Work Text:
* Present / Future + Present ??? (this is a mess help)
* Past
(you can figure it out i think :D )
Shoyo
Hinata Shoyo hated the hospital. Well, hate was a strong word, but he disliked it very much. There was always that horrid smell of alcohol you could never remove, and the mini heart attacks you get from the speaker overhead that somehow, Shoyo could never notice (he just imagines Tobio and Kei sneering at him in rare compromise at the bright haired boy’s demise.) But most of all, he hates how frequent it was to see people enter this horrendous place and never come out. Was it even a surprise to see how he hated (and how very bad he was at it) saying goodbyes ?
But here he was, his breath ran ragged (very surprisingly,) mumbling ‘511’ under his breath repeatedly, lest he forgot (again) and disturb the kind lady nurse in the information counter (again.) He may or may not have promised Kenma not to come, but there were tingles and shivers all over his body this morning, that would have probably bothered him the whole day if he didn’t at least try to support his friend from the sidelines.
“OOoOh, Shoyo, you can’t come, only Kei and Kuroo can because you’re gonna make a super big deal out of it if you come with,” Shoyo mocked dramatically, causing a passing adult to cover their child’s eyes from the free circus show otherwise known as Shoyo.
‘I’m not that dramatic am I ?’ he thought, before bumping hips into the wall next to the door labelled ‘511.’ Shoyo gritted his teeth in pain, both of his hands supporting his swollen (not really) hip. See, at least if he ever broke his hip or something, he was already in the hospital. Two birds with one stone !
“Anywho, here we are,” Shoyo smiled nervously, as he peeked through the door, pressing his ears very closely to it. He could hear the solemn voice of what seemed to be a man in his middle-age (the doctor, he concluded) and he could see Kenma's and Kuroo’s occasional nods in reply.
“There they are,” he whispered sneakily. “But where’s Tsukishi-”
“Boo.”
Kenma
“Kuroo. You saw?” Kenma wiped the pale yellow petal from the side of his lips. The blonde watched in dismay at how it ripped so quickly in the midst of the growing afternoon breeze whipping through the only window from the room.
Fragile - Kenma had gotten so fragile.
Kuroo froze at the sight of his best friend's bathroom covered in a garden of wilting sunflowers tinged in dark red. Kenma breathes sharply, his chest tightening, stems crawling through his lungs, through his ribs - there is only one more place the flowers strangling Kenma from within that they have not yet crawled through, and yet still Kenma knows his heart is not with him anymore.
Kuroo is still stuck in place when Kenma gags over the kitchen sink, and only then does the taller male’s legs move, his arms immediately around Kenma’s smaller, wheezing frame. Kuroo hunches over as he pats the blonde’s back ever so lightly, while he watches in horror as gigantic sunflowers sprout from Kenma's very small body.
“You are an idiot Kozume Kenma,” Kuroo whispers harshly, but tears have started to form at the edge of his eyes. It falls like the pitter patter of rain, until Kuroo is nothing more than a hot sobbing mess. “You shouldn’t be engulfing yourself in a love so big like that if you knew you couldn’t take it. Who does that? Are you an idiot?”
“I know,” Kenma coughed, but not before sending Kuroo a weak smile. The dark haired male looks away in frustration and wipes away his remaining tears, even though he knew they wouldn’t cease to stop - not this afternoon, not today - possibly, not ever.
“It’s Shoyo, isn’t it?” Kuroo hiccuped, still refusing to look at Kenma in the eye, and instead focusing his gaze on the limp sunflower petals peeking through the slightly ajar bathroom door.
“What gave it away?” Kenma tried to joke, but only ended up coughing again. Kuroo pats his back and offers him some water. Despite the dark haired male’s rash words, the gentleness and fondness of his touch makes Kenma tear up too. They both suffer in silence afterwards (excluding Kenma’s frequent coughing.)
And so, while Kuroo decides to never love someone the same way Kenma did, lest he fall into the same sorry state of his friend, Kenma knew he’d choose this path always if there was ever a trickle of hope Shoyo might fall in love with him someday too.
