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Mithrun wanted to believe it was over. It had to be, its not like he could feel much anymore. But here he was, retching and gagging between breaths. These ones were easier to cough out however, unlike the other ones he'd had before; roses, thorns and all. These were thinner than paper and easier to slide out, but it was still hard to breath. The taste of blood lingering on his tongue was nostalgic in the worst way possible.
He recognized the bigger petals as pink carnations, but the smaller ones, the ones with a deep blue hue that could only be described as sapphire, were more foreign to Mithrun.
He had a hard time believing it was Kabru causing this. Kabru was his caretaker, Kabru was his right eye, Kabru was the key to the locked door behind Mithrun's leftover desires—and nothing more. Which after a moment of thinking about, Mithrun realized that that was kind of weird. But it doesn't matter, because it definitely should not be Kabru.
He noticed it when Kabru was making food for him. He didn't realize he was admiring Kabru from the other room, but he was. His eyes lingered too long, and he felt an itch at his throat and the familiar taste of blood pooling in his mouth. He lets himself let out a small cough, and before he knows it, he's holding a huge, thin, pink flower petal crumbled up and covered in saliva and blood.
"Mithrun?" He hears from the kitchen. "You alright?"
Mithrun crumples up the petal in his hand. "Yes."
The rest of the day went smoothly. Maybe because right after Kabru fed him, he abruptly excused himself, not even bothering to come up with an excuse. He didn't turn back.
He didn't think it could ever happen again. Last it happened, it was for her. And he didn't like thinking about her, so he didn't. When he had this sickness, it was roses. They were horribly painful to hack out, it felt like a billion knives running up and out of his throat. But back then, he actually cared about the pain.
Maybe Kabru was right and his desires are coming back, because he feels the familiar desire to hide himself away from Kabru, despite other thoughts trying to tell him otherwise.
He secluded himself from Kabru for two weeks. He only allowed himself to look into Kabru's eyes after three, but that's besides the point. He fought the urge to cough by biting his sleeve while Kabru wasn't looking. And when he did cough, he muffled it with his hands, and immediately crushed the petals between his fingers and wiped them away on his pants, and only realized it was leaving ugly brown and red bloodstains when Kabru noticed. He had to say he got mud on himself while on his way to the castle.
"You really need to take better care of yourself," He listened to Kabru say, and another petal pricked at his throat.
Kabru offered to wash his clothes for him, but he swiftly declined. It was weird, so sudden, almost foreign to even try and hide things from people. And he knew he was probably horrible at it. Plus, Kabru is smart. He can see through lies like glass.
But it was strange. Kabru didn't seem to notice very well. His usual very pushy and needy nature was dialed down a bit, to the point were he wont ask twice when Mithrun says its just mud, or he just had something in his throat.
Mithrun questioned it, but quickly shrugged it off.
"I'll get to cooking," Kabru said, his voice tender. He felt blood pool against his tongue.
"I'm not hungry." He said. He should be hungry, he hadn't been eating all day, and god knows how much blood he'd lost, but he didn't have an apatite.
Kabru raised an eyebrow. "Can you try to eat a little for me?" He asked. Another flower tickled his throat. This bastard.
"Okay." He said. His voice was raspy. He saw Kabru glace at him with a concerned glint in his eyes before he got to cooking. Maybe he did notice it, just chose to not mention it. That makes more sense, but is... strangely out of character for him. He had a dullness in his eyes that was strange, because his eyes are usually bright as sapphires, but they look more monotone as of late. Not to mention how bad he noticed Kabru's vision has been getting, and the bags under his eyes. He stops himself mid thought because he realizes he's staring at Kabru again. He lets out a little cough and rubs the blood on his leg.
He must have not realized how much time had gone by, because by the time he had caught himself, he heard shuffling as Kabru walked in with a bowl of fried rice and placed it down next to him.
He smells like lavender. Mithrun almost chokes.
Kabru sits across the table from him.
Mithrun never understood why he showed so much genuine kindness. Was it genuine? Was it out of fear from what the Canaries could do to him? Of what Mithrun could do to him? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he just genuinely likes him and wants him to get better. But he has to be in it for something, right? He cant just put this much effort into someone so unfixable and not want something out of it. Yes, thats it. He's looking for a reward. But what does he want? Money? Gratitude? Protection? What does he want?
Whatever it is, Mithrun will likely die before he gets it.
"Oh my god-!" Marcille almost screamed.
