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When the first wave of pain in Tenko’s chest came, it was strong enough to make her stumble in the middle of the hallway and take a sharp gasp for breath.
While she had never had a high tolerance for pain, normally she could grit her teeth and push on regardless. Neo-Aikido had made her strong, resilient, and confident in herself. She rarely lost her footing like this even in the worst of situations.
That is to say, something had to be seriously wrong. So naturally, her first instinct was to keep it from Himiko at all costs.
Though the mage was almost constantly at her side, she normally spent her time napping, spacing out, or otherwise avoiding Tenko’s presence. Her attention was fleeting even on the rare occasions when it was caught at all. Even the teachers had seemingly given up on trying to keep her from falling asleep in the middle of class. In theory, keeping a problem from Himiko would be child’s play.
However, plans rarely worked out the way they did in theory.
At one point, her classmate, Miu, had asked her why she kept following Himiko around even when the attention wasn’t returned or apparently even noticed. “You’re like a fucksick puppy” were the exact words she had used — Tenko tried her best to forget that comment, to no avail.
Sometimes, Tenko questioned that herself. She’d lay awake on many occasions, questioning if there was even a point to her pursuits, but she always came to the same conclusion: Miu was simply wrong. Himiko did notice things, and it was evident in everything she did. It was in the way she sometimes mumbled responses to what Tenko talked about even when she didn’t seem to be paying actual attention, and in the way she was always eager to show off her magic on the occasions when she was asked.
And unfortunately, it was in the way she was watching at the precise moment when Tenko stumbled as stabbing pain crawled up her lungs.
She was just managing to get her breath under control, doing her best to keep her hands firmly at her side instead of clutching at her chest, when the sleepy, monotone mumble she’d practically memorized made itself known from behind her.
“Y’okay?” It asked, and Tenko felt her blood turn to ice as she spun around to face her. This was the absolute worst time for her to be here…
She cleared her throat, partially to try and cover up her embarrassment over being seen in a moment of brief weakness and partially in yet another fruitless attempt to get rid of the ridiculous tickle in her throat that had been plaguing her for weeks now. She’d thought nothing of it; spring was approaching, and with it, the obnoxious allergies that plagued her every year. But now, she began to wonder…
“Of course! Just a little sore. I trained harder than usual yesterday!” Tenko shrugged, then stretched to demonstrate that it was really no big deal. The lie slipped out so easily, she might as well have been Kokichi.
And yet Himiko still didn’t seem entirely convinced. Tenko felt her gaze linger just a little too long and a little too intensely for her comfort, and her lips parted as if she wanted to say something. However, they quickly closed again as she discarded whatever response she had in mind.
For once, she hoped that her friend would simply move onto something else like normal. Thankfully, timing seemed to have an apology for her, because they reached the school’s exit just in time for her to end the conversation herself. “Gotta go! See you tomorrow! Have a nice weekend, bye!”
The moment she turned the corner and was out of Himiko’s line of sight, another wave of agony hit Tenko straight in the chest, like a knife had embedded itself deep within her and was twisting cruelly through her body. The tickle in her throat came again, but stronger this time, as if something was actively in her throat and blocking her airway.
She felt panic shoot through her as her body threw her into a coughing fit so strong she was forced to stop walking. It felt like she was choking, trying desperately to get whatever was stuck in her throat out and failing. For a moment, she tried to remember anything she could about how to perform the Heimlich maneuver on yourself.
Then the mystery object was finally dislodged. She spat it out into her hand, cringing at the metallic taste filling her mouth. That can’t be good…
In her palm lay a clump of small, white petals, smeared with deep crimson. She couldn’t quite identify what kind exactly they were, but she knew enough to be sure that this was not good in the slightest.
Like everyone, she’d heard the horror stories of Hanahaki, the unrequited love disease. It was precisely the kind of topic to pop up in gossip from time to time. Everyone heard of a friend of a friend’s friend who had caught it at some point. But it was something that you heard about happening to other people, never to you.
Evidently, Tenko wasn’t quite that lucky.
She stared in abject horror at the petals in her hand, allowing herself a few moments to let the reality of her situation sink in before forming a plan.
Swiping the petals off of her hand and letting them fall to the ground, she wiped the blood off of her palms, shuddering. The pain in her chest had subsided, replaced with a lesser ache that refused to fade. She kicked dirt over the petals. If anyone saw them, it might cause a scene. On the bright side, no one had spotted her actively coughing them up. At least, she hadn’t caught anyone watching.
All she could do was keep walking and act like nothing had happened. It was harder than it looked. Her legs shook like leaves in the wind; it was hard to imagine them holding her up for much longer. And despite her attempts to keep a straight, confident face, she knew she wasn’t doing a good job of it. She was never good at hiding strong emotion, especially during a crisis.
She was, however, good at making decisions and sticking with them. Her position remained the same even now: Himiko couldn’t know.