Shoyo
“...hanahaki disease,” the doctor mentions quite loudly, that it echoes outside the small room, where Hinata stands (‘sneakily.’) His brows furrowed, and his heart pounded quickly and loudly that it overshadowed Kei’s voice next to him.
“Hinata. Hinata. HINATA.”
Hinata opened his eyes in a snap, and faced the direction of the sound of Kei’s voice. He looked..worried? ‘How odd,’ Shoyo thought, but he struggled to shrug it off, his laughter stuck in his throat.
“Ne, Tsukishima. Does the ‘Hanahaki disease’ ring a bell to you?” Hinata asked quietly, as he continued to peek through room 511’s door, despite his knees shaking in fear and the anxiety welling up very quickly inside him.
“..What are you doing here Hinata? Kenma told you-”
“Bullshit,” Hinata snapped. “Why would Kenma want to hide this from me? I could help -”
“How are you so sure,” Kei calmly approached him, “that you could help?”
Hinata gritted his teeth in response, his fists and his knees shaking, struggling to keep up with his emotions. “We-well, it’s hanahaki disease isn’t it? Then I’ll just find the person Kenma loves and-”
“And what?” Kei retorted. “Force them to love him back?”
Hinata turns silent, his forehead creased and his gaze lowered down. Kei silently watches him with pity, before turning away promptly.
“Kenma,” Hinata muttered, making the blonde turn his head towards him. “Kenma’s easy to love when you get to know him.”
Hinata continued. “So I just thought that-”
“Then would you love him, Hinata?”
‘Would I?’ Shoyo frantically thought, shaking his head. ‘What kind of question-’
“I’d try,” he sputtered, but the look of pity Kei gives him makes Shoyo die a little bit inside.
The door opens.
“Shoyo,” Kenma smiled, not sure if the sight of the orange-haired boy made the world easier to breathe in or harder to do so.
“Kenma.” Shoyo’s head shot up, and was brought in the sight of his beloved friend so pale, yet his eyes are covered in starlike fondness, and it hits Shoyo quickly, and his stomach drops as Kenma falls to the floor.
“Sh-shoyo,” Kenma mutters in a coughing fit, as he finds his body held by the person he longed to hold for so long. He sees nothing but a blur of tears from the orange-haired boy, and Kenma smiles, but is pricked with guilt from finding pleasure in Shoyo crying over him. He hears Kuroo and Kei trying to keep calm, as nurses and doctors rushed towards them, trying to get him to let go of Shoyo.
“Kenma,” Kuroo knelt next to him, trying to give him a bright smile but failing miserably. “You have to let him go, Kenma. Please.”
“I don’t want to,” he croaked out.
“Kenma-”
Kenma only pulled Shoyo tighter towards him.
“DAMN IT, DON’T YOU WANT TO SAVE YOURSELF?” Kuroo snapped. “Please just let go,” he sobbed, but Kenma shook his head and weakly smiled at him. “It’s fine, Kuroo. Thank you for everything.”
Kuroo’s knees fall to the ground in surrender and watches Kenma part from his beloved Shoyo.
“Kozume-san-”
“It’s fine, thank you,” Kei nodded to the doctor beside him, who sadly shook his head and called for the other staff to follow with and let the group make their peace with Kenma in his final moments.
“Shoyo,” Kenma called out to the male. “Shoyo,” he coughed, taking the bright-haired boy’s attention immediately. “I’m sorry you had to know like this.”
“No, no Kenma- I’m sorry. I - I love you okay?” Shoyo choked on a sob, as he interlocked his fingers with Kenma’s. “That should make it stop right?”
But either by coincidence or cruel fate, Kenma coughs again, and gags out the rotting remains of sunflowers, its once bright color dimmed with rusty, red mud like color that could only be blood. “You know that’s not true, Shoyo,” he smiles weakly, tears brimming at the edge of his eyes, as he placed the withered flower on Shoyo’s palm. “I’d give you a bouquet, but this is all I have to offer right now. Maybe next time, then.”