Of course it was her who had to see. She had walked in on Mithrun hacking up half a carnation and almost fainted. "Are you okay?! Are you sick?? Is that a blood clot or--" She was stuttering and worried, but when she got closer, her lips sealed shut as she realized what it actually was. "...Is that-"
"Yes." Mithrun finished, crushing the half formed flower between his hand. He had slipped out into the hallway because he felt faint trying to hold this flower in, and Marcille just happened to turn the corner. "Do you h-"
"Yes." Mithrun said flatly.
"...Is it-"
"Yes."
Marcille took a step back and mouthed 'I knew it' before looking back at Mithrun, concerned. "Are you going to be alright?" She asked.
"Probably not," Mithrun answered, leaning his back against the wall weakly.
Marcille frowned. "Are you gonna tell him?" She asks, holding out a hand.
Mithrun gives her the (very gross looking) half-formed-flower. "No."
She raises and eyebrow. "Well why not? He's obviously into you," She said, inspecting the flower carefully. Mithrun thought about it for a moment, before shaking his head. "No. He probably likes someone else. Rin or Laios." He says. Marcille almost bursts out laughing, but bites it back, reducing it to a few giggles. "Kabru and Laios? Not in a million years, Kabru would rather die," She chuckles. Mithrun doesn't look amused. "What about Rin," He asks. Marcille tears off a petal to look at it. "Maybe. But seeing the way Kabru looks at you, I think he may have eyes for someone else besides Rin."
"What could he see in me," Mithrun asks.
Marcille shrugs, and hands him back the crumpled flower. "I'm not totally sure, but he sure does see a lot."
Mithrun pauses.
"You have to do something soon. Before its too late for the both of you." She says.
Maybe its already too late.
"Do you ever wear anything besides your uniform?" Kabru asked one day while doing the dishes. Mithrun doesn't know how to respond. Does he ever wear anything else? Yes. But does he mainly wear his Canaries uniform everywhere? Yes. "I don't know." He answers. "Do you wear anything but turtle necks?"
Kabru chuckles. "Okay, okay, you got me there." He admitted, his hands shuffling in the soapy water. "But seriously, did you even pack anything else?"
Mithrun pauses. Did he? he knows he brought a few spare pieces of clothing, but nothing permanent. He thinks for a moment. "...No," He says after a long pause of silence.
Kabru almost drops the plate he was holding. "Seriously? Thats all you brought??" Kabru asks, placing the dish in the sink and turning around to face Mithrun, reaching out to grab a small towel from next to the sink and drying his hands off with it.
"Pretty sure I brought some spares, but yeah." Mithrun says. He bites back the push to sputter out another bound of tiny blue flowers.
Kabru places the hand towel down and thinks for a moment. "I think I have a shirt you can borrow," He said, leaving the kitchen and going into his room, shutting the door behind him. Mithrun rushes to the sink and spits out the flowers, tiny blood and saliva soaked petals dropping into the sink with ugly splats!
The flowers where getting bigger. Harder to bite back. Every time he coughed up the small blue ones, more and more exerted themselves from his body, and it was getting to the point where he was coughing up half grown pink carnations. And dont even get him started on the blood. Thankfully, Kabru's sink was split in half, and he coughed up on the empty side. He got as much out as he could as quickly as possible before turning the sink on and washing the flowers down the sink. If Kabru found out, he was done for.
As soon as he started washing the blood off his mouth, he heard the door open. he quickly wiped it off and threw the towel in the trash.
He turns around, and watches as Kabru walks through the doorway holding a shirt. "You okay?" He asked as he walked in. "You look pale."
"Yes." Mithrun answers in his usual flat tone. He took the shirt from out his Kabru's hand and brushed his hand against his. Mithrun swallowed down the clump in his throat.
Kabru watches as Mithrun leaves to his room, and he catches a worried glance from Kabru for a moment.
He went into the room and closed the door behind him, letting out a shaky breath that lead to another slight cough, a small flower falling from his lips and onto the white turtleneck shirt. He hoped he didn't stain Kabru's shirt with his blood.
Mithrun shuffles to the bed. He begins stripping, unclipping his neck armor and pulling off the dress.
You're doomed, He chuckled.
"I know." Mithrun responds flatly. He looks over at the mirror in his room. All he saw was Him smirking back.
Why do we like him again? He asked.
"I wish I knew." Mithrun responded.
He's just a tallman, boring as can be. He said wistfully. Not like he can compare to-
"She's happy with Obrin now." He cuts him off.
