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Violets.

Summary:

It all began one morning when Kokichi awoke with flower petals on his pillowcase.

(They were violets, to be exact, but he wouldn’t learn that until Shuichi told him later on.)

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes and other works inspired by this one.)

Work Text:

It all began one morning when Kokichi awoke with flower petals on his pillowcase.

(They were violets, to be exact, but he wouldn’t learn that until Shuichi told him later on.)

He didn’t think much of it at first. He always slept with his window open, and his next-door neighbors kept a tidy garden in their front yard full of flowers from all over the world. They probably blew in overnight as he lay sleeping on his lonely twin bed.

He dumped them in the garbage and they didn’t cross his mind again.

That is, until they showed up on his desk at school.

He froze when he walked in the classroom and saw the pile waiting for him.

“Hey Kokichi, I think you have a secret admirer.”

They taunted him, their featureless faces giggling in unison as an annoyed Kokichi pushed the leafy appendages onto the floor. What a stupid joke.

It wasn’t that he was scared. Almost nothing frightened the ultimate supreme leader anymore. No, it was the uncertainty, the curious coincidence that made his palms perspire and his mind wander to forbidden places.

He loved a good mystery, but not when it was happening to him.

 

~

 

The petals seemed to appear at the most inconvenient times. They were on his tray when he went to the cafeteria for lunch. They were in his locker when he changed clothes for gym class. They were even in his wallet when he pulled out his spare change to buy panta after school.

“Fuck!” he swore under his breath. And I thought I had a sick sense of humor… He tried to ease his anxious thoughts with self-talk, but speaking his worries out loud only confirmed what he had been trying to ignore all day.

He shoved his books in his backpack and started making his way home when he passed by a familiar black tuft of hair sitting on a bench in front of Hope’s Peak Academy.

The boy was engrossed in a book, probably some true crime novel, and he seemed immune to the world around him. His eyelashes drooped across his slightly flushed cheeks, giving him a feminine appeal uncommonly seen in most boys. 

Kokichi realized he had stopped breathing.

He inhaled sharply, which somehow stirred the detective’s attention. He looked up and gave the ultimate supreme leader a kind smile.

“Hey, Kokichi… oh, come here for a second, I think there’s something in your hair…”

Shuichi reached over and ran his fingers through his hair. Kokichi shivered at the gentle touch. For these few fleeting seconds, all that was on his mind was Shuichi. Shuichi’s thin fingers caressing his hair. Shuichi’s slightly parted lips the color of peach daisies in the early spring. Shuichi’s droopy eyelashes resting upon his pale cheeks.

How he longed to stay in this moment, if only for a little more time.

But alas, all good things must come to an end, no matter how heartfelt.

Shuichi pulled back his hand and showed him what he found.

“Oh, it’s beautiful! I think it’s a violet. Those are my favorite.”

Kokichi’s heart dropped to his stomach. His eyes bore a hole in the purple flower; this time, it was completely intact instead of a bundle of torn petals. He would have panicked, but seeing the serene look on Shuichi’s face stilled his nerves.

“Hmph. I didn’t think you were one for flowers.”

“I’m not really, but violets aren’t usually fragrant, and they don’t give me headaches like other flowers do. And they’re less cliché then roses.”

Shuichi put the flower under his nose and breathed deeply. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh! This one actually has a scent. I read somewhere that their smell comes and goes. Humans can’t always detect it.”

“Wow! You’re full of useless information as always!”

Kokichi grinned, hoping Shuichi would catch his cheeky tone of voice, but regretted it once he saw Shuichi’s smile fade.

“Sorry… that was dumb, I guess.”

You idiot! He shouted at himself inwardly.  Be honest for once!

“Don’t worry, Shumaiii. I’m sure it’ll come in handy someday! Just not today!”

Smooth, jackass.

“Heh… yeah, maybe…”

The detective didn’t say anything for a few seconds. A girlish voice called out to him, and the two young men turned to see a blonde-haired girl waving from a distance. Shuichi closed his book and picked up his bag.

“See you around.”

Those last words hung in the air as Kokichi watched him rush to join her. Their hands intertwined, and he kissed her on the lips. As they walked away together, Kokichi felt a twinge of pain shoot through his chest.

Then, he felt the sudden urge to cough.

He pounded a fist on his chest as the air rushed out his lungs, and from his gaping mouth came a single purple petal.

 

~

 

“Your vitals seem normal, and I didn’t detect anything out of the ordinary on the scans. Remind me again what the problem is?”

