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It isn't new to cough up full blooms. The blood isn't surprising, either. Kuroo's been dealing with both for the past few months — watching it get worse, watching it happen. Knowing the only cure was to forget Kenma, and he would — literally — rather die than do that.
What's new is the way he sways after he hacks up a lung into the toilet and tries to stand, vision blurry.
Oh, he thinks. I must be dying.
He's reached the last page of his story.
Hiding it wasn't that hard, really — a quick excuse to get to the bathroom, or to 'get some air,' to 'study.' It's all it took. Harder to accomplish when him and Kenma started living together during college, but not impossible. Kuroo just got really, really good at vomiting silently.
And Kenma never suspected, because why would he? He didn't realize what was happening. Didn't realize that every glance, every touch Kuroo offered was a gentle declaration. I love you .
Because Kenma didn't. Not like that. Never like that.
And it was finally coming to head. Kuroo tries to laugh, because it's funny , that he's about to die from flowers in the spring. Irony, or something.
He can't really laugh, though. All he can do is choke.
He puts his hand against the countertop as he tries to stand again, but another wave comes up so he ends up falling back to his knees, bowed over the toilet as he coughs out whatever his lungs have produced.
Butterfly weed. Kuroo had looked up what they meant the first time he'd seen the petals — tried to figure it out. Tried to find some meaning. A way to maybe fix it.
The only meaning he'd gotten was, You're fucked, so he'd gone out and tried to find a bouquet of them; gifted them to Kenma, because what was funnier than offering the love of your life the same flowers you were choking on?
I'm dying, he thinks, and has the urge to laugh again. He gets halfway through an attempt before he has to cough — petals and blood pooling into the toilet. Unavoidable. I'm really going to die.
"Kuro…?" he hears distantly, every sense taken up by the burning sensation in his chest, his throat. Taken up by the way he can't fucking stop coughing, can't stop retching.
It hurts. He didn't think it would hurt this much, when it finally happened.
And he had thought about how it would happen. Had come to terms with his decision, because nothing — nothing would make him leave Kenma, and nothing could make him move on.
He'd thought. About how it would affect the other people in his life — his family, his friends. Had refrained from sharing what was happening with any of them, because he knew what they would say. Knew it was selfish to save himself from having to deal with their honest, genuine, and rational pleas; their pleas of forget him.
So it was easier to hide, when he first saw the petals. Easier to deflect with a grin and a wave of the hand when he felt them crowding his throat. Easier still to tell himself, You have time.
Time seems to have run out though.
"Kuro!" he hears again as he slumps back against the bathroom wall, and he tilts his head toward the door, sees Kenma standing there. Eyes wide, chest heaving. Completely clueless.
"Oh, hey," he says, voice hoarse. He's pretty sure there's blood leaking out of his mouth. "Didn't see you there."
"Kuro, what…?" Kenma keeps looking at him and then at the mess Kuroo's made — he tried to contain it to the toilet, but it seems he wasn't quite successful. Blood and blooms surround the base , and he grins at Kenma, mouth pulling up in a parody of a smirk.
"Sorry about the mess," he says, struggling to sit up straighter. If he's going to die, he wants to do it sitting straight, even if nothing else about him is.
"Kuro, what's going on?" Kenma asks, and his voice — oh, Kuroo doesn't like the way his voice wobbles. Doesn't want that. Kenma doesn't deserve that.
"Don't worry about it," Kuroo says, "just some — " And he can't finish his sentence because he starts coughing again, crouching over the toilet.
Kenma hurries to his side. In hindsight, living with the person you love probably made it worse, but what was Kuroo supposed to do? Say no? He couldn't.
"Are you — what's — Kuro," Kenma says, voice frantic in a way Kuroo's never heard before. He's kneeling next to Kuroo now, hand on his arm.
Kuroo reaches out a hand and pats Kenma on the shoulder. A bro pat , a part of him thinks, and he breathes out a laugh. "I'm fine, don't worry. 's just — 's just the way it is."
"No." Kenma's voice pitches higher. "No, what do you mean — who is it? I can — we can find them, I can get them — "
And Kuroo looks at Kenma, lopsided grin in place. "Kenma," he says softly. "Who do you think it is?"
Kenma stares at him. Just stares. A beat passes. Two, then three. Kuroo bends back over the toilet to hack out another lung. Looks back at Kenma, frowns. "Sorry. Wasn't supposed to say that."
"Kuro," Kenma says, and — no, this is wrong. Kenma's eyes are filled with tears, his voice is wobbly, his hands cold where they touch Kuroo's face, and — when did Kenma start touching his face? "Kuro, please, no."
