Archive of Our Own

Much to Aki’s amusement, he found himself dumbfounded for once, as he woke up to a certain dread filling his empty stomach from the night of drinking before up, and since then had noticed flowers were spread all over his bedsheets. 

He sighs loudly before he even manages to get up, falling back down onto the bed instantly. It was far too early, he was far too tired. Surely he must still be drunk, surely he must’ve accidentally gotten high, and surely he had to be hallucinating things. He’s not worried about him accidentally having gotten high, because he feels far too dazed for worrying this early in the morning. He struggles with registering really anything, so what good does it have? He doesn’t know, so he doesn’t bother. 

Still, his body feels restless, his throat feels sore. His stomach is a curling mess, his airways feeling tight and strained, perhaps from speaking too loudly over the music at the bar. He didn’t even have a bad habit of doing so whenever he went drinking with his colleagues. His throat usually felt sore the day after anyway, no talking needed. He could tell this hangover was bad, and as the realisation slowly started sinking in, all he could do was lay down and rest within his own annoyance. 

As he let his mind wander, gazing up at the ceiling, his head foggy and his thoughts screwed entirely, he begins to feel a headache, the typical one that somehow magically reappears every time Aki was hungover. It was a pain and a pity, and Aki could really use a painkiller, but the only way to get a hold of those was to wake up and confront the sights before him once more. 

He takes a deep breath, then a few more breaths and silent minutes before he eventually sucks up the courage, and sits upright in his bed. He runs a hand through his hair, which is messy and down, sweat dripping out of every pore of his body. Much to his surprise (and dread) the flower petals are still there right in front of him scattered around his bed almost like a warrant, a sign or a threat.

He rubs his eyes, before holding his head within his hands, in an attempt to lessen the headache. When he opens his eyes again, and the petals are still there, he exhales rapidly, before he frantically picks one up. 

The texture was undeniably that of a flower petal. It was warm in between his fingers, and when he held them in his palm, he felt the warmth on those as well. Within mere seconds he noticed that the petals weren’t clean either - they were entirely stained with pure crimson red blood, which paints Aki’s fingertips with every touch. The blood is closer to maroon the more he gazes upon the flowers, the colours making his head twist and turn like a washing machine.

At this, it’s as if something snaps, as if something is triggered by a wider chain reaction, and from that pure shock, Aki begins to cough - clearly not for the first time. 

And that’s where Aki feels like he just might faint. 

He barely manages to make it in time, but somehow his hand makes its way up to his mouth, catching the petals as they fall like leaves from the pits of Aki’s already damaged lungs. The sight makes his eyes widen, as they begin to tear, and he gasps for air. His hands shake, the petals falling off as his heartbeat rises, only to drop and then explode once more within his body.

What the fuck had Aki been doing the night before? Drinking, yes, but what else could possibly be the reason for this hallucination? He hadn’t gotten that drunk, he hadn’t even passed out at the table once! 

He recalls the night before in pictures. Where had he been? Who had he been sitting next to? Angel! Angel, right. He remembers now. He’d been sitting next to Angel, who’d also been invited by Kishibe and Makima. Across from them Kobeni had sat - yes, that’s right! Then what? 

The two had been together for the entire evening, laughing in a drunken daze, sharing drinks and talking, having to remind themselves constantly not to wrap their arms around one another. 

For once, Aki hadn’t debated his own humanity or his hatred towards the devil making him so tender-hearted, that he wished for them to touch. And perhaps him letting his guard and pride down, even for just one night, was the greatest and grandest mistake of them all.

For the entire night, Aki had been trying to impress Angel, for God knows whatever reason. Had it been the alcohol? Aki wanting to perhaps show off just how quick he was to chug an entire beer?

He remembers the laughing, how Angel’s eyes had opened in amusement and fascination, how they’d both laughed so hard until their ribs began to hurt. How Aki had raised his voice, making sure Angel could hear every word coming from his mouth.

Ah, shit. Aki had totally strained his vocal cords last night from trying to impress Angel. 

Aki wasn’t much of a talker or a party person, and he definitely wasn’t the type to show off to impress his colleagues through jokes and banters or anything like drinking contests or-

The realisation that this wasn’t a hungover hallucination, or something terrible on top of his already increasing headache and nausea hits him hard, first within little waves, eventually washing over him entirely. 

The pure thought was enough for Aki to feel short of breath, a panic spreading all throughout his body, eventually turning on him and eating him whole.

Fuck.

And that’s when Aki actually faints.

Aki spends the rest of the day in bed, much to his dismay. Aki was the only responsible one in this household after all, the only one who could cook, clean and control his murderous tendencies (from time to time).

When he had woken up, he’d somehow managed to choke back a new cough of flowers, which only worsened his headache. He gives up on the idea of being productive for the day. His dread and current depression was far too strong and intense for him to face reality. 

Whatever bad case this was, Aki found himself still to be in a state of denial. If this was truly what he suspected, surely he must’ve caught unwanted feelings for someone else. 

If this was the early and mild state, Aki just might die before the sun went down and midnight approached.

Thank goodness it was Saturday. He had the entire weekend to recover, to clear his head and come to his senses. Though he knew this was no laughing matter, he’d prefer neglecting it just a little bit more.

"Denji!" Aki calls out, hoping the devil would hear him. When there’s no response, he calls out again, his body far too fragile to move or leave the room. "Denji!"