Tenko was impulsive, but she was smarter than most thought. She knew exactly who her unrequited feelings were for, and she knew exactly what it meant for her if she didn’t at least try to confess her feelings. Either she died a horrible death choking on flowers or she spent thousands of dollars on a surgery and lost all memories of the girl she’d spent so much time dreaming about, along with any chance of loving romantically again.
But Tenko loved Himiko. And because she loved Himiko, she knew just how cruel it was to let her bear the weight of her life on her shoulders. Love wasn’t leaving someone with the knowledge that if they had just had feelings for another, things could have been different. Hell, even if her love was reciprocated, she couldn’t put that kind of burden on Himiko.
So she balanced on the teetering tightrope of life. And if she lost her balance, so be it. At least Himiko wouldn’t have to watch her fall.
Quickly, she realized that thinking about Himiko wasn’t the best plan of action. Her airway began to clog up again, and she had to pause so she could choke up another mouthful of bloodied petals, wincing as they rubbed against her raw throat on the way out.
Spitting out the petals and blood that clung stubbornly to the walls of her mouth, she cursed under her breath. Fate, karma, God, Atua — every possible influence got its own little section of curses, until she was sure people of every major and minor religion she knew of would be absolutely horrified with her.
Good. In situations like this, those with control needed to be reprimanded.
By the time she returned to her dorm, she was exhausted and had spent all the words she could conjure to mind. It was all she could do to stumble to bed and lie down, not even bothering to pull the covers over herself.
She could tell that, for once, sleep wouldn’t come for her quickly. Her lungs were still burning with the effort of her attempts to reject the blooms inside her, and though unconsciousness dragged at her like a river’s current, she was still yanked away by anxiety and pain from time to time. The only thing that worked in her favor at the moment was that the coughing fits had seemingly stopped for the time being.
Nearly an hour had passed before she finally managed to enter a fitful sleep. Bloodied petals haunted her dreams, and she awoke multiple times to find that she was still just as exhausted as when she last drifted off. She was beginning to dread the thought of spring coming…
It took a month for anyone to suspect anything.
While Tenko liked to think that she was simply that good at acting, logically she knew that it was largely due to school stress. The second half of the school year had been hectic so far. Teachers seemed to be making it their personal challenge to pile on as much work as possible, and many were falling behind. Between overall stress and desperate attempts to get as much work done in class as possible, there simply wasn’t enough time to focus on much else.
The first person to notice was Kokichi, funnily enough. Tenko was early to class for once, struggling to focus on homework through the persistent ache in her lungs. She hadn’t quite gotten used to the pain, but the monotony of it dulled its edge like a piece of wood weathered by time.
Without warning, warm breath tickled the side of her face and a voice murmured in her ear. “Hey, how you doin, lil mama, lemme whisper in your ear-”
She automatically threw back her arm, backhanding the encroacher directly in the face. The resulting yelp confirmed who it was, and she whipped around to glare at the Ultimate Supreme Leader, who bitterly rubbed his cheek and muttered about meme references or something of the sort — not that she was listening. Stupid, foul, degenerate male-
Within moments, however, he recovered — unfortunately — and faced her with his biggest shit-eating grin. “Getting a little slow there, eh, Chabashira? Weaker than usual, too! Normally you’d fight me off before I could get anywhere near that close!”
Tenko glowered at him with as much menace as she could muster, only to be completely ignored by her foe.
He continued with clearly-exaggerated disbelief, “Or maybe… could it be? Could dear Chabashira actually be warming up to me after all? Me, of all people? Oh, it’s just too much! I’m overcome with-”
“Nyeh… You’re being too loud…” Himiko mumbled. She placed her tiny hands over her ears to muffle the sound, and Tenko fought the urge to speak up for the sake of her crush’s peace. The little mage was just too sweet to disturb…
Oh, no.
Feeling the telltale tickle of petals in her throat, Tenko froze. The twisting pains in her lungs were beginning; it wouldn’t be long before she found herself coughing up petals again. She’d gotten used to the cycle by now; the problem was dispelling others’ worries for long enough to buy herself some time.
She huffed and stood up, as if the only problem was her being done with Kokichi’s determination to be an annoyance. “Be right back,” she mumbled under her breath as well as she could while flowers continued to fill her airway. For the most part, she was talking to Himiko, though it was useful to notify everyone.
Himiko’s stare burned into the back of Tenko’s neck. Its heat was unbearably suffocating. Perhaps she knew something was wrong, or maybe she was just curious about the sudden exit. Either way, fueled by nerves, Tenko hurried out the door. She can’t know, she can’t know, she can’t know…
Early on, she’d realized that to simply start coughing up petals in public was to risk exposing her secret to everyone, so she began attempting to hide where it would be difficult to follow her. Bathroom stalls, her dorm, at one point the roof… it all depended on what was closest. This time, Tenko made it out the door, around the corner, and halfway down the hallway leading to the bathroom before the coughing fit started. She tripped over her own feet as she persisted in her efforts to reach the restroom before she had to spit out the flowers.
