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Takeru had always known that love could be painful, but he never imagined it could be fatal.
It was the first day of summer when the first petal fell from his mouth. Crimson red rose— so original, he muttered with a roll of his eyes.
It started subtly. A persistent weariness clung to Takeru’s body, a hollowness that no amount of sleep could mend. His appetite waned, his hands trembled, and the world around him seemed to lose its color. It was only when he collapsed in the middle of the office hallway that he realized something was terribly wrong.
The doctors were baffled. No known illness matched his symptoms. His heartbeat was weak, irregular, as if something inside him was slowly unraveling. It wasn’t until an elderly physician, eyes filled with sorrow, whispered the name—Hakanaki Disease—that the truth was revealed.
A sickness of the heart. A curse borne by those who loved too deeply, too unrequitedly.
“It’s rare,” the doctor explained. “But it’s real. The body deteriorates when the heart’s longing is never answered.”
Takeru felt the weight of his fate press down on him. Was this how his story would end? A slow, inevitable withering because his love was never returned?
He never thought that seeing a beautiful petal from a beautiful flower can be so painful. Why does this have to happen to him? What’s the use of many people loving him if the person he love doesn’t love him back?
Desperation clawed at him. He thought of confessing to Taka, of tearing open his chest and laying his heart bare. But what good would it do? Pity was not love. Forcing an answer would not heal him.
So he hide it. He was a good actor after all. Taka wouldn’t know about his feelings, he wouldn’t know he’s the reason he’s dying. He hid the petal under his pillows. He might collect them until the day that he don’t have to. He sighed and felt a tear fall down his eye.
8:05AM
It’s too early for this kind of heartache but who can control this kind of feeling anyway? He decided to have breakfast at the office instead of here because he can feel the loneliness of the four walls of his apartment. It’s worse today.
He prepared his bag since he decided to go to the office today. He needed to sign some documents and discuss about the future plans of the company. Sooner, he might want to stay behind the scene as producer, well, that’s the plan.
His phone dinged of incoming message while he was making his bed. He picked it up at the night stand and open it.
“I’ll come visit you, I have something to tell you.”
It was from Taka.
The truth is, there was no need to tell him—it feels like Takeru already knows. Because for all the times he has felt his love for Taka, it’s only today that this disease has been triggered and worsened.
He must have found her.
Taka sure changes girlfriends like he changes his clothes or depending on his mood, but today is different. It feels real, genuine.
“Meet me at the office. I’m heading there.” He replied back. Taka responded with an “OK” emoticon.
The moment he entered the bathroom, he felt like vomiting. And he did. This time it wasn’t just one petal. It was a wave of them, all going down the drain. Like how he wish his feelings for him were. But he can’t stop what he feel, nor can he control them. He just have to let it be, even if it will kill him in the end.
The moment he arrived at the studio, Ryuu, was already there.
“Well, you look awful,” he said immediately.
Ryuu was like a brother to him. Sometimes, it felt like Ryuu was older than him, as he always took the chance to scold him when he could.
“Can I talk to you?” he asked. He knew Ryuu would be heartbroken, but he needed to know.
“What’s up?”
Takeru looked at Ryuu—really looked at him. Ryuu was gorgeous. His eyes were expressive, his smile could make anyone swoon, and he was responsible, loving, and everything anyone could ever dream of in a partner.
“You know Hakanaki?”
Ryuu looked puzzled for a moment before realization hit him. “Oh, the disease? That’s just fiction,” he said with a smile.
“I vomited petals today,”
It had Ryuu’s attention. “What do you mean?”
“You heard me right. The first full wave came earlier,”
Ryuu’s face looked like everything had fallen. “How?”
Takeru shook his head and walked to his small office, with Ryuu following close behind.
“I don’t know either. Well, it started a few months ago, but it’s only now that it’s come in waves.”
Ryuu opened his mouth, then closed it—like a fish out of water. “Is it me?” he asked.