No response. God damn it. Knowing the two, they’d probably sneaked into his room while he was passed out, and had sneaked out with his wallet. Typical, how typical-

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

The wallet was the least of his concerns right now, as he was quite literally coughing flower petals. He comes to terms with the fact that the two had most definitely sneaked out with his wallet. Acceptance would come later. This was just not his day.

If they had sneaked in here, they must’ve surely noticed his fragile state, they must’ve noticed the flowers. Perhaps they were so inhumane that they didn’t know of the disease, especially Denji who hadn’t even known what fiends were before meeting Aki. 

Under no circumstances would Aki let that slide. Under no circumstances must anyone know of this. No one, not even his housemates, surely not his colleagues either, and under no circumstances should-

Aki sighs once more.

God fucking damn it.

Aki felt like throwing up from the pure thought of him potentially feeling… that type of way about a devil. It couldn’t be, as in there was no way. 

This was too much, this was all far too much. 

The pit in his stomach grows stronger, as he sits up straight at the sudden stinging pain. The flowers fall from his mouth, his deepened coughs and screams of dread escaping every second, as he vomits them all up only to find himself choking on his own blood and tears, which have begun to stream down from his face. 

Aki wasn’t embarrassed about crying. He was an emotional boy, an emotional and humane individual. If anything he praised himself for allowing himself to cry every now and then whenever he’d gotten attached to a buddy or whenever he found himself mourning or missing his late family. 

But this time, Aki couldn’t help himself. Neither could he forgive himself.

Oh, how fragile, how weak he had to be for crying over something so stupid, something so disgusting and inhumane as his entire ideology becoming vain, because of unrequited feelings for a devil.

Aki wasn’t crying because of Angel, and Aki wasn’t crying because of his feelings. Aki was crying because Angel made him feel this way, he was crying because he’d allowed himself to feel this type of way about the wrong person. He downright resented his own weakness and humanity for allowing himself to fall for something as vile as a devil.

Even if it was out of his control and he truly couldn’t change or help it, Aki found himself disgusting, brainwashed and weak. 

After all he’d ever done, everything he’d ever fought for - still, he found himself crying over a devil, pouring out his whole bleeding heart in solitude behind the four walls of his room.

With another cry, he hears the ticking of the clock. It was noon. The day had passed so fast in his clouded sickness, that it was already noon. And Aki was certain he’d be a sobbing wreck throughout the night as well.

They notice the worsened coughing rather quick. Both at home and at work.

It’s no mystery to any person that knows him, that Aki Hayakawa indeed was a chainsmoker. Everyone knew and nobody batted an eye initially. Aki’s health was terrible, concerning even. Yet, he wasn’t shy about his many great sacrifices or his approaching death. They knew he was running out of time - still, suspicious eyes began following him around between every little cough and run-off from meetings or casual conversations.

He was acting strange, and Angel was just as suspicious as anyone else.

They ended up running into each other after one of Aki’s frequent trips to Makima’s office. They hadn’t been on a proper patrol for a couple of days. Aki had tried calling in sick for work, which had worked the first Monday and Tuesday. However, as soon as suspicions started rising, he became far too paranoid and stubborn to continue and admit to the condition. 

That’s how he’d ended up checking in with Makima, as he’d returned to work. How he’d ended up running into Angel for the first time since that night when the two had gotten drunk together.

"Hi." was all that escaped the shorter man, as he approached the other in the hallway. Aki holds back a surprised cough as he turns to meet the other.

"Shit, Angel, hi. You scared me senseless."

"I’m sorry about that. How are you?"

"I’m fine." he says, his voice both raspy and weak.

"Were you hungover?" the devil asks.

"A bit, yeah."

"I knew you would be. I was too." Angel says.

Aki feels the tingling in his throat once again, the pain eating him up from the inside, his internal organs hurting more than they’d done before, crying out loud for him to listen and give in. He’d spent these days drinking tea, smoking more cigarettes, which definitely wasn’t the right thing to do or the right way to cope, but alas, that’s what he had done.

Denji and Power had been on his dick, teasing and laughing at him any chance they’d gotten. Surely, they had indeed noticed the flowers, with no knowledge or understanding of the disease behind it. Still, Aki could tell they were frightened behind all their teasing. Frightened of it being infectious or harmful in any way to themselves or their housemate. When Aki had told them that it indeed wasn’t, that it was normal and humane, and therefore they couldn’t understand it, and that they should keep their mouths shut about it, their expressions had been anything but those of teasing devils. Instead of lingering on it too much, he had excused them before sending them off to go for a walk outside.

The pain had been manageable enough, and in all honesty it still was. The pure thought of his condition was the true vomit inducing part, and being around Angel right now certainly wasn’t helping the beat of his rapid heart’s rhythm.

Stop being so fucking dramatic, Aki.

You’re fine. You’ll be just fine.

He swallows. 

"When do we have a patrol again?" Angel suddenly asks, making Aki return to his common senses and earth once more.

"Tomorrow."

"Alright." Angel says in a way that almost sounds like a sigh. The conversation is dull and boring, and Aki notices Angel’s face, which is painted with equal parts worry and confusion.

"Are you sure you’re alright?" he asks.

"I’m fine, just… recovering, that’s all." Aki answers reassuringly, though it seemed as if the devil just wasn’t satisfied, as if he’d hoped for a different, more negative answer.

Despite that, he seems to trust Aki enough to let it go eventually.

