Chapter Text
The first time Kanon threw up the petals, she was ecstatic. She gathered them up from the bottom of the bathroom sink, and turned each one over in her hand. They were wide and flat, a yellow-orangey colour, and brittle between her fingers. Only three, but each one was perfect. It was proof that their love was meant to be.
After all, isn't that what every light novel, every romance movie, every beautiful, wide-eyed protagonist and handsome love interest had told her? Hanahaki disease was not a curse, but a blessing. Society was already against them, and now her own body was rebelling too. And if she knew one thing about romance, it was the more obstacles you faced, the more likely you were to succeed. She would overcome it, with his help, and they would live happily ever after. She just had to confess. And she was very good at that.
It was only after a full year of failed confessions and handful upon handful of yellow-orange petals that Kanon began to worry. Spending nearly every afternoon hunched over a toilet bowl, trying desperately to breathe through your nose as you coughed up the plant that was growing in your lungs wasn't as romantic as she had expected it to be. In fact, it was awful. And the more she was turned down, the worse it got. But still, she didn't tell anyone. Who would she tell? The only person who would actually care was the one person that could never know. Because if he did know, he'd leave her, try to get her to forget him, so that the flower would shrivel up and die. And she couldn't let that happen.
So she kept trying. Again and again and again. Leon graduated from Hope's Peak, and she was there with a bouquet of flowers and her love on her lips. When she graduated two years later, she didn't spend the night out partying with the classmates she barely knew, but lying on her back in Leon's room, as he told her, as gently as he could, that they could never be together. There was nothing wrong with her- he loved her more than anyone- but they were cousins. That's all there was to it.
On her 20th birthday, she coughed up her first full flower. It was ridiculous, how perfectly formed it was. Like she'd just plucked it from the stem. She crushed it in her palm and threw it into the garbage.
She'd known the truth all along, but it had taken four years for her to understand the weight of it. Either Leon would love her, or she would die.
She couldn't give up. Because eventually, eventually, she had to succeed.
***
“Jesus, Kanon, how long before you get it? I'm not gonna go out with you.”
Kanon smothered the urge to stamp her foot. She wasn't some dumb kid. But as she replied, she sounded a whole lot like one.
“Stop being so stubborn! It's just one date.”
Leon snorted. They'd reached his sleek red car now, and he felt inside his pocket for the keys, back turned to her. “I'm the one being stubborn? This is what, your four thousandth confession?”
“Yes, you are! I mean, it's pretty much what we're doing anyway. We go out all the time, and you've already told me I'm the most important person in your life. I love you, and you love me.”
“Exactly,” Her cousin sighed, the car door half-open. “Why can't you just be satisfied with that? You're right. I love you. But this,” He gestured in her general direction with his free hand, “Needs to stop. We're not kids anymore. I've already said no, okay? My answer's not gonna change anytime soon." With a final wave, he slid into the driver's seat. “Bye, Kanon.”
She opened her mouth to apologise or retort or something, but her words were strangled before she even knew what they were. It was happening again.
Her throat constricted, her chest, constantly aching, twisted sharply. She doubled over, crouched on the dirty sidewalk, and willed it back. No, no, not now, please not now, please, please... It was all she could do to raise her head and watch the wheels of Leon's car as they pulled out from the roadside, and disappeared from view.
Fuck. From the edges of her vision, she saw a few people pausing their afternoon strolls to look down at her with mild curiosity. Her fingers dug into the tarmac, and with shaking legs, she pushed herself up. She couldn't stop it now, but she could at least go somewhere more private. She didn't want to see the pitiful stares, the words of concern from total strangers, who couldn't care less about her. If she was gonna hurt, she'd hurt on her own terms.
One foot in front of the other. Left, right, left, right. Her breaths came out sharp and shallow, keeping time with the pain that freshly erupted with each step. Her eyes were blurred with tears, so she clenched them shut and let the sounds of the city guide her, searching for some kind of silence. Cars, voices, traffic lights, footsteps. Then, to her left, nothing.
She turned and staggered as quickly as she could into the darkness. Her elbow hit something metal, and she grabbed onto it, held out her hands until they hit a rough brick wall. With that final piece of solidity, she fell to her knees, and let the petals out.
When Kanon was retching, she'd learnt that the best thing to do was give up and let it happen, and try to think about something else. Float away from it, she guessed, away from the shame and aching and the horrible struggle, and towards something brighter. But today, she was tethered to reality. No matter how hard she tried, her mind remained in the grime and the grit, and Leon's face as he turned away from her, eyes heavy with disappointment. And she was aware of everything, every tiny, awful sensation, as her body tore itself apart.
