Chapter Text
Baal’s Headquarters
Kirio slumped down on the floor, coughing up blood. Usually, Kirio coughs because of his sheer lack of mana, but not this time. He clenched his shirt in pain as he gasped out a flower petal.
“Iruma,” He choked, “I can’t wait to see you again.”
Baal looked down at him, crossing his arms.
“More petals? How long has this been going on? You must be utterly obsessed with that boy.”
Kiro chuckled, “I won't eat him right away; I know how determined you are to revive the missing demon king, Derkila.”
“He’s all yours after we revive him, just don’t make too much of a mess.” He warned.
Kirio smirked, “That might be difficult; humans are considered a delicacy, you know. …I wonder if I really can get him to despair.”
***
Sullivans Mansion
Balam had told Iruma about this way to “get thoughts out of your head”. He said it’s called journaling. Iruma figured it was worth a try, considering the amount of stress he was under. He sat down at his desk, wiping the stack of papers out of his way. He fidgeted with the pen in his hand and then started writing.
“These petals have been showing up in my room, and my gut tells me something’s wrong. I’m not confident with my knowledge of netherworld flowers, but these feel out of place. The petals were similar to those in the human realm. Not to mention they were soaked in blood. Ever since they showed up, I’ve kept my room strictly off-limits. I don’t want to worry, Grandpa and Opera-san. So I have to-”
“Iruma-kun~” Sullivan cooed from outside Iruma's bedroom door. “Dinner is ready!”
Iruma jumped up in his seat, not expecting the sudden noise.
“I’ll be down in a second, Grandpa!” He stammered.
He hurriedly stashed his journal under his bed and left his room. “Maybe dinner will take my mind off things.” He thought.
Opera had laid out a brilliant display of dishes, including Sullivan and Iruma’s favorites. Iruma grabbed a serving of soup and placed it in front of him.
Iruma grinned, “Thank you, Opera-san! This looks delicious!”
Oprea smiled back, “Of course, it’s no problem.”
Iruma looked down at the bowl in front of him; the soup was a brilliant red color, making him want to vomit. “It looks just like-” He stopped himself.
“Just like what, my darling grandson?” Sullivan presses.
The soup didn’t look bad per se; Opera did a splendid job on the soup, though the color reminded Iruma of the bloody mess of flower petals he had found. He felt uneasy just thinking about it.
“Never mind,” Iruma spurted out. “I’ll dig in now!”
Iruma wouldn’t waste food, after all. Besides, Opera's cooking had never been wrong before. After ignoring the color, he enjoyed the soup. Though after he finished, he couldn't eat anymore. He couldn’t get the image of blood out of his mind.
“Thank you for the meal! I’ll be heading back to my room. I have to catch up on homework.” He lied. He scrambled out of the dining room.
Opera tilted their head. They were confused why Iruma was leaving the table so early and so hastily, for that matter. They glanced at Sullivan, and he had a look of concern on his face. With Iruma long gone, they walked over to Sullivan’s side.
“Is Iruma-kun alright?” Sullivan sounded out.
“I’m not sure,” Opera answered. “I’ll go find out.”
Opera made their way through the Mansion, taking notice and special care of any messes they found along the way. When they arrived at Iruma's room, a particular scent became apparent: blood. Nothing was holding back Oprea as they almost broke down Iruma’s door, the hinges holding on for dear life.
“Iruma! Are you alright?” They exclaimed as they scanned the room for potential threats.
Iruma was hunched over, his back away from Oprea. After arriving at his room, he had tried to get rid of a stash of petals, accidentally bringing them out for Oprea to smell more easily.
“Iruma…” Opera sighed, “Are you okay?”
Iruma turned around quickly, knocking over the box and spilling the petals onto the floor.
“Ah! Yes, sorry for making you worry.” Iruma tried to clean up his mess before Oprea noticed, but his hands were too clumsy to remotely hide anything.
Oprea bent down. “Those are…” They stopped, a look of horror and despair enveloping their faces. “Sullivan-sama!” Their voices echoed throughout the mansion, alerting Sullivan almost instantly. He quickly teleported to his grandsons' room.
“Is my darling grandson okay?” Sullivan asked.
“Iruma-kun… He’s…” Opera’s ears flattened.
Sullivan took note of the situation and nodded his head, “I see, please call Balam right away.”
Oprea nodded.
***
Living room-30 minutes later
“There’s no doubt about it,” Balam paused. “These are Hanahaki flowers.” He held the petals in his hand, continuing to observe them closely.
“So Iruma has the disease?” Sullivan asked.
Balam shook his head, “It’s possible, but I don’t have enough information right now. I’ve never actually studied Hanahaki Disease before. I thought it was a myth.” He continued, “I’ll need more time to study these flowers. In the meantime, please watch Iruma for me.”
Sullivan nodded. “I see, thank you for visiting us, Balam.”
Balam walked out, then Oprea and Sullivan walked back to Iruma’s room. “Darling Grandson?” Sullivan asked, “Are you doing alright?”
Iruma looked up with a worried expression on his face.
“Yes, Grandpa, I’m okay.” He paused, “I didn’t want you to find those.” He fidgeted with his hands, dreading all the questions they both would ask him.
“I’m sorry we didn’t notice.” Oprea apologized.
Iruma tilted his head. “What do you mean-”
Sullivan cut him off, “You poor thing! We will find a way to cure you for sure!” He whined, jumping to hug his grandson.
Iruma hugged Sullivan back and wondered, “What are they talking about?”