"Okay… if you say so. Can we get ice cream tomorrow?"

"Absolutely not. And I should go, Angel."

"Where to?"

"Frankly, that’s none of your business."

"You’re such a bore."

With those words, Angel begins walking away from Aki, before he himself has the chance to leave him alone in the hallway. Aki finds himself smiling faintly at the devil’s snappy comment, the common and familiar rush of fluffy feelings reappearing inside of him.

That’s when he starts to feel it again. 

"Don’t be late tomorrow, Angel." he says as the devil walks away, his voice cracking in between every word.

"I could say the same for you." the angel replies.

As soon as he’s out of sight, Aki rushes to the male’s bathroom, nearly tripping on the way, hunching himself over the closest toilet, not really caring who hears the violent vomiting or the sound of petals falling and landing softly in the water.

At this rate Aki might just die from embarrassment rather than the pains or his shortened lifespan hanging over him in neon lights and flashing signs. Whenever he came to his senses as he finished coughing and vomiting up the last remains of his longing, he felt the shame and guilt bubble up inside him.

The sweat begins to drip once more. Aki felt warm and hot no matter the location. For all he knew he could be back in Hokkaido, and he’d still feel like he was dying of a heatwave. 

The disgusting odour of sweat, flowers, vomit, tears and illness fills the snug air, as Aki cries soundlessly and his wretched tears fall. 

Aki didn’t know which common senses to hold onto anymore.

Aki hadn’t rushed home the second he felt any minor ache in his chest. Aki was forced home as soon as his little coughing fits started disturbing the agency and causing a scene in the middle of everything.

He’d survived yet another day at work, neglecting the physical pain in his body for hours and hours on end, until his strength eventually died on him. Another sudden coughing fit had caused quite the stir, making the other devil hunters turn their heads. Usually, he’d been able to hide them enough. But today was the worst he’d felt yet, and his body just couldn’t keep up. A nod from Kishibe said it all - he was excused and permitted to go home early.

He’d tell Makima once he returned to work tomorrow. He had to take it easy, despite his pride and anxiety.

This couldn’t be happening to him.

As soon as Aki exits the building, another choke appears in his throat, one that shakes his entire body to the core, making him want to twist in pain. He coughs sharply then and there, the flowers falling from his lips instantly. 

With his body heavy like a rag doll, Aki lunges himself towards the nearest alley, where he falls to his knees with another sharp stabbing pain in the chest. This time, the first thing he coughs up is blood, the metallic flavour filling his mouth, which begins to taste more like despair than metal, after the first petal falls. Then almost in a cinematic way, bigger petals begin falling, soon followed by flowers so big they hurt to cough up.

The pain is agonising, the loud wailing filling both his ears and the alley. Truth was in Tokyo, you were never really alone. Another shameful cry and Aki stood up on his legs again, fighting for balance and solid ground. 

His suit was smeared with the red painted blood, he looked like the aftermath of yet another patrol with Angel or perhaps a fight with Denji early in the morning if the devil had really gotten on his nerves (or pulled one of those inhumane pranks he loved so dearly).

Shamefully, he gets on the train once he gets to stand in his legs, and shamefully he exists, avoiding the stares of by-passers and couples holding hands. As the snow began to fall, Aki found his hands both cold and icy and damned himself for forgetting to put on gloves. 

Why'd he have to be in such a great pain during the holiday season?

As Aki enters the apartment, the first thing he’s greeted by is the sound of Meowy, most likely calling out for Power, who’s still at work, which was an unusual turn of events, an unlikely role that Aki and her had apparently switched.

I need to lay down, is his first coherent thought once he’s inside the own coziness of his home. With a tumble, he enters his bedroom, throwing himself onto the bed in a heartbeat. He feels seasick, as if his entire body is crumbling like pieces of paper before him. He feels the closing of his airways, his whole body giving in to the aching pain. 

It hadn’t even been a month, and Aki already felt as if his condition had worsened drastically. His eyelids are heavy, and he falls asleep almost instantly, only to wake at yet another coughing fit in the middle of the night.

Aki feels short of breath, as if there’s something stabbing him from the inside, something blocking his airways, getting more and more intense every second. 

This was happening fast, far too fast for his liking, Aki having to accept once more, the realities of his… affection.

That’s what sends him over the edge, as he turns to one of his final ideas in vain. 
He had to ignore the Angel Devil at all costs outside of forced patrolling. 

He cries again, this time not knowing the full reason why.

The days pass and the flowers fall like snow. Aki wasn’t sure how many he’d been coughing up by now. Aki takes on yet another day of work, despite Kishibe’s concerns. Makima encourages it. She seemed to be the only person truly caring about him. To some, Aki was just a weapon. To most, Aki most definitely was just a weapon. But Makima valued and deemed him as an equal, a skilled devil hunter and a well respected and well liked colleague.

These emotions surely had to be reserved for Makima. Aki’s disappointment in the feelings not being mutual weren’t exactly the biggest of his concerns. Especially not when he was patrolling with Angel.

Aki wouldn’t be heartbroken over the devil not returning his feelings. That was entirely out of the picture.

During a smoke break while the two had sat on a bench somewhere in Tokyo, Aki had coughed, turning his entire face away from Angel, hiding the flowers in his hands before casually letting them fall onto the ground and into the beds of white, clean snow. No one would notice or find it odd, surely.

"Okay, what is up with you? Why are you hiding your condition from me? Spit it out, now." Angel demands, his exhales becoming visible breaths in the winter air.

