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His lungs heaved. expelling another wave of flowers and blood. It was something he was used to by now, as the second year lay in his usual hospital bed - a private room for one, with no visitors, for no one would visit a sinner such as him anyway. His plan was going smoothly becoming steps closer to the person he admired, whom he wanted to be with.
At first he has believed this blood and flowers was his condition getting worse, the flowers but a figment of his imagination from the stress of the purge of yumenosaki academy. It was a few weeks later when he had discovered the truth. A dire case of hanahaki. And despite his intense fear of his inevitable death -- he did not get it removed.
His hand moved. Weak. Shaky. He picked up a red flower from the sea of yellow roses and tulips.
A spider lily.
Eichi couldn't help but chuckle. He knew all about flowers. Hell, who wouldn't have their interest peaked after coughing out so many. He remembered one of the first few times after clearing his lungs from flowers. He wondered what exactly they meant so he did some research. At first they were soft, kinder flowers. Delicate, pretty, not mattered in the metallic stench of his own blood. They'd have meanings such as love, hope and innocence.
Now he's left with an eye watering array of bright yellows. Yellows for jealousy. Yellows for respect. Yellows for one sided love.
Reds in the form of his blood, coating the yellow petals. Reds in the form of a spider lily - meaning death.
He twirled the flower in his hand. It was heavy, covered in the thick layer of his blood. He didn't want to die. He didn't want this to be the last thing he was remembered for, some pathetic rich boy taken by his illness before he could change the school, before he could vanquish the Oddballs. Before he could confess to the one he loved.
The blood from the flower coated his hands though. His crimes will not be forgiven when he makes it to the afterlife, god surely already has favourites and Eichi never made it into those books.
His eyes moved to the ceiling lights again, a popular phrase brought to his head.
"It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all."
He could feel his breathing slow, his body felt like it was shutting down. This last quote crossed his mind. He thinks he understands what it means now.