But today it seemed luck wasn’t on her side. Her legs buckled beneath her and she crumpled to the ground, hacking so hard she was almost surprised her lungs didn’t come up with the petals.
There were more of them this time; being so small, the snowy petals already came up in clumps, but by the time Tenko managed to catch a full breath, they formed a pile big enough to fill her palm. The blood smears were much more noticeable, and when she wiped her mouth, her hand came away stained with a dark streak of scarlet.
She was so preoccupied with trying to recover and catch her breath that she didn’t notice the echo of footsteps rushing down the hallway towards her until two figures were descending upon her. Her eyes watered, blurring her vision and making it hard to tell exactly who the new arrivals were until they were only a few feet away.
Of course degenerate males would be nosy.
Kokichi leaned over her, his face twisted into a knowing yet unreadable smile that made Tenko want to break his teeth. If it weren’t for her current condition, she would have been more than happy to grab his wrist and throw him onto the tile. Alas, she lacked the energy required for such a thing, so the best she could do was clench her fists and imagine it.
Shuichi hovered nearby, giving Tenko far more space than his companion had even bothered to consider. For a boy, she considered him to be surprisingly decent. He kept to himself and respected her wishes for him to keep his distance, which was more than she could say for Kokichi even on the best of days.
For once, the detective was the first of the group to speak, though not to her. “Kokichi, give her some space. I don’t think this is the time to get her riled up…” Then he looked over at her, though his muddy yellow-ish eyes changed courses to stare at the ground the moment they locked gazes. “Are you o- wait, no, that’s a horrible question, sorry. Um…”
Tenko stood up shakily, slumping against a locker when her legs shook and threatened to collapse under her again. Despite their shakiness, her hands slipped the petals into her sleeve to be concealed with the practiced ease that she’d developed over the past month. It wouldn’t fool Shuichi’s detective skill, nor Kokichi’s vast knowledge of lies and tells, but it was better than nothing. “It’s nothing a degenerate male needs to concern himself with. I don’t want your help.”
“But you neeeeed it!” Kokichi was just as energetic as ever, which was a little strange considering the situation, but at the very least, he moved away when Shuichi suggested it and wasn’t trying to touch her.
“No, I don’t! Especially not from a degenerate male.”
“Hmmm, maybe you’re right. Maybe we should just leave her here to choke and die. What do you think, Shuichi?”
“Of course not.” The taller boy gave a disapproving frown. “Tenko, how long has this been going on?”
She thought for a minute, attempting to do the math in her head, then stared at the ground as she answered, “About a month now.”
“Oh…” Shuichi’s whisper was nearly inaudible and presumably not intended to be said out loud. She could see the way his brain was working behind the calm mask of his face, trying to calculate how long she might possibly have left.
The silence that followed was heavy and thick, enough to make Shuichi squirm and Tenko consider walking away. She had to clean the blood off of her hands and face anyway, and dispose of the flowers. But she reluctantly threw the idea away for now when she heard Kokichi start to speak again.
“Sooooo, who’s the not-so-lucky gal who has to deal with all this?”
“Hopefully, she won’t.” Her voice dropped in volume, the words clogging in her throat like the flowers that would one day be her end. It was one thing to make a life-altering decision, one that would probably end in her own death; it was another to admit it out loud to someone else. “Because I’m not telling her.”
“You… what?” In her seventeen years of life, never did Tenko think she would be able to stump a detective, but Shuichi looked truly baffled. “But why? Won’t that just put you more at risk?”
She nodded. “I don’t want her to have to worry about it. She deserves to move on without worrying about me and my problems. Even if it means-”
“But you’ll die!” The detective’s face turned stone-like, and Tenko noticed his hand raise slightly to reach out to her, though he retracted it just as quickly. Good; she didn’t want to have to flip one of the few men she respected.
“Typical of a degenerate to interrupt…” Tenko muttered, earning a mumbled apology from Shuichi and an eye roll from Kokichi. “I know I’ll probably die, but it’s better than pressuring her. Besides…” Her voice quivered just for a moment, and she cleared her throat to try and cover it up, trying to ignore the rising tickle typical of the flowers in her throat. It’s going to happen again, isn’t it? She continued, “Besides, telling her might make things worse for both of us.”
“Then get the surgery!”
“Yeah, what my dearest darlingest Shuichi said! I mean, it’s not like she’ll remember you anyway! Might as well make it mutual!”
Tenko should have expected something bad; it was never good when Kokichi was quiet for as long as he had been. That usually meant he was saving up his brainpower to fire off a particularly hurtful insult. But this? This was jarring. Of course, the opinion of a degenerate was rarely worth considering, most of all Kokichi. So why did this bother her…?