Aki rolls his eyes.

"Okay, it’s a cold. Why are you surprised? It’s Christmas, winter."

"We both know it’s not a common cold."

"You’re right, it’s an uncommon cold. It’ll be over soon."

The expression on Angel’s face is almost sorrowful, his pale skin and gaze making Aki feel a sense of guilt and anger for lying to the other man so effortlessly. But Angel couldn’t know. 

For whatever reason, Angel couldn’t know.

Still, his expression is one of concern and worry, care even. He doesn’t let his eyes wander off to any other place or person. They’re entirely glued to Aki, who avoids eye contact at every opportunity.

"Aki?" the devil’s voice aches as he speaks.

"What?"

"You ought to stop smoking so damn much."

Aki would laugh if he dared risk the flowers. 

"It’s not like that."

"Yes it is, I know it is. It’s lung damage. Your lifestyles have finally caught up with you."

"I’m not dying anytime soon. It’s not like that."

"Sure, sure."

Angel is clearly annoyed at the other for being so reckless and being this distant and cold. He could tell in a heartbeat, that Aki was acting unusually, and not just because of the illness. There was a choice of some kind which Aki had made, that entirely changed his character and the two’s dynamic. It was almost as if he was unrecognisable.

Aki himself was starting to get annoyed.

"What can I do to get you to trust me?" Aki asks in an almost comedic tone, as if he’s trying to reassure the other that he’s fine, and that he doesn’t need any kind gestures or anymore questions.

"I don’t know - get well soon, maybe? Seek a medical professional? Get some help?" 

"No… Angel, it’s nothing."

"If it’s nothing, then why is it bothering you this much? I’ve seen how you trail off to the bathroom to vomit, how you cough and through the sounds of it, how it clearly are some rather painful coughs. You’re dying of lung cancer, Aki. I would say you’re lucky, but I know you don’t deem it as such. And I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, since you seem very eager to die young. But how, how can you care this little? How can you-"

Aki doesn’t waste another precious breath. This had to be settled now.

"I said I’m fine, Angel. I’m not gonna repeat myself." he snaps, his voice oddly calm, yet shaken and breathless.

The silence after those words is loud, perhaps from the city screams lingering in the air like flies. Angel looks over at the devil hunter, his eyes still searching for a glimpse of relief and comfort, some genuine reassurance, one which he could actually believe.

Aki feels the need to hunch over again and give in to the pressure and nausea, letting the flowers out, all for the other, for the world to see. It’s almost as if he wants to get caught for a moment. Naturally, he couldn’t, despite the fact it would definitely be a medical help to let others know of his condition.

At home, Denji and Power hadn’t stopped their worrying. Late at night he could hear the two staying up way too late in the night, whispering (screaming) about the potentials of Aki’s illness. The two had no clue what the name for it was, had no clue what it meant, but without a doubt did they know, that it was both painful and slow.

His health was declining more so than it had ever before, and Aki despised the idea of these fucking flowers being the grim reaper of his life.

He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about it, but perhaps… the touch of the Angel Devil might be a less painful way to die-

Something within that thought is vomit inducing and dangerous, as Aki physically feels his ribs tighten and his stomach muscles cramp on him.

These sinful thoughts were the pure reason for his condition, and the confirmation of the significant other indeed being Angel, hits him hard and fatally.

He covers his mouth, the loud and ugly cries catching the attention of both Angel and unknowing citizens.

If only he hadn’t bothered fantasising about a less painful way to die.

Aki feels the petals land in his hands, and he turns his entire body to throw them away secretly once more. Aki knew Angel wouldn’t bother invading his personal space - despite everything the devil wasn’t exactly out to kill him.

At least not through touch.

Once Aki is finished, he takes in the sight of his frozen hands, which are covered with the blood of his current longing. There was no use trying to get rid of it. He for once didn’t have a handkerchief on him, and he didn’t want to get his clothes dirty.

Instead he chose to stay like that, his entire body facing the other way away from the devil.

Angel found himself getting more and more angry at Aki, his annoyance staining his mind with the urge to help as well as the urge to fucking beat him blue.

As a devil, he thought all humans ought to die painfully. But the thought of Aki doing so, was for some reason not particularly pretty or satisfying.

Angel feels some kind of strange sensation in his chest at that thought.

He moves in closer to the other, his hands wanting to reach out and shake his body to meet him.

"Hey, let me see you, come here."

Aki tries to get away in vain. The devil crosses the invisible barrier, as he grabs a hold of Aki’s clothed arm, and pulls him in closer. Aki trembles at the momentary fear of the two touching skin to skin, a gasp escaping him as he is pulled in closer by force. Aki is weak and his body can’t resist. Angel sees the darkened blood on his hand, as one tiny drop falls down and lands in the snow. 

The angel swears he feels a stab in the heart, his eyes following soon after. 

"You’re coughing blood, Aki."

Aki gets up from the bench without a word. A deep sigh escapes him as the entire world collapses around him.

At least he hasn’t noticed the flowers yet, he thinks and thanks the heavens for.

"I’m fine, Angel."

"You’re coughing blood." Angel repeats almost breathlessly, the words being those of whispers rather than a fully coherent sentence.

That Aki couldn’t deny, though his whole body and every muscle within it aches at the thought of Angel finally getting his confirmation.

Aki wasn’t doing well. Actually, this was rather serious.

