the building?
It's her, on the other side of the door, face like thunder, bristling in her anger. She pushes past him without so much as a hello, storming into his home and squaring against him.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she demands.
“I'm sick.”
“Yeah, too right you fucking are.”
They stare at each other for a long moment before she sighs, slumping onto his couch, hand over her face. He's aware of her tears before the sound of quiet sobs reach him. He sits down heavily beside her.
“You're dying.” she says, at last.
“Yes.”
“Why are you letting yourself die?” her eyes are red and puffy when she looks at him, and his heart aches. He starts coughing, petals falling from his mouth and squeezing out between his fingers as he tries to cover his mouth. She looks horrified, her face crumbling, as she picks up a petal. “Kandomere...”
He steadies himself with as deep a breath as he can take. “I love you.”
Tears slip down her face as she cups his cheek in her palm. He turns his face into her hand, breathing her scent. “I love you. You monumentally colossally stubborn ass.”
She leans her forehead against his. The tightness in his chest eases, and for the first time in weeks he's able to take a real breath. No coughing. She brushes her thumb across his plush lower lip, before bringing her mouth to his for a soft kiss.
“You are never allowed to scare me this much again, do you hear me?” her eyes are like steel, but there's a terrified fondness beneath her irritation.
He smiles and kisses her again. “Yes, ma'am.”