Beyond the reaches of her mind, she heard Shuichi’s scolding voice, declaring the comment to be ‘uncalled for’, as well as Kokichi’s answering giggle, but she wasn’t really paying attention. She took a step back, then another, until she was backing away from the duo at a steady pace. Though she didn’t look back, she knew violet eyes lingered on hers, staring her down as she retreated.
By the time Shuichi noticed her walking away, she had turned her back on them, her speedwalk verging on a sprint. He called for her, but didn’t follow. Kokichi didn’t follow, either — a small blessing.
With her mind clogged with thoughts of forgetting and being forgotten, dying without so much as a thought from the one she thought of most, she retreated to her room. She paid no mind to the handful of petals that floated down onto the floor of the hallway.
The blackout curtains in her room were open, allowing the sun to shine its light on a tiny cactus on her windowsill — the only plant she could reliably keep alive, aside from the ones that had taken up residence in her lungs, of course. Ironic that the only time she seemed to be relatively competent at gardening was when she did it against her will. She pulled the heavy fabric until it was mostly closed, careful not to knock the little thorny plant off of its perch or deprive it of light. Her bed called to her, warm and comforting and yes, with pillows lightly stained by blood spatter, but that was easy to ignore.
The moment she climbed under the sheets, her body was wracked by another bout of coughing. She’d grown far too used to this for her taste, enough to recognize that something was off this time. The sensation of choking was much, much more prominent this time, and felt like her chest was being ripped apart with the effort it took to get anything up. Something larger fell into her hand this time, then another; she had only a few seconds to gasp desperately for air before her stomach lurched and she vomited clumps of petals onto her comforter.
Eventually, she recovered the clarity of mind to judge her situation. In her hand lay two full flowerheads, small and white with yellow centers, stained with the same shade of red she’d seen too much of lately. They were recognizable as daisies now, which didn’t do much for her, but it was good to know, at least.
The mess of petals on her lap was less remarkable. Of course, there were far more of them than she had been prepared for, but that was a trivial matter. She’d forced herself to swallow the petals before, to ignore their strange, bitter taste and hope that they wouldn’t turn out to be poisonous.
If only it didn’t mean that she was getting worse. She had less time, meaning that there wouldn’t be time to spend with Himiko…
An idea clicked in her head. Maybe that was how she’d get Himiko to remember her. She didn’t have a lot of time left; in the best of cases, Hanahaki took less than a year to kill. At worst, a month or two. While she didn’t know where exactly she fell on the spectrum, she didn’t want to take a chance. Could she at least strengthen their bond enough to be sure in the time she had left?
Doubt pricked her mind, making her hesitate to even begin planning. Come to think of it, wasn’t this counterproductive? If Himiko would miss her…
Or maybe not. She wouldn’t know the part she had in Tenko’s death, not if she could help it. What harm could it do to, at the very least, guarantee that someone she cared about remembered her when she was gone? Not as much as avoiding the love of her life, or letting her think she was being ignored when the sickness eventually began to claim her.
The dizzying, sinking feeling still occupied her mind. What if it failed, or if it was a bad idea in the first place? What then? But no, she had to stop thinking about this. Worrying would do her no good.
After all, when did something so simple as doubt ever stop Tenko Chabashira?
Tenko kept mostly to herself over the next few days. In classes, she only participated when needed, and she stayed quiet when she was around Himiko during breaks, which earned her a few odd looks from the mage but was ultimately accepted as the new order of things. The dull ache was worse now, and on more than one occasion she’d stepped out of class, not to cough up more flowers but just to let herself cry for a few moments.
Shuichi had reassured her that he wouldn’t tell anyone about her Hanahaki, and would make sure Kokichi didn’t either. Truth be told, she hadn’t considered this, but she was glad he had. She made a mental note to give him some grace the next time he acted in typical male fashion.
During most of her free time, she wandered over to Tsumugi’s lab, where the cosplayer was helping her work on a project. It was difficult to keep a secret from Tsumugi, especially one as big as her disease, but she convinced her to drop her questions in exchange for allowing her to ramble on about her beloved anime.
And now her efforts were finally coming to fruition. Tenko plopped down at her desk, exhaustion taking its toll on her. Somehow, she’d been convinced to stay up all night finishing the project, and was paying for it dearly. The flowers in her throat demanded her attention; she’d swallowed far more of the foul things than she cared to think about. She’d looked into it, and thankfully, they weren’t poisonous. In fact, they were edible, but she loathed the things too much to even consider willingly eating them.
Himiko dozed at her desk, softly snoring. Tenko had to fight the overwhelming need to coo at the sheer cuteness. Instead she forced more petals and blood down her throat and, with all the calmness she could muster, reached out and gently shook Himiko.