The ultimate doctor peered at the skinny young man sitting anxiously on the chair. Despite his ostentatious demeanor, he could tell he was deeply troubled by something. Although it was like pulling teeth trying to get him to admit it.

The purple haired boy had burst into the campus hospital demanding to see the head of medicine and had almost given poor Mikan a heart attack. He took one look at him and knew his physical illness was unrelated to any serious medical issue. He humored him anyway.

“I got a bad cough out of nowhere and some… purple stuff came out.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “Purple stuff?”

“Doy! Did I stutter? You can’t tell me that’s normal, doc.”

The sound of fast typing echoed in the examination room.

“Do you have any other noticeable symptoms?”

“Mmmm, nope! That’s it! Soooo, am I infected with some sort of alien virus or something? Is a monster gonna burst out of my chest tonight when I’m asleep?”

“I doubt that, but I wonder if there’s another underlying cause that you may not be paying attention to.”

“Such as?”

The doctor paused for a moment.

“Have you been experiencing intense longing, perhaps for an object, a place… or a person?”

The young man scoffed.

“What kind of question is that? Are you sure you’re a professional?”

“I suspect you’re either suffering from cholera or an unrequited crush. More likely the latter than the former, but unfortunately that disease is uncurable. At least, it is in a doctor’s office.”

“Wooooow, it’s like a hypochondriac’s worst fear! I should’ve just googled Web MD, it would’ve saved me the copay! Right, doc?”

It was no use trying to spit out a scathing joke; the tremor in his voice could be heard from a mile away. The doctor wheeled his chair around so that he could meet his patient face to face.

“Listen to me and listen closely. If you let this disease consume you, you will perish without a trace. I suggest you either seek counseling or take matters into your own hands. That’s the best advice I can give you.”

He led him out of his office with a prescription for water and a good night’s sleep, which the young man quickly crumpled up and left on the ground with a sneer. As he watched his patient leave the office, he saw a trail of violet petals left in his footsteps.

 

~

 

Over the next few days, his condition worsened.

One morning, on the third day, he awoke with a crown of flowers that appeared to be growing from his head. He pulled them from the roots, seething in pain as he ripped them off his scalp.

They had grown back and fully blossomed by lunchtime.

He found himself suffering from random fits of coughing, which produced more purple petals and never seemed to cease no matter how much he spit up.

He tried to keep going to school despite his discomfort, but the taunts from his classmates were enough to keep him home for the rest of the week. Before long, several days had passed and he was beginning to wonder if things would ever go back to normal again.

Various students stopped by his house over this time to drop off homework. He never answered the doorbell; he’d wait at the window behind dark curtains until they gave up and left the discarded books at his doorstep.

After two weeks, his hands were covered in vines and he couldn’t eat regular food without feeling nauseous. He also couldn’t bear the keep the shades drawn for too long; he craved the taste of sunlight and warmth. He even turned off the A/C, despite temperatures going above 80.

He drank more water than ever before, with a thirst that felt like it could never be quenched. He even tried to drink his favorite panta flavor, but he spit it out before it reached his throat.

Every time he walked by the mirror, he’d notice a new blossom. They seemed to pop up out of nowhere, but mostly when he thought of Shuichi. He’d think about the way Shuichi had run his fingers through his bangs, and a new violet would appear on his forehead. He’d ponder the sensation of Shuichi’s teeth nibbling at his ear, and one would blossom behind it. He’d fantasize about Shuichi’s lips softly kissing the crevice of his neck, and a flower bloomed on his collarbone.

Shuichi. This was all his fault.

He was the one who had infiltrated his thoughts. He haunted him in his sleep, penetrating the depths of his subconscious and inviting himself inside. As the disease progressed, the dreams became more vivid, and in the morning it seemed as if a new garden had grown somewhere new on his body overnight. The worst was when the violets sprung up in between his thighs and groin. The ruffling of the leaves and stems caused him an unbearable itching that couldn’t be scratched by his hands alone.

By week three, he wished for death to grace him so his suffering could finally be over.

 

~

 

“Kokichi? I know you’re in there.”

Shuichi knocked again, but all he got in response was silence.

“Kokichi?”

Nothing.

“I asked the doctor at Hope’s Peak about you. He said there was a cure, but he didn’t suggest it at first because the risk of death was too high, and your symptoms were still mild. But he said you have to do it now, it's fatal!”

He waited for a sign of acknowledgement, footsteps near the door or a flutter of hands by the curtains. But still, nothing.

“Come on! Let's go back to the doctor! He can help you!”

The front door cracked open ever so slightly. Shuichi could’ve sworn he smelled the faint scent of violets oozing into the air.