"You need to see a doctor. Does Power know?"

"Why’s that important?" Aki laughs anxiously at the idiotic question.

"Isn’t she the blood fiend? Perhaps she-"

"Power can’t help me. She can’t even cook toast without burning my fucking house down." Aki interrupts.

Angel looks at the taller man with pure disbelief and concern.

"What is wrong with you?" he asks, his voice sounding as if it’s cracking and shattering like the glasses in every nearby antique shop. "You're acting so strange." 

Aki, both embarrassed by the situation and hurt by the fact that Angel indeed seemed worried, though he just wasn’t worried enough, decides in a moment of pure internal rage and despair to leave the other and hurry back home. He was in need of a shower, a thorough hand washing and a cigarette.

"We’re done patrolling for today."

Angel yells. In a moment of confusion and concern he gets up from the bench, taking warranting and bold steps towards the other. As they stand face to face, it’s difficult for both of their stone cold faces and facades not to shatter a bit.

"Oh- so you’re just gonna leave me here, huh?"

"That’s exactly what I’m gonna do." Aki says calmly.

Angel grabs his shoulders in what seems like total desperation, as if he’s trying to get the other to listen and come to his senses. Instead, he catches a glimpse of Aki’s eyes as they glisten, and he looks away, neglecting any form of communication that Angel might be trying to make.

At last, Angel speaks. 

"You’re being cruel. I don’t like you, you know that?"

Aki’s guts, twisted as they were, send another sharp punch to his airways. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, every word acting as a gasp, every thought fearing that the next breath might be his final.

Aki hated to admit that he indeed did suffer from great death anxiety. A fear universally held, one that he wasn’t exactly ashamed of.

Still, it sure would be a pity to have regrets by now. 

Aki turns his body away from Angel, as he begins to walk away from the devil, the bench, as well as the flower petals and blood stains in the snow. 

All he could do now was hope that Angel wouldn’t notice.

"Trust me, I do." he whispers to himself as he takes another step in the opposite direction.

Much to his dismay he swears he feels a tear prickle in the corner of his tired eye.

Aki shouldn’t be working. But he was. And it was getting tougher and tougher to breathe every day.

By now the pressure in his lungs was so painful, every movement felt like a sting. 

Even the simplest chores resulted in agonising pain and suffering, Aki fighting every urge not to call the doctor.

As a matter of fact why didn’t he just contact the doctor?

Was it his sense of pride that made it embarrassing? Not even that, because Aki didn’t have to let them in on the whole situation, or why he was suffering from the disease in the first place.

The surgery would be painless and he wouldn’t be suffering anymore. Simple as that.

Perhaps, Aki feared it more than anything.

He hated to admit his vulnerability, how tender hearted he felt whenever he went patrolling, drinking or smoking even with his buddy.

A part of him didn’t want to risk letting it go. It was almost as if he was growing attached to the pain, the way it hurt, but it hurt so good to have it as the final reminder of his love, his heart and care.

He was helpless and nothing seemed to be of comfort.

Aki would be dying in a matter of years as well, the clock of his life ticking every minute and every hour. Spending so much energy on a surgery, only for him to die within a few years, would be useless.

Fuck. Was Aki accepting this way of dying? 

Power and Denji had been waiting for him to come home from the grocery store, which they’d sent him off to in a hurry. They insisted that they’d stay, despite Aki’s desperate efforts to get them to go with him as they usually did.

But Aki wasn’t in any mood for arguing or even trying to convince them. 

That’s how the two devils had ended up buying balloons and other items from a nearby store (naturally with Aki’s credit card) while he hadn’t noticed a couple days prior, and why they were now decorating the entire house in a hurry, anticipating his arrival any time.

Power had turned on the television, found a music channel of some sorts which played the greatest disco hits of the century, a song about partying and going out every Saturday being on.

Denji stood there waiting, the balloons flying around, the confetti cannon in his hand waiting for him to come home.

The door opens fast and before Aki even steps into the apartment, he’s already on about the annoyance of the situation.

"You two better be fucking grateful that I actually went out of my way and-"

The cannon goes off, confetti flying everywhere, covering Aki in its glittering colours and shining golden particles.

Aki nearly screams at the surprise.

Power turns on the volume, the disco track filling the apartment with a vibe that was inexplainable and filled with good energy.

The two begin jumping around, Aki staring at them, with a wrenched cry in his chest, his airways closing in entirely. The very few breaths he manages to take are closer to those of gasps and hyperventilation. Still, he’s happy, he’s so very happy and fucking moved that the two had surprised him despite the cleaning session he knew was awaiting him, once this celebration had died down.

The two, as clueless as they were, had seen his pain, and thought he was in need of a surprise and a party. The two airheads had went out of their way to plan all this for him. 

Why he gets so emotional at the sight, is a wonder to himself just as much as it is to the others. This was a mess, this was horrible. But he can’t control his emotions anymore at this rate.

Aki’s tears run free almost instantly, his quiet sobs escaping from his mouth, as the taste of flowers makes its return. He feels them grow, feels them rise up to the surface, and he coughs, he coughs in a way that sounds deadly, as he falls to his knees, covering his face, and he cries. 

Aki fully melts into the comfort and the warmth of the pain, and the hurting of his housemates, as the pain overtakes these joyous moments once more, and he begins hyperventilating from the loss of breath.

Denji and Power, confused as usual, debate whether they should leave him be or keep dancing. 