That could have been us,
"That could have been you," He snapped back. "If it wasn't for your selfish acts, we would have been happy."
if it wasn't for my 'selfish acts,' you wouldn't exist.
"Yeah, and we both know that would have been better if we just moved on," He spat.
We couldn't just move on, for gods sake, we had thorns and roses ripping out of our throat! If we didn't do anything, we would have-
"Died? Yeah. I know. And it would have been a whole lot easier if we just let that happen instead."
Silence followed for a long while.
Mithrun looked back to the mirror. He looked blankly at him back. "Why are you here." He asked.
I came to taunt you.
"Of course you did," He said sharply. Another round of silence.
...
"..."
We're dying, Mithrun.
Mithrun lets out a shaky breath. "I know."
And what of him? He asked.
"What about him."
What will he do when you're gone? Do you think he'll mourn you, or will sigh because he has another thing off his shoulders? What do you think the tallman will do.
"..." Mithrun pauses.
"I dont know what Kabru will do."
Its silent for a long moment.
...What do you want him to do?
Mithrun furrows his eyebrows. His fists clench and unclench. "I hope..." Mithrun starts.
"I hope he forgets me."
Mithrun slips on the white turtleneck, the scent of lavender hitting his nose as he sides it down over his head. When he looks back at the mirror, He's gone, all he sees in himself, mangled ears and fake eye. The collar of the shirt is too big and the sleeves go over his hands. He runs the sleeves up to his elbows, and lets a tear fall as full grown pink carnation tears its way out of his mouth, landing in his hand covered in blood and saliva.
As a result of loving, and as a result of forgetting.
Mithrun knew his body was giving up on him. Maybe he shouldn't have visited the island and maybe he could have avoided it. Maybe not. Maybe Kabru's letters would have still done the job. He'll never know for sure.
He wishes to see Kabru before he goes. Look at him one last him. Eat one more meal with him, and let him put Mithrun to sleep one more time. He wishes to see the poor man fret over him one last time, to see the look on his face when Mithrun says something that Kabru finds outrageous. See him react when Mithrun did something or tired something knew.
But thats not happening, is it?
He didn't tell Kabru where he would be. Didn't tell him where or how to find him. But a part of him hoped that way in the back of his mind, he knew.
His legs gave out first. He knew it would go by quicker if he laid on his back, so he did. The grassy patch was cold, almost like it still had ice covering it. He took a deep breath in, and inhaled the smell of lavender from the shirt. he felt flowers tickle at his throat. His chest ached at they did and he closed his eyes. He squeezed his knuckles closed like that would make it any better.
But of course, no one dies pretty.
Mithrun's body began to attempt to try and breathe, to no avail. His eyes shot open and began to bulge, tears forming from the sheer pressure. His skin began shifting in color, from pale to red to purple. He manages out a weak cough, but is shortly replaced by gagging and sputtering. His body began to weaken slightly, his fists melting down till his palms resting on the grass. The original thumping in his heart feels weak and slow now. He's still making horribly horrifying noises, but their more quiet now. He feels his body shutter. His head pounded and he felt dizzy, his vision blurring as his eyes began resting lower. He felt cold and weak, but he still felt his body holding on for dear life. Why? Why cant it end here? He's this far gone, there's no turning back now. He feels himself slowly loosing consciousness, his eyes lowering. He barely noticed how his entire mouth was filled with vines and flowers that slowly sprouted from his heart and lungs.
It's not over yet. Mithrun hears Him say suddenly.
And that's when he felt a strong hand lift his head up slowly.
It feels like someone is trying to reach down and rip out his lungs. His eyes weakly open just a tad. He saw familiar brown hands anxiously trying to pull out the flowers from his mouth. Stubborn fool, He says. He knows its already too late yet he still tries so desperately. It's pathetic to watch.
Mithrun wishes he could reach out and strangle Him to death himself, but Mithrun and Him both know that He's here to stay.
His ears--or what's left of them--are only picking up muffled noises and a high pitched squeal, but he knows Kabru is trying to speak to him. He cant tell what he's yelling.
Kabru desperately tears out the blood covered roots and flowers stuck in his throat. He notices every flower he touches dies. Crumples up into a brown mess. That's probably the only reason this tactic of his is slightly working.
They're dying because of his resentment for you, He says. Because no matter how hard you try and how much you change, that tallman will never love you the same way you do.