“Go awaaaaaaay~! I don’t want to see you!”

In truth, he didn’t want Shuichi to see him.

“Open the door… please…”

Another long moment passed. But he finally got a response.

“Fiiiine… but don’t act all scared and cry out in horror. It would be really boring of you.”

The door swung open, and Shuichi’s eyes fell upon the beautifully grotesque form that was Kokichi. Or at least, what remained of him. Thick tufts of neon green grass covered all four limbs. Deep brown dirt had replaced his skin. Big, blooming violet blossoms had burst open on his head; his real hair was nowhere to be seen. The only part left of his humanity was his pale, childlike face and his sorrowful grape-colored eyes.

“Well? Aren’t you gonna tell me how handsome I am?”

“What… what happened to you?!”

Kokichi shrugged. A little bit of loose dirt fell down. “You’re the detective… you tell me.”

He exploded into another fit of coughs. More purple petals floated in the air, lazily drifting onto the ground in front of Shuichi’s shoes.

“Anyway…” he continued in a scratchy voice. “It’s too late for me. I’m done for.”

“Wait… no! There has to be something we can do!”

“Hmmm? And why is it that you care so much about lil old me all of a sudden? You barely looked my way before, and now here you are groveling at my doorstep. As if my life actually matters to you.”

As always, he was half serious and half joking. He couldn’t bring himself to be truly honest, even on the verge of death. However, his words seemed to be getting to Shuichi more than they usually did. The detective clenched his fists and averted his gaze.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I didn’t try harder. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out more. I just… I didn’t know how to deal with all the lies. I felt like I could never get a straight answer from you.”

Kokichi coughed again, on the verge of choking. He was almost out of time. If he was going to ask… he knew he had to do it now.

“You know… there is one thing you could do that might help…”

“What?”

Kokichi hesitated.

It’s now or never

“…I’ve never had my first kiss.”

“Wh-what?!”

He knew it was a long shot, but he figured he was about to die. What did it matter, even if he was rejected?

“Don’t act like you don’t want to… I know you’re secretly in love with me… neeheeh-“

He tried giving him his signature laugh, but another round of coughs silenced him. This time, a few drops of crimson blood fell on the pavement. He saw a glint of panic in Shuichi's pale colored eyes.

“F-fine! Come here…”

Kokichi felt hot blood rushing through every inch of his body. He couldn’t believe he had actually agreed to it. How long had he waited for this moment? How long had he dreamt of this day? And of course, it was only happening when he was on the verge of death.

He closed his eyes and waited with bated breath.

First, a hand upon a shoulder. Then, another on his cheek. He felt Shuichi’s lips against his. He felt Shuichi’s lips against his. He didn’t dare move. Those peach colored lips were as soft as the violet petals and gentle as the dewdrops that fell upon the budding leaves in early spring. His heart fluttered like butterfly wings. Time stood still.

And then, as all good moments do, and all human lives, it ended.

Shuichi pulled away. Kokichi’s eyes were closed. He wasn’t breathing.

It was too late.

Tears leaked from his eyes, falling onto the petals at his feet.

“Damn it, Kokichi… why couldn’t you just tell me? Why did it have to be like this… why?”

He embraced the motionless mass of dirt and plant that was his former classmate and sobbed until his lungs gasped for air. His tears cascaded down in a waterfall of regret. They fell upon the violet flowers like rain and made little rivers that dripped onto the cold concrete below.

After many painful seconds, Shuichi opened his eyes. He was shocked by what he saw.

The violets were falling from Kokichi’s body, withering away into dust as they made contact with the ground. The grass turned brown and fell off his skin. The dirt crumbled away in the wind. The outer layer that had spent weeks growing into a vibrant garden was now wilting and fading away as if it never existed.

Soon, Shuichi was holding the now nude panta-loving boy in his arms, who looked like a child who had finally found sleep after days of restlessness.

“Kokichi! KOKICHI!”

He shook him gently, but he didn’t stir. He watched his chest rise and fall. Air was in his lungs once more. He sighed in relief.

Shuichi took off his jacket and wrapped it around his lithe body. He carried him inside, placed him on his bed with the utmost care, and waited patiently for him to awaken.

Notes:

I wrote this when I was sad and feeling insecure about my writing. It's not my usual genre, so I apologize for the choppy bits.

I recently learned about the concept of hanahaki, which both fascinated me and inspired me. This is my fresh take on it, a little different than the usual way I saw it written. I also love magical realism, and wanted to include some elements of that in this short fic. Although the premise of hanahaki is full of sorrow, I wanted to see if I could end this story on a more hopeful note.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.

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