Instead, some humanity within Denji makes him run over to the other, as he falls to his knees as well, and hugs him tightly. Power joins in, once she sees the flowers falling from Aki’s mouth once more.

The craziest part was the fact that Aki let them hug and hold him for longer than he’d ever thought possible without them choking him or kicking him in the balls.

With no idea what was happening, why Aki was this sick and why he was crying this hard, Power finds her place on the other side of Aki, as her and Denji both hug him tight for what feels like many hours.

The disco music in the background continues playing over the sound of Aki’s loud cries and screams, the agony of the hurting making Denji question his own emotions, as he finds himself unable to prevent the tears that fall from his own face.

"You have got to stop pushing me away." Angel calls out, as Aki exhales the smoke from his cigarette. "And you’ve got to quit it already with the smoking!"

Aki coughs again, this time the thrill actually being from the smoke and not the flowers which he feels floating to the surface of his body every ten seconds.

"It’s not a cigarette thing, I’ve told you already."

"You’re worsening it no matter what it is! Why don’t you care?!"

"Why are you being so aggressive these days?"

Angel leans up against the wall in the alleyway, tilting his head back, as he exhales with a deep sigh of disappointment. 

"Someone’s got to be concerned about you. Power and Denji, what about them?"

"They couldn’t care less." he lies.

"You’re so fucking selfish, that you don’t care, or that you don’t think someone else cares." 

Aki hides a hurting smirk at the other’s words. "You’re quite selfish yourself." he states.

Angel yawns at this, another deep groan painting the air around them with tension and heartache.

"I’m bored, and I’m annoyed with you."

"You don’t have a right to be."

"I know…" Angel whispers, his voice sounding both melancholic and sad. 

Aki yelps in another sudden pain, as he leans forward and nearly chokes. His breathing is so short, so frantic, it feels as if he just might die from his airways being that tight. His cigarette falls from his mouth, his entire body eventually giving in. He’s weaker than ever before, and his current hyperventilating lungs are closer to what reeks of death than any momentary relief. 

Angel hurries on over to him, running a hand over his clothed back, as he tries to bring the other some sense of peace and ease of mind in his hazy surroundings.

His coughs are ugly, and for the first time, Angel finds himself genuinely panicking.

"Easy, easy…" he whispers reassuringly, rubbing gentle circles over his back, not really caring what it meant, or the fact that he was supposed to hate the other.

Aki coughs something up which falls to the ground, finally catching the devil’s attention as his eyes widen and Aki desperately fights to hide it.

His body won’t let him though. 

The alleyway has little to no amounts of snow, but the sight is pretty much the same, whether the petals and blood had landed in snow or not.

Angel notices, despite Aki's efforts to push them away, in between raspy coughs and airy gasps. 

His voice is painfully dull once he speaks.

"Those are flowers, Aki." the devil says, reaching out to touch one, Aki almost grabbing the Angel Devil’s hand to prevent it before his common senses stop him from touching the devil. "You’re coughing flowers." he repeats.

"Stay away from them." Aki says, the command sounding more like a threat than anything, having the same effect as if he’d stopped him physically. His entire vulnerability had been spilt out all over the city streets, his guts as worn out and tired as his mind these days. The last thing he needed was for Angel to play detective games with him.

Angel knew, there was no way he didn’t. He’d blown his cover, and his secret was no more. Not only would Angel now deem him as nothing more than a sensitive love struck fool and human, but he’d know all about his affection towards him, as the flowers before him were quite literally a symbol of it.

"Hanahaki. I’ve heard of some cases where-"

"Don’t fucking say it’s name, or I’ll have you killed." he growls in an animalistic manner, making Angel’s heart stop for a second from equal parts fear and curiosity.

Angel doesn’t seem to care about the shame of it all, all he truly cares about right now is Aki and Aki having to let his guards down for the first time.

"Scary. Who?"

"What?"

"Who are they for? The flowers."

"Don’t you fucking dare word it like that."

In an attempt at standing up Aki puts his hands onto the ground, landing on all fours, the side pain in his lungs causing him to crumble once more.

He’s so sick by now he can’t even stand properly. 

How pathetic one would have to be to end up like this, he thought…

"I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so angry, Aki. That means I’m onto something."

"You sound optimistic about it." Aki says out of pure frustration, his voice hiding nothing but sadness and sorrow.

"I’m not. I’m intrigued."

Angel stands up, gazing down at the man in front of him, every now and then looking over at the blood stained flowers and their many colours.

That must’ve hurt like hell, he thinks feeling some kind of unspoken sympathy for the other (though he couldn’t lie and say this was the first time he’d felt somewhat fond of Aki).

"Answer me. Who are the flowers for?" Angel tries again.

"They’re not for anyone," Aki spits. "Rather, they’re eating my fucking body up bit by bit, and it hasn’t stopped since the day it started."

"I thought you’d finally caught some lung disease. Instead, you’re dying of a broken heart."

"Can’t you stop being nonchalant just this one fucking time?!" Aki yells, his voice echoing through the alleyway in a way that makes Angel’s entire body cold with goosebumps. 

He shivers before he dares open his mouth again.

"It’s Makima, isn’t it?"

Aki can’t help but laugh.

"I don’t owe you an answer. You’re forgetting my authority here."

"Why didn’t you tell me? Why are you so embarrassed?"