"It's not — " He coughs. "It's not your fault. Don't — please don't blame yourself," he says, looking up at Kenma, eyes blurred with tears due to how hard he's been coughing.
"No, Kuro — " And Kenma's voice hitches. Kuroo can't have that.
He reaches out, trying to cup Kenma's cheek. "No, no, sweetheart, no," he murmurs, because Kenma cannot start crying. "No, it's okay, it's fine, it's — "
"You're dying, " Kenma sobs. "You're — it's because of me , you're dying — "
"It's not because of you," Kuroo says, trying to sound as stern as usual. "It's not because of you, it's because I went and did something stupid. It's not your fault."
"No, no, " Kenma says, and Kuroo's having trouble keeping him clear — a part of him wonders if it's the tears or the bloodloss. Lack of oxygen? Who fucking knows; all he does know is that his head is feeling lighter by the minute. Is this what happens when you're dying? "No, you're — I'm calling an ambulance, I'm not going to lose you — "
"Ambulance can't do shit," Kuroo sing songs, feeling woozy, almost elated. "Can't cure love, baby." His grin stretches wider.
"Yes, hello, I have a friend," Kenma starts, and Kuroo tunes him out. It's so hard to stay awake. Why is he even trying?
"...ro? Kuro? Kuro , please, just wait," he hears Kenma say, and Kuroo opens his eyes. Blinks. He has to answer Kenma.
"What?" he slurs, and another coughing fit overtakes him. He doesn't make it to the toilet this time, just doubles over on the bathroom floor. Lets it all out. Blood and blooms. Inescapable.
"Kuro, please, just stay — the ambulance will be here. "
And Kenma sounds sad. Panicked. Kuroo frowns. That isn't right.
He reaches out to cup Kenma's face — and, oh, when did Kenma start crying? Kuroo should have been paying more attention. "Don't worry 'bout me," he says. "It's okay. 'S just life."
Kenma holds onto the hand that's on his cheek, shakes his head, says, " No, no, it isn't. Just please — "
"If only you were this nice when I told you to eat more regularly," Kuroo says, lolling his head to the side.
And then he's on his back. He lets out a small, "Whoa," and blinks, because how did that happen. And then he feels lips pressing against his. Soft. Warm.
This is what you've been dreaming about, a voice whispers inside his head, and he starts to laugh because it really only took dying to make it happen.
"What're you doing, Kenma?" he asks, pushing Kenma's face away.
"I can — I can save you — I just — " Kenma says, breath hitching, words barely coming out. There's pinpoints of warmth on Kuroo's cheek, and it takes a minute before Kuroo realizes they're Kenma's tears.
"You already saved me," Kuroo says, trying to smirk. "Just by — "
"No, shut up, " Kenma sobs, and he's clutching Kuroo's shirt, mouth twisted. Eyes wide, glossy. Kuroo doesn't think he's ever seen Kenma this emotional; he's flattered, frankly. "Shut up, you're not going to die, I'm not going to let you — " He breaks off, chest heaving.
And it really hits Kuroo, then.
He's dying.
It's really happening.
I don't want to die, he thinks, mind whirring. He doesn't want to die. He doesn't want to die. He doesn't want to die. He wants to be with Kenma, he wants to show up to his parents' 30th anniversary, he wants to be there to watch fucking Lev graduate, he —
He's going to die.
"Oh," he says aloud, blinking up at Kenma. "Oh, I'm really dying, huh?"
"No," Kenma says, shaking his head. He cups Kuroo's face within his hands. "No, you're not." And he leans in again, kissing Kuroo. Keeps leaning in, pressing his lips against Kuroo's, and Kuroo lets it happen.
"What are you doing, Kenma?" he asks softly. A cough; another bloom. "Kenma. Stop it."
"No, I can — I can save you. I can — if I — I can save you," Kenma chokes out, and he leans in again. Kisses Kuroo again.
It should probably feel better, being kissed by the love of your life, but Kenma's frantic actions, the way Kuroo can taste the tears on his lips — well, it doesn't make it a very fantastic experience, frankly.
This is how he's going to go out, he realizes. With Kenma's grief lingering on his lips, with the knowledge that Kenma knows, and he can't — Kenma can't know, Kenma can't feel guilty, it isn't Kenma's fault —
"Hey," he rasps, stopping Kenma's next kiss.
"No, let me — why isn't it working — " Kenma hiccups, and Kuroo hates that the last sight of Kenma he'll see is this: devastated. Tears streaming down his cheeks. Face red, eyes desperate. Kenma deserves better. "Why isn't it working, I'm — " He tries to kiss Kuroo again, and Kuroo stops him with a hand on Kenma's cheek.