Takeru laughed at that. “Sure, I love you so damn much, but no, sad to say,” he said, chuckling.
“Then who?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Takeru replied immediately.
Ryuu paused for a moment before saying, “You’ll get better soon, don’t worry.” But even he seemed to doubt his own words.
That’s the thing about this disease—it appears suddenly, without any reassurance of whether you’ll be okay or if it will kill you. But it always has a reason: the one you love doesn’t love you back.
“I hope so,” he said nothing more after that.
Ryuu sighed.
They talked a bit more while Ryuu handed him the documents he needed to sign, mostly discussing the company’s direction. A few artists had already signed with them, and soon that number would grow—especially now that they were producing their first dorama series.
After they finished talking, Ryuu left for his office. Takeru was reviewing some papers when Taka knocked on his door.
He immediately smile at the other and gesture for him to come in. “What’s up?”
“I brought some food?” Taka said lifting the bento wrapped up beautifully. “And some coffee.”
Takeru just smile and gesture Taka to drop everything at the coffee table while he arranges the papers before he joined him.
Taka smiled at him as he joined him on the couch then unwrapped the bento in front of Takeru.
Takeru stared at him. He didn’t know why, but Taka’s smile always lit up his day—like it awakened something inside him. But right now, all he felt was pain.
He never thought loving someone could hurt this much.
With a sigh, he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He needed to act normal in front of Taka so he wouldn’t suspect that something was wrong.
“So what brings you here today,” Takeru asked as soon as Taka finished arranging everything in the table.
“Why so eager to get rid of me, babe?” The endearment fell so naturally that if Takeru didn’t know any better, he might have thought it was real—not just part of Taka’s teasing.
Takeru rolled his eyes and moved his seat in front of him.
“Here, I brought breakfast. I had a hunch you didn’t eat.”
He still knew him like the back of his hand, yet somehow, that little fact hurt.
Why did it have to be this way?
They ate in silence until Takeru felt another wave of nausea rising. Quickly, he excused himself and headed to the bathroom.
As he passed by Ryuu, he caught the worried look in his eyes. Takeru offered him a bitter smile before walking away.
He knelt before the toilet as if he were worshipping it, letting the petals spill from his mouth into the water.
That’s when he saw the blood.
It was worse than he had thought. But he couldn’t control this. If he was going to die because of it, then at least let him spend his final days with his best friend.
“Takeru? Are you okay?” Taka asked from outside the bathroom.
No, I’m not, Taka. But there’s nothing you can do about it, and it hurts. He wanted to say it—but instead, he forced a reply. “Yes, I’ll be out in a minute.”
Quickly, he washed his mouth and took a deep breath, steadying himself before opening the door. On the other side, Taka stood waiting, worry written all over his face.
“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” he asked, worry evident in his voice.
Takeru forced a small smile, shaking his head. “I’m fine, really. Just a little tired.”
Taka didn’t look convinced. His brows furrowed as he studied Takeru’s face, searching for any sign of a lie. “You don’t look fine,” he muttered.
Takeru let out a soft chuckle, trying to ease the tension. “I promise. If it gets worse, I’ll go to the hospital. But for now, I’m fine,”
Taka sighed, clearly still worried, but he relented. “Alright. But if you feel even the slightest bit worse, tell me.”
Takeru nodded, though deep down, he knew he wouldn’t. Because what could Taka do, really? He couldn’t change the fact that Takeru was in love with him.
And unrequited love was a sickness with no cure.
They headed back to Takeru’s office, where Taka handed him a cup of lukewarm water.
Takeru reached for it, but his fingers accidentally brushed against Taka’s hand. Instinctively, he pulled back as if he had touched a burning surface.
Taka raised an eyebrow in question, but Takeru quickly shook his head and muttered an apology. “The cup just felt hotter than I expected,” he excused.
Taka nodded, but Takeru could tell he wasn’t buying it.