A little scarlet-haired head rose up, her snore interrupted and replaced with a “snrrk?” sound. Beautiful pale red eyes gazed at Tenko, sleep and confusion dulling them, making her expression have a soft look to it. “Hm?”
“I, uh…” Tenko found herself shifting and fidgeting. It was a struggle to keep her voice quiet. She was a loud talker, especially when she was nervous. But Himiko didn’t like noise, so if she was going to be close to her, she had to control her volume. “I made you something. Tsumugi helped a lot, but, uh…”
She dug around in her bag, moving some things out of the way in order to carefully take what she wanted out. Those stunning eyes still followed her movement, as if she was watching a sleight of hand trick that she wanted to master.
The blanket was thick and heavy, patterned with neat, fluffy, yellow and white stars on smooth red fabric. Tenko had been careful to take note of what sort of textures her crush seemed to like, and pick out fabric accordingly. She draped it over Himiko’s lap, watching her face for her reaction.
After spending so much time fawning over Himiko, Tenko had learned a few things. First, that the mage was incredibly bad at showing emotion visually, and second, how to differentiate between those emotions. She carefully watched the subtle shift from surprise, then confusion, then realization, and finally something almost like excitement.
Himiko adjusted the blanket, running her fingers over it, and seemingly decided it was satisfactory. A smile, more obvious than most of her expressions, crossed her face. “Wow, you made this? It’ll definitely help me restore my mana!”
“Wait until you see this.” Smiling, Tenko took the blanket and flipped it, exposing a smooth black underside. She put the blanket around Himiko’s shoulders, black side up, and fastened it around her neck with a metal button, forming a cloak.
The way Himiko looked at her, you’d think she’d been given the moon itself. Her fingers reached up and gently touched the button, then grabbed the edges of the cloak, swishing it experimentally. “I think I could perform just about any spell with this on…”
Tenko smiled, feeling her grin slightly falter when more stabs of pain, even worse this time, jabbed at her chest. Her Hanahaki had never hit her this bad before, like her lungs were being stabbed full of holes, ripped out of her body, and set ablaze all at the same time. She tried to hide how she cleared her throat and tucked the bloody petals against her cheek as she responded. “So you like it?”
She forced a full flower head back down her throat, even managing to identify a leafy stem brushing up against her airway as Himiko responded, “Mhm. Lots of magic power in this thing, I can feel it.”
“Yeah. Well, uh… You’re welcome.” She wasn’t even sure she’d been thanked, but that was a small detail and she was too busy trying to prevent herself from gagging on petals to notice small details.
Himiko just nodded and pulled the cloak tighter around herself, rubbing her face against the inside. The choice of fabric had been a good one. Tenko watched, satisfied, as the mage snuggled up in it and settled down for a nap.
Maybe, despite all of Tenko’s doubts, they could be friends. When the flowers that shaded her lungs darkened her life, maybe Himiko could be her last light. Maybe the end wouldn’t be so bad after all. After all, her beloved was here . And even though her feelings weren’t returned — she knew almost for certain by now that they wouldn’t be — just to have her here at her side was a privilege beyond compare.
Tenko awoke in her dorm with sweat drenching her body, a bitter taste rising in the back of her throat, and Himiko’s head on her chest. She could have focused on how she couldn’t breathe, or the ever-present pain, which was only growing sharper, or the metallic taste in her mouth. But for once, just this once, she allowed herself instead to think of Himiko. The weight of her on her torso, the gentle warm breath breezing across her collarbone, the way her scarlet hair fell just so across her cheek, the way her eyelashes fluttered slightly even when sleeping…
Himiko was angelic. She was holy, the altar to which she prayed and the deity to which the altar was devoted all at once; she was life itself.
They’d gotten closer during the past few months. It had started with simple conversations in the hallway, chatting about the cloak, magic, aikido, whatever they could think of. Then they’d begun to hang out — Tenko had found that the mage typically preferred to simply be in the presence of others while doing nothing, which, while normally boring, was enjoyable as long as they were together.
Before she knew it, Himiko ended up fast asleep against her, peaceful and sweet as ever.
And Tenko was choking.
So maybe forcing herself to inhale those flowers in favor of admiring her crush wasn’t the best idea.
She did her best to roll her beloved mage off of her without waking her; she didn’t spare the time to make sure she wasn’t disturbed. Then all that was on her mind was the desperate stumble for the bathroom. She coughed a few times, but nothing came up. Not petals, nor flowers, blood, or even air escaped her throat.
The tile floor of the dorm bathroom rushed to meet her knees, and she dragged herself over to the toilet, coughing violently. Agony overwhelmed her; tears stung her eyes, blurring her vision. Her head spun from the lack of oxygen, as if she’d gone underwater for too long.
She steeled herself, desperate to get some air in her lungs, and stuck her fingers in her mouth. Her own coughs and gags made it difficult to accomplish, but eventually she managed to grab hold of a flowerhead and claw it out of her windpipe.
