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When did it start?
Aira didn’t know.
It was slow, a petal at a time.
He realized it was anything but random around the fifth time it happened.
Hiiro.
He had been hanging out with Hiiro. And that’s all it had been, a hang-out, between friends. Friends who would be nothing more. Seriously, what a joke.
Also, he didn’t even know he liked Hiiro, at least, not like that. Hiiro was a great friend, but a friend was all he was… and all he’d ever be. Gah, shut up, for God’s sake. Aira didn’t like Hiiro like that.
Except he did.
Aira loved Hiiro, more than friends, more than best friends, lovers even. Why on earth had it taken coughing up a stupid white petal to figure that out? Seriously, Aira didn’t think he was dense, but maybe he’d have to change his self-assessment. At this point, perhaps he’d be as dense as Hiiro. He shook his head, no, no thinking of him.
Thinking of Hiiro makes it worse.
Hiiro’s mess of red hair, his clear blue eyes that stare right through Aira - as if they were reading his mind, though Hiiro would adamantly deny that he could do that. Then he’d laugh, and Aira would roll his eyes before they’d move on, and talk about something else for hours. Or, Aira would ramble on about whatever and Hiiro would listen, eyes sparkling, and he could tell he was paying attention with how many questions the redhead would ask.
Aira coughed a little as he shook the thoughts out of his head.
Seriously, he has to stop. A couple more white petals landed in his hand.
He had no idea what the flower was growing in his lungs, nor did it really matter.
If he didn’t stop loving Hiiro, he and his flowers would end up in an early grave.
~~~
That being said, time goes by and feelings don’t fade. Not when you spend almost every single day with the person. He and Hiiro had been practising, going out, and doing things together a lot more lately.
He groaned in the safety of his bedroom, curling up on his bed. Stems were wrapping around his rib cage, twisting, tightening, and nothing would stop them from crushing his bones.
With all the time they spent together, it would be nigh impossible if his flowers didn’t grow.
He hoped his roommates couldn’t hear his coughing, hopefully, they were busy. More petals landed on his bed, there was blood too.
He sat up straight and immediately regretted the decision. His body lunged forward as his coughing started again.
Blood.
He wasn’t that bad before. How on earth was he going to clean this up?
More petals left his mouth, joined with the spattering of more red. If he didn’t feel like screaming, he’d almost be disappointed that the pretty white of the flowers had been stained.
Aira took frantic breaths, desperate for oxygen as the coughing let up. He could breathe, the stems had let up, and perhaps they were done growing for the day.
Once he could breathe again, Aira hurriedly set about cleaning the petals and blood off his white sheets. Note to self: don’t use white sheets again, something darker would be better, make it easier if the future doesn’t let up.
~~~
It had been a few months now.
He was stocked up on painkillers, perhaps an overdose of those would kill him before his love did. Still, it was the only way he was going to be able to keep up with his idol activities, the only way to keep up appearances. He wouldn’t want to worry anyone, that would be awful. He was already lagging behind everyone, he couldn’t afford to take a break. If he did, Hiiro would be further away than ever. Being an idol was the only way to stay next to him.
Sure, Aira had started out wanting to be an idol simply because of his love, but being an idol had brought him so many new friends - he wouldn’t give that up for the world. He wouldn’t give up Hiiro for the world, not that he’d ever say that out loud. He couldn’t. If he did.
If he did…
If he did, well, it could only go two ways.
Hiiro would like him back, or Hiiro would say he doesn’t like Aira.
That would kill him, literally.
Aira didn’t want to die so soon, so he’d rather not risk it.
It was easier this way. Sure, he would die eventually, but he’d get to spend every moment he possibly could being next to Hiiro.
His head banged on his desk as his coughing grew worse. He clutched at his stomach as if that would stop it. Nothing stopped it. Medication just numbed the pain, but it never got rid of it. He knew that.
Blood coated his tongue and mouth. Red-stained white flower buds forced themselves out of his throat and into the open. They landed softly on the desk. Ah, he’d have to replace this notebook now.
At least his desk would be easier to clean than his bed had been.
~~~
It happened after a live.
The first flower, the first of many, bloomed from his mouth.
He could tell it was coming. He got lucky, Alkaloid had just gotten off the stage.
“I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Are you alright, Aira?” Hiiro asked.
Aira nodded, his face pale, before rushing away.
Despite the ache in his legs from a lengthy performance, Aira ran to the toilets faster than he had ever run anywhere before. He locked the door hastily behind him and crouched over the toilet bowl. He gripped the sides of it, not caring that it was a public bathroom. The cough wracked his body, shaking it. His knees fell to the floor, he winced, another coughing fit took over. God, he hopes it doesn’t stain his uniform, how’d he get that out before anyone sees?
By now, he was used to the blood sticking his mouth together.
He was, however, not used to the feeling of something forcing its way up his windpipe. It burns. He clawed at his neck. His hoarse coughs making him spit more and more blood onto the ceramic. A petal here, another there, and then there it was.
Well, he was right about the flower being white. And it was certainly beautiful, despite getting slowly soaked in the water of a toilet. He still didn’t know what it was, he’d have to look that up - not that it mattered to fixing his problem.