Kenma finds guilt in Shoyo’s eyes. He holds him closer. ‘I want to be so much closer than this.’
“I’ll always love you, Hinata Shoyo.”
‘But I can’t.’
Kenma coughs repeatedly, and after which, his breathing had turned more calm as the seconds passed, like a hurricane struggling to stay alive finally giving up and coming to a halt. “So, don’t end up like me - and just tell Tobio the truth already, okay?”
“Kenma-”
“I won't ever hate you for it,” he whispered, and then he was gone.
(Still) Hinata
It’s been a month, or so. Kenma had promised Shoyo a bouquet, but as Kenma’s mother escorted him inside Kenma’s room, Shoyo found that he’d grown him a garden instead. On his bed. On his desk. On his bag, on his clothes - and startling enough, the sunflowers were all faced toward him - everywhere he went, the flowers seeked his attention and presence, and when he walked away, they wilted at an unthinkable pace, and came back to life as he passed by them again just as quickly. This has all been a proof of Kenma’s growing unrequited love - and despite Kenma’s disappearance, he’s still here, kept alive by Shoyo - kept alive by his Sun.
And still, he was at fault for everything else.
“STUPID KENMA!”
“What are you doing?” Tobio came up behind him, making Shoyo jump for his life.
“What are YOU doing?” Shoyo sniffled, rubbing away dried tears (and the not so dry tears.)
“I was going to, um check on you,” he whispered the last part. “Are you okay?”
Hinata mutters a ‘yes’ like it’s second nature for him to say so. “I’m fine,” he said, as he sat on the pavement, and Tobio followed, and sat next to him. Tobio awkwardly offered the smaller boy a carton of milk. He originally saved it for later, but Shoyo looked like he needed it more.
“It’s stupid,” Shoyo muttered, as he gratefully took the milk from Tobio. “I wish we could just pick who we could love. Then maybe it wouldn’t hurt this much.”
“Yeah.”
“Then maybe I’d have picked-” Shoyo stops as he realizes Tobio was listening intently. “I mean, maybe Kenma could have chosen someone else.”
“Who else would he pick then?” Tobio replied.
“I don’t know,” Shoyo shrugged. “Someone better. Someone who’ll love him the same way he’ll love them at least.”
“Who could be ‘someone better’ than you though?,” Tobio murmured out loud from his thoughts, and immediately covering his mouth after, looking away, his face in a flush.
Shoyo raises an eyebrow but doesn’t probe any further than that, but his ears are tinged pink, and he sips on his milk in gulps, wanting to wash away the feeling of butterflies in his stomach, lest they cover up the guilt and regret from Kenma’s passing.
But somewhere inside Shoyo wonders if he might have a chance at his own Sun too, and if Kenma would ever forgive him for finding it.
Kenma
“What are you doing, Kenma?” Shoyo curiously sits down next to him, oblivious to Kenma’s fond gaze and tinted pink cheeks, as he shows him the new game he and Kuroo bought for sale a few days ago.
“OH KENMA, LOOK AT THAT!” Shoyo pointed out at their school garden, where Shoyo got a few turned heads who quickly came back to what they were doing. Shoyo sheepishly rubs his neck, before taking Kenma by the hand to drag him there.
“I didn’t know you guys had sunflowers around here,” Shoyo whispered excitedly, as large, flourishing sunflowers casted a shadow on the two. “This is so cool !!”
Kenma’s lips curved gently, as he placed his phone inside his pockets. “Then maybe I’ll grow you some someday,” he blurted, and before he could take it back, Shoyo grinned at him, his smile reaching his cheeks.
“Thank you Kenma! I’ll look forward to it!”
Kenma smiles back, but is interrupted by a growing pain in his chest. As he coughs, sunflower petals escape his lips, but as he spends the day with Shoyo, Kenma pretends nothing is wrong.