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Rinne stared blankly at the wall, unmoving.
The only sound that could be heard throughout the room was the ticking of the old clock, up on the wall, a few minutes slow.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
His stomach growled, but he didn’t move, silently sitting in place on an old, worn-down couch. Dried traces of blood and petals scattered across the old, fraying cover.
Tick.
Untouched dishes piled up in the sink, a pot and various utensils scattered up on the counter, waiting to be put back in their spots.
Tick.
Rinne felt the buzz of his phone, then several more. Messages from his unit mates, or Hiiro, probably.
He didn’t make any move to take it out.
Tick.
He felt his empty stomach lurch, a nauseating feeling take over. Bending over, he vomited out a mess of withered petals and blood onto the ground, coughing and gagging until a whole clump of ash gray petals matted in blood splattered in a heap.
Tick.
Shaking, Rinne lowered himself back to his original hunched-over position, back to staring at the wall blankly, blood and petals left all around his mouth.
His phone suddenly started to ring, a sharp sound that made his head ache, a throbbing sensation that made him want to burst.
He picked the phone up, turning the speaker on.
“Amagi. Have you gone out at all?”
He hasn’t. He doesn’t respond .
“ Did you at least eat, Rinne-han? You have to eat.”
What was the point of eating, if nothing tasted right? If nothing would ever taste the same? If it all would come out in an ugly mess of withered primrose and blood?
“Rinne-han…He wouldn’t like to see you like this, you know. He really wouldn’t.”
He isn’t here.
He should be here, but he isn’t.
He isn’t, and it’s all Rinne’s fault.
All of it.
Niki was gone, and it was all Rinne’s fault.
“ Amagi, you have to stop punishing yourself. It’s not your fault. No one expected Shiina’s condition to change that fast. Shiina would hate to see you like this.”
Rinne knows that. Niki is too kind. Niki was too kind. When he cared for someone he put in all his love, all of his attention and passion into it. He was warm, the sunshine of a hot summer day.
Niki wouldn’t blame him at all. Rinne knew that.
However, it really was all his fault.
He wouldn’t be there vomiting up withered petals and clotted blood if it wasn’t.
“Amagi, at least reply to your brother. He’s worried sick about you. We’ll be over in a bit, Oukawa and Himeru still have some things to talk about with the Producer.”
The call ends, and Rinne is left staring at his lockscreen. A picture of Niki smiling with a peace sign, a half-eaten pizza in one hand. An old photo from back when they lived together, one that Rinne cherished.
What did he do wrong?
How could he let this happen?
Why did he let it happen?
Rinne had gone out for a little while, to run errands and attend several meetings.
He didn’t anticipate returning to a cold apartment, the door left open, a trail of blood and honeysuckle petals, buds, flowers, leading out and down the stairs, onto the street.
Blood running cold, he couldn’t hear himself scream as he saw the cold, lifeless body of the one he loved, honeysuckle flowers blooming out of him as he laid on the ground, a crowd gathered around, murmuring.
He couldn’t feel anything as he ran, pushing his way through the crowd, some recognizing him with pitiful looks. Couldn’t see anything as he collapsed next to the pile of gray hair, honeysuckle, and blood, so much blood.
An excruciating pain filled his chest, and he had fallen over, vomiting out withered primroses, their bright yellow color quickly fading into an ashy gray.
He had felt arms trying to pull him back, to pry him apart from holding onto Niki, holding onto him as he tried to find that rapidly fading last bit of warmth, last bit of love that he would ever feel.
He found nothing, only the coolness of fully bloomed honeysuckle and the nauseating stickiness of blood.
Rinne turned his phone over, lowering his head to stare at his palms.
He wondered what it was like. Did Niki die alone? Did it hurt? What was he thinking in his last moments? To manage to crawl out of the apartment, breathless, feeble, barely able to walk and choking out petal after petal.
Was his last view of the sky? The taste of fresh air for one last time, one last breath as he succumbed to the petals, becoming a vessel for their growth?
Rinne slowly got up, shuffling over to the kitchen. He picked up a glass, pouring in some water. His mouth was parched, the taste of dried blood and withered petals stuck permanently on his taste buds.
He gulped the water, it sliding down heavily, rinsing his mouth a little. He shuffled back over to the couch, setting the cup on top of a stack of papers on the old coffee table.
The weight of the cup shifted some of the papers, a small red envelope sticking out.
An envelope…Niki had written many letters that Rinne had handed to Himeru and Kohaku to give out when they last came over. He probably missed this one.
He slowly leaned over and grabbed it, freezing upon seeing the name that was written.
In small, shaky handwriting, in the middle of the red envelope. Rinne-kun.
Rinne was there to help Niki write most of the letters, save for a few. He never saw Niki write one for him.
With shaky hands, he slowly opened the envelope, sliding a small slip of paper out.
There's a dried honeysuckle petal, stuck onto it with a splatter of blood. Written underneath, in small, shaky handwriting are 5 words.
I’m sorry.
I love you .
Rinne feels all the tears he had held back for the past month burst forward, everything coming out as he breaks down, shattering into many broken pieces, never to be whole again.