With that out of the way, she only started coughing and retching harder. Daisies spilled out of her mouth, along with streams of blood that stained the pristine petals with crimson. Leaves and stems were tossed into the mix now, and in Tenko’s hand lay a near-complete plant, save for the roots — that was probably why she struggled to cough it up.
She went limp, leaning against the wall. Her body thankfully granted her a few moments to gasp for air and take in what had just happened, but they were over far too quickly, and soon she was tossed into the unyielding grip of yet another coughing fit.
Then, without warning, a hand rested on her back and her body went rigid.
An all too familiar voice rang in Tenko’s ear, cutting through her fear and reminding her who this was all for.
“It’ll be okay, I’ll use some of my mana for a healing spell.”
The slightest flecks of fear crept their way into Himiko’s voice, which meant she was completely and utterly petrified. Still, when she wormed her way into Tenko’s arms and started murmuring what were presumably the words to a magic spell, somehow the world felt so much calmer. It was as if the pain had dulled simply with her voice and her touch.
Himiko didn’t seem to think so. The coughing fit only intensified, more and more flowers falling from Tenko’s mouth, and with it the mage only grew more panicked. “It isn’t working… why isn’t it working…?”
Eventually, the spluttering slowed to a stop, and she shuddered as she spat out one last mouthful of petals and blood. Her arms weakly looped around her friend. “Shh, shh, no, it’s fine…” Her voice was croaky and weak, scraping her raw throat like sandpaper. “‘S just-”
“Who’s it for?” Himiko trembled, tears filling her eyes, and for just a moment Tenko wanted to tell her everything. She had to tell her. It seemed unfair not to, as her best friend’s voice pleaded again, “Tell me who it’s for, Tenko, we can figure this out! We can save you, just tell me!”
But what if she couldn’t?
Himiko didn’t love her, which meant it was even more unfair for her to know what was going on. She didn’t deserve to think it was her fault, not when she couldn’t do anything about the outcome. Tenko couldn’t do that to her.
So she steeled herself to withstand her love’s tears, wiping them away with a shaky, bloodstained hand. “No.”
“Why? Why are you d-doing this?” Himiko seemed to be having trouble speaking now, clutching at Tenko’s shirt. Her voice seemed to grow higher pitched when she became especially panicked, a fact Tenko wished she’d never learned and especially not now. “You’ll d-die!”
“I know. But I-” She coughed, spitting out a daisy head into her hand. “I don’t want them to blame themself. They shouldn’t have to think about… about this.”
Her friend’s forehead, brow scrunched up with worry, was inches away from Tenko’s lips, close enough to press them against it and kiss her worries away. But she had more self control than that, so she simply rested her chin against it as she willed for the overwhelming dizziness to fade.
“I don’t want you to die,” Himiko’s small, plaintive voice whimpered.
What could she say to that? She couldn’t promise she wouldn’t, because that was just untrue; she couldn’t say that it was just something they had to deal with, because what would that do? She settled for gently patting Himiko’s back, shushing her as she slowly turned into a mess of sobs once again. After all, what else could she do but try to comfort her beloved, even if she knew she’d have to leave her?
The days stretched longer than ever now, not that Tenko had many opportunities to notice it. Most of her time was spent holed up in her room, coughing up petals and sleeping the day away; the only indications that time had passed at all were the clock on her phone and the rising and setting of the sun.
And Himiko’s visits, of course.
Twice a day every day, she’d visit Tenko’s dorm to bring her food. Eventually, Tenko just gave her the spare key — it wasn’t like she had much of a use for it anyway, considering she rarely even left her dorm anymore. Normally they’d just talk, with Himiko sometimes cleaning up the mess of blood and petals that her friend left everywhere; she’d tried to clean it up herself a few times, but her efforts always ended within a few minutes, somehow with a bigger mess than she’d started with.
She’d denied all other visitors; she didn’t want most of them to know, and there was absolutely no way she was going to let Kokichi and Shuichi see how pathetic she’d become. And yet she was so desperate to have something other than her thoughts to keep her company, but there was only Himiko, who fueled the flowers in her lungs and who Tenko would never, ever stop loving. And she was more than okay with that.
Today, the agenda seemed to consist of cuddling; Tenko had been a little surprised when Himiko walked in and immediately burrowed under the covers with her, but she didn’t complain. After all, who could complain about cuddles with the girl of one’s dreams?
She was pretty sure her mage friend was asleep now, curled up against her side with a perfect, faint smile on her face. Somehow, every little quirk and imperfection Tenko noticed made her love her more. Himiko tended to sway as if she were about to fall over, especially when she was tired. She drooled when she slept particularly deeply and constantly fidgeted with her fingers when she was awake, as if she were doing a card trick with invisible cards. Her hat always seemed to be a little bit askew.