He sighed, head collapsing onto his arm, as he rested against the wall of the bathroom for a moment.
Collecting himself, he flushed the toilet and checked his uniform - minimally bloody, easy to wipe away - before preparing to leave.
His unit mates gave him concerned looks as he returned, but he waved them away with a simple excuse, that, even if no one believed it, meant they didn’t pry further.
~~~
He had looked up what the flower was. A white carnation. Not that it mattered, it would kill him regardless.
Ah, love is as painful as it is beautiful.
“Aira-san, are you alright?” He nodded, internally scolding himself, he had asked to see Tatsumi, he couldn’t waste his time now, could he?
“I don’t believe you.” Aira perked up at that. His act was perfect, it was as flawless as it could be. No one had seen him cough up anything, no one had even seen the flowers. His roommates certainly hadn’t said anything about his coughing fits, so he assumed they weren’t too loud, What on earth did Tatsumi know?
“Really, Tattsun-senpai, I’m fine. I wanted to ask you a question. Do you know anything about the language of flowers?” He looked confused.
“I’ve been playing a game recently,” a lie, “and white carnations came up as a clue,” another lie, “and since you like gardening, I thought maybe you would know something, so I thought I could ask you, Of course, I didn’t call you out just for that, I thought we could hang out as well,” not a lie.
Aira’s mind was scattered, please let Tatsumi believe him. He didn’t seem convinced, but he answered anyway.
“I know a little.”
“Really! I love~!”
Tatsumi chuckled as Aira looked at him expectantly.
“From what I remember, it’s got something to do with love, the pure sort. It’s a rather nice meaning when I think about it. What game are you playing Aira-san?”
“Just a puzzle game…” Tatsumi nodded.
“Aira-san, if you ever need any help, your unit mates, I, am always here, You can always talk to me.”
Aira smiled in response, nodding.
Tatsumi wasn’t sure Aira really understood.
~~~
Today would be risky.
He was going out with Hiiro today!
Almost like a date… it was only the two of them.
He shook the ideas out of his head as he fixed his outfit in the mirror. It was not a date. It was a hang-out between friends. A little outing, that’s all it was, to a café, with no one else. His cheeks flushed.
“Going on a date, Shiratori-kun?” Eichi was leaning against his open doorway.
“It’s not a date.” Could it be a date? He didn’t know anymore.
Eichi laughed and left him to it.
“Hiro-kun!”
“Aira!”
“Shall we go inside?”
After grabbing a menu, the two sat at a table by the window. Sunlight flooded in, lighting up Hiiro’s face. He distracted himself from staring by studying the menu.
“What are you getting Aira?”
“I think I’m going to have this one.” He pointed at it.
“Then I’ll get what Aira wants.”
Aira looked up at him. He promised he wouldn’t get mad at Hiiro, he said he would try and cherish the moments they had together since he had no idea which would be his last, but Hiiro was seriously testing his limits.
“Hiro-kun, you have to choose your own. What if you don’t like what I get? Will you still eat it?”
“If I don’t like it, Aira can eat it.”
“Seriously, how am I going to eat two meals?”
“Then, Aira can choose for me. I don’t know what many of these are, and Aira seems to know a lot about them, so I’m confident you can choose something I’ll like. And even if I don’t like it, I’ll eat it anyway, because Aira chose it for me.” There he goes again. Surely, it would be impossible not to fall in love with someone who easily says things like that.
Aira gave in with a sigh. He ended up choosing a meal, that if Aira could eat two, he would’ve gotten for himself - it’s a little selfish, but hey, he could eat off Hiiro’s plate if he wanted now.
The two sat and chatted, Aira could almost forget about the flowers blooming in his chest.
Almost.
Hiiro was sitting right across from him. Aira had a straight view of his eyes, his hair, and the crazy motions he’d make as he talked, could see him listening intently, hanging on to Aira’s every word. And Aira was hanging on to his, burning the scenes into his memory, like the flowers burned his lungs, he’d remember it for the rest of his short life. Play it on repeat. It would be his favourite movie, and he’d watch it every night.
Their food arrived, and if Aira ended up stealing just a little of Hiiro’s food, nobody needed to know.
~~~
He thought he was used to it by now, but, by God, it only got more painful.
It had woken him from his sleep, randomly. Perhaps he had been dreaming a dream of him and Hiiro, he didn’t know, it didn’t matter.
At this point, the flowers seemed to bloom randomly, Or he was just thinking of Hiiro too much for their liking.
He curled up under his not-white blankets and clutched his stomach. Pain seared through his body. Stems twisted around his chest, their leaves poking holes in his lungs. Tears streamed down his face. It crawled up his throat. The coughs got worse, louder, each one sending a tremor through him. He convulsed.
The flowers, spattered with blood, formed an unruly bouquet on his sheets.
His chest was being ripped open.
Each breath more laborious than the last.
Until it wasn’t.
~~~
Afterword:
Hiiro sat alone after the funeral.
He had heard about the disease Aira had. Coughing up flowers because of unrequited love. He had a few questions, but the most blaring was, who? Who did Aira love? Who could Aira have possibly loved? And who wouldn’t love him back?
A cough.
A single white petal landed in his hand.
He smiled and stared at the sky.
“Aira, I will see you soon.”