Aki doesn’t answer immediately. Instead he tries to get up on his legs once more, this time the pain finally allowing him. Angel takes in the sight of the other man once more, and he’s a total mess.

His eyes are fiery and feverish, his mouth is covered in blood, his teeth red and his hair greasy, messy strands falling from his ponytail and covering his pale, blushing face.

"It’s none of your business." he says, in a tone that almost sounds reassuring, as if he indirectly swore to the devil that he’d be fine, and this was just another thing that had to disappear. But Angel knew hanahaki did not just disappear. Could that be why Aki had been ignoring-

Angel can’t say he’s surprised. He knew the rumours of Aki being the biggest devil hater were a lie.

Still, he wasn’t certain. And the thought of the other dying out of affection for him… it had his mind going in circles, thinking and reflecting on stuff, which he beats himself up for having neglected in a previous clouded and unknowing state of mind.

He couldn’t be sure. Who was to say Aki didn’t despise his guts…

His eyes trail over the other, catching a faint glimpse of those blue eyes he knew so well by now.

"You look so cool like that." Angel says teasingly and confidently, in an obvious attempt to catch the other off guard. Even in times of death the two always found a way to banter their way out of it. 

Aki raises his eyebrows and his voice becomes sharp and serious once more.

"What the fuck?"

"Let’s get drunk again sometime soon, Aki." Angel says, as if he means something more by the sudden statement. 

Aki shakes his head.

What the actual fuck was going on? Was Aki hallucinating? No, he was over those silly suspicions - this was real, and not some bad dream which he could wake from.

"I’d prefer if we don’t." he says with nearly just as much confidence as Angel had spoken with previously. Naturally, Aki didn’t mean this, but he was growing desperate.

Aki had to take distance sooner or later.

It shouldn’t even be this hard. The guy’s a devil. And Aki felt like a failure at yet another realisation.

Angel sighs, something near boredom and disappointment lingering in his voice.

"Alright then. I’ll be seeing you."

"Hey, don’t leave!" Aki calls out, but Angel is already off to somewhere new.

"Your body needs rest. I’m so fucking bored with you as well, I might just fall asleep… I miss my bed."

The part about Aki’s body being tired, and in need of rest, was indeed a truth universally known, and the mutual feeling of missing one’s bed was something Aki definitely found relatable by now. The more Aki and Angel spent time together, the more they realised just how similar they were from time to time despite the two being opposites in every other way.

"You’re right, you’re right…" Aki says softly.

Angel looks back at him, about to head off into the city lights, the sun already beginning to set, the streetlights flickering in the distance. 

He sends him an expression, one that isn’t that of a smile, but one which is still gentle and warm.

"Please don’t come to work anymore." he says with a voice crack, making Aki’s heart flutter for a quick second, one which he would forget within a minute or two.

Aki’s eyes begin to water.

"You know I can’t do that."

Angel nods and with that he’s gone.

Christmas was approaching and the weather was only getting worse and worse. The snow had stopped falling from the sky, the sun being hidden behind grey clouds for most days, life beginning to feel more like a sad movie than one that could remind Aki of the holiday season.

At his apartment, Aki had bought a plastic Christmas tree, since he didn’t want to risk the mess a real one would make (or the shenanigans Denji and Power would demonstrate on Christmas eve).

They had decorated it with various Christmas ornaments and candy, as well as freshly bought socks and small toys. Together, they had sat down and made paper ornaments, gold paper fans and lanterns, and even wind chimes to go along with the vibrant colours of the tree - which Power had insisted should be red. 

Aki had grown somewhat tired of seeing the colour red, as it at this point only reminded him of blood and red flowers. But to Power, blood was something so precious. Naturally, her will was the only way, and the tree ended up being a bright red shade.

Aki’s lungs hurt, they hurt oh so bad, though it felt as if the air had become less dense, and his breathing more stable. He hadn’t thought about the sudden relief much. He was far too busy preparing, for what he expected would be his last Christmas.

At work, he bumps into Angel, which feels more painful than anything. He has to prevent another cough from escaping upon the encounter - and much to his surprise, when he did it was successful, and no flowers had come out.

He’d turned a corner, and there stood Angel.

"Aki, hi." he says, the look on his face looking equal parts smug and equal parts eager. It was almost as if Angel had been waiting for him here…

"Hi."

"I got you something." Angel says, and that’s when Aki looks down towards the present which Angel is currently holding. How he hadn’t noticed before, he has no idea. His mind was such a mess at this rate, if anything he was just happy to see him again.

Aki’s face drops once he takes in the sight of the other’s so called present. 

You have got to be fucking kidding me…

"Flowers?"

The sight in front of Aki was indeed no hallucination or lie. Angel had truly bought him a bouquet of flowers in all colours, the main ones being red (either to get Aki in the mood for Christmas, or to tease and hurt him a little more). 

"Yeah. You don’t have to laugh about it."

"You’re very empathetic, Angel, really." Aki says, his voice sarcastic and blunt.

"Please hear me out before you decide to hate me forever."

Aki sighs deeply, the sigh sounding more like a groan than a release of air and tension.

I couldn’t even if I tried.

"I bought these for you."

Aki rolls his eyes, covering his forehead in his hands.

"Why?"

"Because It’s Christmas. And I’m assuming you’re tired of coughing these up."

Idiot.

"It feels like you’re mocking me. I don’t know how much time I have left."

"Aki, I’m not letting you die before it’s time."