With the rising wave of adoration came a sensation just as familiar but not nearly as welcome. Stifling a whimper, Tenko held her breath to keep from coughing as her chest filled with unrivaled agony. It only worsened the pain, but the need to keep from waking Himiko up was even stronger. Tears stung her eyes and turned her vision blurry with the effort of keeping quiet.
She needed it to stop, and she was so desperate to breathe without choking on petals or feeling like her lungs would explode that she would have taken any cost in order to make it stop. Her hand reached to shake Himiko and wake her up — to tell her, or maybe beg her to help her to the hospital, or something .
But Himiko was already awake, telling her to breathe and hold on and maybe something else that Tenko wasn’t registering because she wasn’t, in fact, breathing and holding on. The only thing she was managing to do was struggle for breath and stare pleadingly into those beautiful eyes.
Suddenly she couldn’t help but cough more, only growing more overwhelmed at the sensation of horrid, thick blood running down her face. She knew the feeling well by now, but never quite to this extent. Though the passing thought of death had taunted her, now the stone cold certainty of it weighed like concrete armor on her shoulders. She couldn’t run from it now; it was too late for her to tell herself that she would consider the topic later.
Yet there was still a sense of defiance, set firmly in her chest. Something deep inside of her still chanted, Not yet. I’m not ready yet. I have so much left to do. Maybe it was willpower, maybe it was just sheer instinct, but something kept her coughing and gasping and fighting to survive. Something pulled her up to prop herself against her headboard. It forced her to keep gasping for air in between desperate attempts to get the stupid flowers out of her lungs for good.
If she was going to die, she wanted it to happen on her terms. And maybe that was what she was always attempting, what with her refusal to say anything, but she didn’t want it to happen now. She still had days like this to look forward to, days spent with friends in the sun or maybe just cooped up in her room snuggled under fuzzy blankets.
Life was beautiful, and Himiko was beautiful, and Tenko wanted more of it all. She wanted so much more, but she wasn’t sure how far she’d go to get it anymore. Would she get the surgery, and lose all her memories of the very person she adored so much?
The way Himiko was reacting, she wasn’t sure if she’d have much choice in the matter, considering how little of an ability she had to argue with her. She was saying something, but evidently her brain didn’t want to translate sound into anything she could understand at the moment (and she could hardly hear anything over the sound of her own coughing), so all she was left with was the guess that whatever was being said was important.
If she was being entirely honest, she was starting to care less and less about what was actually going on in the first place. The more she fought for air, the more tempting it was to just give up and fall back asleep. She could practically feel her energy being sapped away with every gasp or cough, and she was unbelievably tired… All she wanted was to drift off and be rid of all of this…
Far off in the distance, Himiko’s voice could be heard, not talking to her but instead on the phone. Was she calling for help? Maybe an ambulance would come. Tenko was honestly dreading it; the wailing sirens would keep her from being able to fall asleep. Or maybe they wouldn’t. She didn’t know. She was just… so…
There were too many people talking at once. Tenko didn’t bother to count the exact number of voices, of course — her mind was too foggy to even think of such a thing — but however many it was, it was too many for her comfort. Everything felt blurred together, like watercolors brushed carelessly across a canvas, and she hated it.
One voice emerged from the fog, monotone and soft. Himiko. Desperately, she tried to drag herself from the deep sea of semi-consciousness to meet her. Her eyes fluttered open, and she caught a glimpse of at least three different faces peering over her. None of them were the one she was looking for (though they were certainly saying a lot of… something; her brain wasn’t in the mood to try and decipher it yet), but the moment she turned her head to the side, she was greeted with an angelic face inches from her own. Warm arms encircled her waist; a torso pressed against hers.
“Himiko…” Her voice was croaky, as if thorns had scraped her throat, not mere daisies.
They stayed cuddled against each other for a few moments, but Tenko struggled to split her attention between the love of her life and the ever-increasing need to focus on breathing in, then out, then in again.
Himiko sat up, despite the jagged whine that emerged from Tenko’s scratched-up windpipe as the warmth left her. “Tenko…”
“Don’t say it.” It hurt, but the words had to be said. She couldn’t say more; she spluttered and coughed up a handful of petals.
“Just say it. It’s not like you’re telling them…” Oh, if only she knew. Her voice built in volume and intensity as she continued, “I won’t blame them if they don’t love you! I won’t be mad, just tell me- ”
Tears started to trickle down Himiko’s cheeks. To see her in such distress brought more pain than the illness could ever give her, and for the millionth time Tenko was tempted to bring the girl into her arms, whisper that it would be okay now, that she loved her and she always would, and that if telling her led to her own death, then she’d face it with open arms, because Himiko deserved to be loved no matter what.
Breathe, Tenko, breathe. She couldn’t say that, dammit. Himiko would blame herself until the day she died. For Tenko to receive her peace meant to deny Himiko the same. “No...”