It ended, like it always did, and Kanon opened her eyes and stared down at the mess of blood and bile and petals she had coughed up. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, spat out the last of the blood. She needed a drink of water, something to sooth her throat and wash out the taste. Instead, she swallowed it all down and shuffled away until she could rest her back against the wall.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did she have to ruin it? They'd been having a great time. They'd gone to the mall that'd opened up a few weeks ago, bought ice-cream, checked out some of the clothing stores. Leon made fun of her ‘stupid 90’s slang', and she teased him about his musical aspirations which had yet to be reached. It had all been so natural that it made her chest ache. And then they were leaving the building, and his hand brushed hers, and she'd thought this is it, this is my chance.
He was right. He wasn't gonna change his mind. Every time she confessed her feelings, she saw how his face fell. She was hurting him, almost as much as she was hurting herself. It was useless. So maybe she should just stop trying altogether. Maybe…
A clatter echoed loudly from nearby, and she started. Three men had entered the alley from the other side, and were now walking further in. No, she realised as her eyes adjusted to the sight, not all of them were walking. Two of them were violently dragging the third, one on either side, holding his arms roughly as his feet scrabbled against the ground.
Kanon shrank back into the shadows, hiding behind the garbage can she had stumbled against while entering. They hadn't seen her yet, too absorbed with keeping the other man in check. If she wanted to escape, she needed to do so now. But she didn't move. Before she could figure out what exactly compelled her to stay, the third man was slammed against a wall face-first, and she was straining to hear his words.
"Look, man, I'm telling you, I'll get you the money!" He said, muffled by dirty bricks. "Just wait a month or two, I swear, and-"
"The boss has already waited eight years." One of the other men, stocky and with way too much grease in his hair, motioned to his companion. He stretched his sizeable muscles, and, one hand still pinning the man to the wall, twisted the captive's arm forward until it was directly in front of Greasy. With an equally greasy smile, he withdrew a long, thin object from his coat. It was only when he lifted it into the dull sunlight that Kanon realised it was a knife. "He figures that you might need a little... encouragement."
The muscly one loosened his grip on the man just enough for him to twist his head and get a view of the wicked-looking weapon. Even from behind a garbage bin thirty feet away, she could see terror fill his face, before it was pushed back into the wall. His arms and legs began to jerk in some futile attempt to break free, before Greasy pressed the blade against his wrist, and he froze, quivering. Kanon winced.
"Listen, I-" His voice broke off, and he took a few deep breaths, "Go to my apartment, the bedroom to the left. I've got artefacts there, they're all worth millions, I promise. You can take any you want, any at all! Just please, please don't hurt me!"
Muscles snorted. "Please. We've seen your fuckin' collection. Nobody's gullible enough to pay jack shit for that garbage. Well, 'cept for you."
The man gave a cry of indignation before Greasy reminded him of the knife by pressing it deeper into his skin. "I'm afraid that there's no other way, Mr. Hagakure. We gave you your chance, and you didn't take it. Now, you'll have to be punished. But I appreciate your enthusiasm. Tell you what," He smiled a cold, cold smile. "I'll even let you pick the finger."
That was it. Kanon stood up, following the same inexorable impulse that had made her stay in the alley in the first place. "Hey!" She said, then waited until both men had turned to her, eyes widening. Okay. Okay. She could do this. "What are you doing?"
Greasy was the first to recover. He twirled the knife between his fingers, ensuring that she had a perfect view of it as she moved closer. "None of your concern, sweetheart. Now run along home, before you get yourself hurt."
"As if." She was close enough to see the thin scars running along his face, smell the sweat that coated Muscle's hulking form. Still, she kept going. "Let him go, losers."
Muscles looked her up and down, smirking. "Cocky little thing, ain't you? Cute, too. I'd hate to ruin that pretty face. But hey, if you wanna be taught a lesson, I ain't gonna stop ya." He released the man, Hagakure, who slumped to the ground, and spread his arms out in a lazy challenge. "Go ahead."
It was at this point that Kanon realised exactly how dumb this decision was. She'd just provoked two incredibly dangerous men, one of whom could cut her into quarters with two flick of his wrist. She'd be lucky to make it out of this alive, let alone uninjured.
Welp, too late to back out now!
She was smart enough not to jump at them immediately, not when they were ready for her. She stopped a few feet away, and made a show of her confidence failing her. She widened her eyes, breathed in deep, and tried to shudder. She needed them to underestimate her. Muscles' arms relaxed, and Greasy seemed to loosen his hold on the knife. Good. Now all she needed was an opportunity.
Then Hagakure pushed himself up and tried to make a break for it. Muscles turned to grab him, Greasy glanced away from her, and then Kanon was launching herself forward, colliding with Greasy and falling, falling, until they met the ground with a crunch. There was a shout from somewhere above her, but Kanon hardly even registered it, she was too busy trying to wrestle the knife away from his slimy grip. He was fierce, and better trained, but she had years of exercise and a wild determination on her side. With a final elbow to his gut, he released it, and she scrambled to her feet, prize in hand.
"Behind you!" Hagakure yelled.