Aki’s as confused as his expression shows. A part of him wants to laugh, wants to see the funny side in this strange gesture which Angel had bought and planned for him.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"If I could, I’d prevent it."

"You’re being insanely confusing right now." Aki says with a faint laughter.

"I know. But please, accept my flowers. I should’ve bought them long ago."

"What is this?"

"Look up." Angel says at last, and Aki does so with no hesitation.

Aki’s confusion had reached a high, and it was certainly not coming down anytime soon, but when he laughs he laughs, and the laughter makes his cheek flush from something other than the disease.

His eyes meet whatever was above him, and he nearly chokes on his own spit at the smooth destination Angel had chosen. For once, he doesn’t feel the urge to cough, but rather cover his face in a sudden blood and smile.

They’re standing right under a mistletoe.

"Oh, would you look at that." Angel says. "What a… coincidence." 

Angel’s tone is playful and kind, one which Aki hadn’t seen from him before. It proved to him something which he hated deep down inside - Angel was capable of acting flirtatious, actually being somewhat sweet and giving, and he could potentially be capable of holding the same feelings for Aki, as Aki by now had accepted he held for him. 

It seemed like all hope wasn’t lost for a quick moment, and just like that, it was as if everything fell into place.

Aki doesn’t even bother hiding his own laughter anymore, as he’s both flustered and happily confused in this current state, which feels both natural and humane, as well as healthy and fulfilling.

Angel sends him a shy smile back, before he reaches for something in his pocket and hands it to Aki. 

It’s a Christmas card, red in colouring with glimmering letters and flowers painted onto the front. He hands him the flower bouquet as well.

Just because Aki cared for the devil, didn’t mean he wasn’t as annoying as he usually was.

"Flowers, again. Aren’t you just the sweetest?"

"Read it." Angel says, and with that he turns away, leaving the devil hunter behind, his own excitement bubbling inside of him, eager to see Aki’s reaction. But Angel couldn’t bear it.

He shouldn’t be feeling this childish about the other. But for once, he allowed it. At this rate, Angel knew of Aki’s feelings. He was certain, that those flowers indeed were for him. 

Aki wastes no time before he opens the card revealing a handwritten message inside, the handwriting messy and cursive, but still somewhat readable.

In all honesty, Aki was surprised at the pure fact that Angel could read and write, let alone possibly feel this way for Aki.

With his fingers shaking and trembling, Aki let his eyes fall upon the letter addressed to him, as he took in every word which Angel had written for him.

Dearest, Aki.

I meant every word I said, even the stuff I didn’t say.

I’m sick of seeing you coughing your heart up (literally and metaphorically).

I know this is gonna make you laugh.

Merry Christmas.

I’ve always hated you, Aki.

Sometimes you only realise just how deep that hatred goes, until the other begins to cough and vomit blood stained flowers.

I hope you will accept mine, though I don’t worry much about you declining them.

It’s almost as if your life depends on it.

With love (love), Angel.

PS. We don’t have to do anything about it.

Aki swears he sees stars.

He finds himself rereading the letter over and over again, his cheeks turning red at every sentence, his smile brightening for every word.

Surely, there couldn’t be done much, knowing Aki only had a few years left, but the subtle confession was more than enough. It was perfect, it was everything he’d ever wanted.

He's so stupid, and so stupidly happy it’s almost a silly reaction he has to the letter and the flowers. Not only was the confirmation and confession genuine, it was lethal. 

Angel had with one letter saved Aki’s life, one silly indirect confession of love underneath a mistletoe had prevented Aki’s early and painful death. Aki owed him both his life and his heart in return.

Aki felt how his cramps were no more, and though he expected a slow recovery, the burden that had been lessened and removed from his shoulders and the peace of mind he felt… it was almost as if he’d been healed instantly. His airways didn’t feel so tight anymore, and when he tested his waters and took a heavy breath, all he felt was relief rather than pain, and he smelt the fresh breeze lingering in the air instead of metallic flowers. 

Though their time was always running out, and there was no saying when Aki truly would die, or how painful his death just might be, it was all he’d ever wanted, and as he finally accepts his feelings (and the fact that they’re mutual), he felt the world make just a bit more sense.

Certainly, this wouldn’t be his last Christmas.

He leaned down to smell the flowers, the scent being strong and familiar, but not one that was vomit inducing or traumatic to him.

He closes his eyes taking in the scent once more, thinking to himself just how precious these flowers truly were to him.

He cursed the world right then and there for making the two unable to touch, for if they’d been able to, he would’ve thrown it all away right then and there under the mistletoe and kissed him the way he should’ve done weeks ago if only possible. 

And with that, Aki was a lovesick mess, which he for once didn’t fully mind.

The days passed, and snow began falling again, covering the city in its white sand, cooling the intense warmth Aki had felt from his illness down eventually.

When he went home that day, the first thing Power asked was naturally who’d gifted those beautiful flowers for her, and when Aki told her, that they were for him, Denji quickly joined the conversation only to cry out how unfair this world was.

The flowers were put in a vase which shattered on Christmas eve after Denji and Power had attempted dancing in the living room.

But the flowers still remained and lived for the day, unlike the ones in Aki’s lungs, which died slowly but surely.

Aki stopped coughing flowers after that, and his lungs finally felt somewhat perfectly normally damaged, his heart rate being the only thing keeping its speed and intensity throughout the final stages of Aki’s life, both during devil hunting, silent stares in between battles and playful banters.