It was a struggle to keep her voice calm and firm. She was only human: death-fearing, scared, fragile, and certainly not built to house a colony of daisies in her lungs. Breathe. Cough out more daisies. Breathe.
She was dizzy. Her brain hardly registered Himiko nuzzling her face into her neck, wailing something she didn’t quite listen to. Unconsciousness tempted her, taunting her as blurriness fell over her vision. C’mon, breathe, I know it’s hard, but breathe, please. Was this the end? Lying in some unfamiliar hospital bed, people lingering over her with Himiko being the only comfort at her side?
Another coughing fit, another wave of petals, flowers, stems, blood. Everything hurt. It was too much now, clogging her windpipe completely and filling her mouth and nose with bitter and metallic. Himiko was shouting now, making her head pound and spin.
Breathe. The fluorescent lights above her hummed and flickered.
Breathe. Flashes of her life sped through her mind.
Breathe. Her parents ask her master to take care of her and train her to deal with her hyperactivity.
Breathe. Hundreds upon hundreds of Neo-Aikido moves, nonstop work and practice for years.
Breathe. A letter, a new school, a title: Ultimate Aikido Master.
Breathe. Himiko, Himiko, Himiko, Himiko, Himiko. Napping in her seat, beaming at her with her new cape fastened around her neck, snuggled at her side.
Breathe. Himiko. She was shrieking something now, something that just barely managed to break through the stupor that was threatening to take over her entire being as she choked and fought for her life. “Don’t go! You can’t go, Tenko, I love you! I love you too much!”
Goddammit, breathe!
She was suddenly aware of the figures standing above her — nurses, possibly — who had their hands in her mouth, trying to clear her airway. Tears ran down her cheeks from the force of her coughing, and she couldn’t even fully process the sheer agony flooding her entire being.
In between fits of coughing, she found herself catching little snatches of breath around the hands attempting to drag the plants out of her throat. Her throat burned like she’d swallowed hot coals, but at the same time she couldn’t stop desperately searching for more opportunities to gasp for air. Himiko… she had to stay alive for Himiko… why again?
Because Himiko loved her.
The realization only just loaded in her brain, hitting her like a truck and sending another wave of coughs and retching through her. She spat out another bitter clump of flowers, staring at the trailing roots attached to the end of the stem. Was it… finally over?
Himiko’s soft gasp confirmed what Tenko already knew. Roots — the final stage of Hanahaki, the one only seen if the feelings were returned. Few were lucky enough to actually see it happen. It meant healing, safety, and a future.
With the most energy that the little mage had ever displayed, she barreled into Tenko, aggressively nuzzling against her. “Tenko… Tenko, Tenko, Tenko…”
Her whispers were soft, relieved, and so beautiful. They were pure bliss, and Tenko couldn’t help but bury her face in her soft cloak despite the danger of staining it with blood. It smelled like her now, sweet with a distinct note of lavender — Himiko found the smell comforting and it kept headaches away, so she often put drops of lavender oil on her belongings.
The nurses were saying something about the recovery process, and how it would be slow and difficult, but Tenko was hardly listening. Between the bouts of coughing, she was focusing on Himiko and Himiko alone. Her beloved, her savior, her life and death. She was right there by her side, and she loved her.
But when she lifted her head to look at Himiko, she was looking away absently. There was something heavy about her mostly-blank look. “Something wrong?”
“Sorry… I didn’t want you going through that…” It was only now that Tenko registered the slight quake in Himiko’s voice, the way her shoulders slumped as if weighed down. Or maybe she’d noticed it all along and was simply justifying it in her mind as worry or exhaustion.
“No! It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.” She gathered Himiko in her arms, holding her close and allowing her to rest her head against her shoulder.
“But if you hadn’t fallen in love with me, you wouldn’t have… you wouldn’t have…” Tears were starting to form in Himiko’s eyes, shocking Tenko to the core. It took a lot to make Himiko cry; emotion in general was difficult to draw out of her. How could she comfort her now?
She gently reached over to wipe the first tears as they rolled down her friend’s cheeks. “The only way this could’ve been avoided is if you didn’t exist. And lemme tell you, I’d rather have Hanahaki. The idea of not having you in my life scares me.”
Droplets cascaded like rain down Himiko’s face, quick and numerous enough that Tenko couldn’t manage to wipe them away in time in her exhausted state. Her hands quivered, refusing to respond with the speed that they normally reached with ease, but still she thumbed away the salty trails, and with them, the leftover traces of fear and grief that clouded her beloved’s expression.
Everything would be okay. She’d make sure of it. The ache in her chest was slowly fading and she could live and, most of all, Himiko loved her. Despite all her unworthiness and everything she’d put her through, she was loved by the most wonderful person in the universe.
And nothing, whether it be flowers or death or hell itself, would ever separate them.