Kanon turned in time to see Muscles grabbing her by the arm, pulling her off the ground. She kicked and wriggled, then slashed wildly with the knife, and felt rather than saw that she had hit skin. He hissed in pain, and released her, his hands flying to the thin gash across his stomach, oozing pinkish blood. She stood there, panting, ready to keep going.
But then Hagakure was pulling at her, pulling her away, and her strength left her. What the hell was she thinking? If she kept fighting, it was only a matter of time until her lungs gave out again, and she became completely and utterly powerless. She needed to run, while she still could.
Grabbing Hagakure's arm, she turned and sprinted through the alleyway, bursting out into another empty street. Between the sickening rhythm of her breaths, and her companion's stumbling footsteps, she couldn't tell if Muscles was following them. She didn't risk a glance back- she turned left, towards the distant sounds of life that drifted above the run-down, crumbling buildings. Once they made it to the main streets, they'd be safe.
Within a few minutes, both of them were exhausted. Hagakure wasn't particularly fit to begin with, a realisation Kanon made fifteen seconds into their escape, when she had to begin physically dragging him forward. She, however, was struggling for a different reason. With each step, her lungs ached a little more. Eventually breathing became more strenuous than actually running. But she pushed the pain aside, and pushed herself forward, moving, moving, until finally they were surrounded by cars and people and she could let go of Hagakure and collapse against a wall and breathe, breathe, breathe.
When she was finally able to string her thoughts together, she started with the priorities. Complete and utter amazement.
Holy shit. Holy shit.
"Holy shit!" said Hagakure, "That was incredible, dude!"
Kanon glanced down at him, his back against the wall, and his legs spread out across the pathway. A passing woman edged around him, shooting him a look of obvious distaste, but he didn't seem to notice. He looked up at Kanon, grinning. "How'd you do that?"
Despite the retroactive fear that was finally hitting her, she couldn't help but smile back. "No clue. It just sorta happened, I guess."
"Well, you 'just sorta' saved my life. And my finger." He stood up, and Kanon noticed for the first time just how big his hair was. Dreadlocks shooting out from all directions, like some strange, lanky hedgehog.
"Yasuhiro Hagakure," he said.
"Huh? Oh, right!" Kanon dragged her eyes away from his hair. The name was familiar, but she couldn't place it. "I'm Kanon Nakajima. Nice meeting you, Yasu."
It was then that a pretty obvious question occurred to her- one that, in hindsight, she probably should've asked before introducing herself to this complete stranger. "Hey... who were those guys? And what'd they want with you, anyway? I better not have just thrown down for some creep."
"Oh, no, no, don't worry about it!" Yasu waved his arms in front of him, like he was trying to brush away her fears. "I'm not a criminal or anything. Well, not like, an official one at least. Those guys are part of some big gang. They say I owe money to their boss, and they won't leave me alone until I pay up."
"Ugh. That's wack." Kanon said, ignoring the look of confusion at her slang, "Do you?"
"What, owe money? Nah, not really." Yasu scratched the back of his head, his hand completely disappearing as it sunk into his hair. "I'm a clairvoyant, and I gave this guy's daughter a reading which she really didn't like, so then-"
"Hang on," Kanon interrupted, "You're a clairvoyant?"
He smiled proudly. "That's right! Best in the world, actually."
"No way!" Now she remembered where she knew him from. Unconsciously, she stepped forward, until she had to look up to meet his gaze. "You're Supernova, aren't you? I saw you on TV a couple years ago. That's so cool!"
Yasu flushed slightly, before regaining his composure. "Always nice to meet a fan."
She wasn't a fan, nor was she really a hard-core occultist, but she couldn't pass this opportunity up. She needed to find out what her future held. "D'you think you could give me a reading?"
"Well..." Yasu hesitated. "I dunno if you could afford it. It's pretty expensive."
"Oh, come on! I just saved you from being, like, brutally maimed. The least you can do is tell me my fortune." He still looked reluctant. Kanon sighed. "Look, I'm getting pretty tired of standing in the middle of the street, so how 'bout this? I'll buy you lunch- you can pick the place- and you can predict my future there. Lunch and a finger. That's well worth a reading. You down?"
Yasu had brightened considerably at the mention of lunch, and when she finished speaking he nodded. "Deal! There's this great sandwich place a couple blocks away, but it's super expensive. You think we could go there?"
"Absolutely," Kanon smiled, and stepped out beside him. "Lead the way."
As they set off, Yasuhiro chattering excitedly about just how good this place's salami was, Kanon thought about the events that had transpired. Hey, while she was already believing in the occult, why not believe a little more? Maybe it was fate that brought her to this man. Maybe, once her future had been revealed, she wouldn't feel so confused and hopeless. Maybe the world would start to make sense. And maybe, just maybe, she'd finally know what to do about Leon.
And as she thought of her cousin, her chest seemed to ache a little less.