"I love you," Kenma whispers, like a secret. "I love you, I don't — you can't — you need to stay. "
"Don't love me the way I love you," Kuroo says, aiming for a smile. He isn't sure how successful he is before he has to turn his head and cough again. "It's okay, though." He lets himself indulge. "Sweetheart, it's okay. You're not at fault, okay? This isn't your fault." He swipes his thumb against Kenma's eyes, collecting the tears that have been streaming down. Imagines doing so in another place, in another life, where he could swipe his thumb against Kenma's cheek without needing an excuse to do so. Where they grew old together.
That was all Kuroo wanted, really. To grow old together. To be there, together.
Together.
"I fucked it up," Kuroo says, and he tries to laugh. It's an ugly sound; ripped up, shredded. "I didn't mean to. I'm — "
"If you say you're sorry," Kenma says, voice wobbling. "If you say you're fucking sorry, I'll — just don't."
Kuroo looks up at him. At the way his hair frames his face — soft, still that ludicrous half-brown half-blond. Still as gorgeous as ever. But it's his eyes — his eyes, teeming with desperation, with need, with urgency, that give Kuroo pause.
He put that there, didn't he?
"I'm sorry," he whispers, letting his hand fall. "You shouldn't — I'm sorry." Kenma shouldn't look like this because of him. "You'll be okay. I love you." He tries to laugh again, but it devolves into a cough so he turns his head, lets the blood and petals make themselves at home on the tile floor.
"Kuro, no," Kenma says, and it feels nice, being cradled by Kenma's hands like this. Feels nice, having Kenma touch him like this. He used to be afraid of allowing himself touches like this; worried it would make things worse, would exacerbate what was already there.
But, well, he is dying, so how much worse can it get?
So he leans into it, allowing himself to feel Kenma's warmth. Blinks up at Kenma. Says, "I don't regret it. I made the choice. And I'd choose remembering you every time."
Kenma makes a noise that sounds halfway between a scream and a sob. "You're not dying, you're not — "
"It's okay," Kuroo says, swallowing against the tide of flowers that wants to come up. Breathing is getting harder with each passing moment. "It's okay, you're okay."
Kenma shakes his head. " No, it's — I saw — I knew — you can't be dying."
"What did you know?" God, he's so tired. But he needs to stay awake. Listen to Kenma.
"I thought — " Kenma takes a deep, heaving breath. "I tried so hard to love you like that, but then I thought you were over it, moving past, I thought you were getting better , you were getting better, Kuro, I'm so sorry — "
"Oh," Kuroo says, letting his head rest against the floor. Eyes shut. "Oh, so you really knew, huh?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't think — "
"It's okay," Kuroo says, opening his eyes so he can reassure Kenma. "It's okay, don't worry. You couldn't have changed anything. Please — please don't blame yourself."
It's what he's clinging onto, at this moment. He needs to make sure that Kenma doesn't blame himself. He needs to make sure Kenma doesn't feel guilty.
But there's more he needs to take care of, too, he remembers.
"I — " He coughs again, the pain lancing up through his lungs. Has to turn away so he doesn't spray spittle into Kenma's face. "I left some letters. In my desk. Can you — I'm sorry, I know it's unfair, but can you please make sure they — I know they would eventually be found, but since you're here — "
They're addressed to his parents. His sister. Friends. One to Kenma. He tried to cover his bases.
He hopes they forgive him.
"Kuro, you're not dying," Kenma says, voice pitched high, grip almost painful with how hard his fingers are pressing into Kuroo's shoulders.
And Kuroo — well, Kuroo lets himself relax against the tiles. Says, "Yeah, Kenma, I am." Softly, "It's okay."
"No, it isn't — it isn't — " Kenma curls over him, crying into Kuroo's chest.
The panic about dying has faded away. There's nothing he can do but accept it.
What's important right now is reassuring Kenma.
"It's okay," he shushes, raising his hand to bury it into Kenma's hair. How often did he dream about being able to do so in other circumstances? Dream of doing so when they were waking up together; to be able to card his hand through Kenma's hair whenever he pleased.
Well, you get to now, a part of him thinks. Congratulations.
"Please, Kuro," he hears Kenma whisper against his chest, and then Kenma looks at him. Pins him with his gaze. He's beautiful, probably shouldn't be the thought running through Kuroo's mind, but, well; there it is. " Please, don't die. Please. Stay with me."
Kuroo smiles. Tries to, at least. Moves his hand to cup Kenma's face. "I'll always be here with you, Kenma." His hand drops. Blinks, each movement getting harder. "I'll always be here with you. Just like you've been here with me."
Kuroo shuts his eyes.