He feels a small airway, and suddenly, before he could stop himself, he shot up, hunched over, coughing out the petals and roots still in his throat, gasping for air, his vision and hearing suddenly enhanced, making everything suddenly too loud and too bright. He feels Kabru's arms tightly around him, grabbing him like a promise to never let go. Was Kabru crying? He couldn't tell what Kabru was trying to tell him, it all just sounded like painful cries. He clutches at Kabru's arm as he continues to cough and gasp. Was he crying? Hopefully not. He'd never hear the end of it from Him.
When his breath finally steadied and slowed, his eyes finally began adjusting to the light, and his ears adjusting to the noise. Blood completely covered his chin and he stared down at the pile of flowers—dead and alive—sitting before him. It might be a beautifully tragic scene if it weren't for all the blood and vomit and saliva.
He might have stared at that pile forever if it weren't for Kabru pulling him back up and shoving his face into his chest.
He heard Kabru trying to speak, but it only really came out in various studders as he tries to compose himself. Finally, he hears a slightly coherent sentence leave his mouth.
"Why didn't you tell me..?"
Mithrun freezes, trying to think straight for one second, but his head was spinning and he swore he saw stars. No, seriously, he felt like he was seeing stars crowd around them, bright and golden. Hallucinations, most likely. The stars were pretty however, and he couldn't hold himself back from reaching out and touching one with his fingertip. Kabru probably thought he was crazy.
Mithrun retracted his hand and rested his weakly in his lap.
"...So who is it," Kabru asked. Mithrun looked up at Kabru, who was using one hand to wipe the ever-flowing shed of tears. He wanted to look him in the eye. But Kabru kept one arm over his eyes.
Mithrun felt an overwhelming tightness in his chest. He coughed into his hand again. He felt too weak to speak, but he knows he wouldn't tell Kabru anyways. He'd rather let it destroy him. Kabru couldn't know. He'd leave him. He'd disappear. He'd lay him back down and let it take him. He'd be disgusted, yet he'd still be polite. He'd rip Mithrun's heart to sheds in the kindest way imaginable.
Mithrun thought about it for a moment. He'd be dead anyways. He knew he would. The more thoughts clouded his mind, the more he felt the flowers slowly growing up his throat. He's too weak to stop it.
But now he has two options.
Die knowing Kabru hated him, or die knowing Kabru would never have and complete answer to why he was dying.
"Mithrun," Kabru's voice cut off his train of thought. "Please tell me, we can make it better, we can fix everything, whoever it is, I swear," He begged.
"Answer me," He said, his voice hoarse.
Mithrun hesitated.
Your dead either way.
Mithruns mouth opened. He felt the roots grow more prominent in his lungs. He took a final breath of air.
"You," He whispered, his voice cracking and almost inaudible. But he knows Kabru heard him. And then everything went dark.
Mithrun didn't realize he was even still alive. Not until he realized he could feel Kabru's lips brushed against his in a tender kiss. He wished he could just stay there forever, but he felt something sharp scratch against his throat. He pulled back and wrenched uncontrollably. Branches and twigs and dead roots and petals spewed out, blood and vomit and saliva mixed in like it was an ugly cocktail. He wrenched and coughed and after what felt like forever, it all stopped. He didn't feel anymore flowers of any kind. He sat up, and took a long, slow breath of air, savoring the fresh taste before turning back to Kabru, who sat, staring at Mithrun, his eyes wide and tired. Mithrun's eyes softened, and he leaned himself into Kabru once again.
"I'm not going back." Mithrun said flatly, about say, two and a half months after the whole incident was resolved.
The fairies face quickly shifted to Pattadol's face. "What?!" She said. "You cant just leave!" She exclaimed.
The face switched to Fleki, more disappointed. "HUH?! Who's gonna be our Captain then??" She asked.
Mithrun shrugged. "You guys can vote." He said flatly.
Otta spoke next. "Just so were clear, we are not voting on Patty," She said. Then it was Pattadols voice. "HEY!!"
Then it went to Lycion's face. "Wait, why are you even leaving in the first place?"
"I'm moving in with my boyfriend," He said flatly, which seemed to make everyone riot. He heard Fleki yell 'I knew it!! Lycion owes me!', he heard Pattadols voice seem to shriek in horror, Cithis sounded unphased, and apparently Otta thought they were dating before this, so she just sounded confused.
Mithrun disconnected the fairy and set it down.
"That went well," Kabru hummed from the kitchen.
Mithrun gave him just the smallest smile. He walked over to Kabru and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
And right next to them, sat a hand-made vase full of pink carnations and little blue and yellow forget-me-nots.