He immediately took a sip. “Anyway, what is it you wanted to tell me?” he asked, though he could feel his head growing dizzy.
“Well,” Taka smiles so bright, putting the sun to shame, “I’m engaged. She said yes.” He excitedly relay.
Takeru saw a garden in full bloom—deep crimson roses stretching endlessly before him. Then everything went black.
A faint ringing filled his ears, distant and muffled, like a sound trapped underwater. His body felt weightless, drifting in an abyss where time and space blurred.
Somewhere in the darkness, voices called out to him—urgent, panicked.
“Takeru!”
The voice was familiar. Warm. Desperate.
Slowly, his senses returned. A throbbing pain pulsed through his skull as he forced his eyes open, the blinding light above making him wince. The world around him came into focus—white ceiling, sterile scent, the steady beeping of a monitor.
A hospital.
He tried to sit up, but a firm hand pressed against his shoulder, keeping him down.
“Don’t move, idiot.”
Takeru blinked, and there he was—Taka, sitting beside the bed, worry shadowing his features.
“You collapsed,” Taka said quietly, his voice tight. “What the hell is going on with you?”
Takeru stared at Taka, his mind still hazy from the collapse. His throat felt dry, his body weak, but it was the look in Taka’s eyes that unsettled him the most.
Worry.
Real, unguarded worry.
He let out a weak chuckle, trying to mask the ache in his chest. “Did I scare you?”
Taka’s jaw tightened. “That’s not funny, Takeru.” His hands clenched into fists on his lap, knuckles turning white. “You’ve been acting weird for weeks, and now you just—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “What’s wrong with you?”
Takeru turned his gaze to the ceiling, avoiding the question. He wanted to lie, to tell him it was just stress, exhaustion—anything but the truth.
But the weight of it all was crushing him.
He closed his eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”
Taka slammed his hand on the bedside table, the sharp sound echoing in the small hospital room. “It does matter, damn it!” His voice cracked, frustration laced with something dangerously close to fear. “You collapsed right in front of me, Takeru! You think that doesn’t matter?”
Takeru swallowed hard, his heart pounding—not from the illness, but from the raw emotion in Taka’s voice.
How could he tell him?
How could he say that this was a disease of the heart, a sickness born from love that would never be returned?
So instead, he smiled weakly and whispered, “I’m just tired, Taka.”
A lie.
One that Taka clearly didn’t believe.
Before Taka could push further, the door creaked open, and a doctor stepped inside, flipping through a clipboard. His expression was neutral but unreadable, the kind that made Takeru's stomach tighten.
“Ah, Mr. Satoh, you’re awake.” The doctor glanced at the monitor beside the bed, then back at him. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” Takeru muttered, attempting to sit up. Taka immediately reached out to support him, his touch firm but careful.
The doctor nodded. “That’s expected, considering your condition.” He turned a page on the clipboard. “We ran some tests, and your results indicate—”
“That I’m fine,” Takeru interrupted, his voice sharp, almost desperate. His heart pounded in his chest as he shot the doctor a look—a silent plea. Don't say it.
The doctor blinked at him, lips pressing into a thin line. “Mr. Satoh—”
“It’s nothing serious,” Takeru cut in again, forcing a weak laugh. “Just exhaustion, right, Doc?”
The tension in the room thickened.
Taka's gaze flickered between them, suspicion clear in his eyes. “What’s going on?” He turned to the doctor. “Tell me the truth.”
The doctor hesitated, glancing at Takeru again. He could easily override him, reveal everything, and shatter the walls Takeru had so carefully built.
Takeru clenched his fists under the blanket. “I said, I’m fine.” His voice was firmer this time, laced with quiet warning.
A tense silence followed.
Finally, the doctor exhaled, closing the clipboard. “…We’ll discuss the details privately later.”
Taka frowned. “Privately? Why?”
“Doctor-patient confidentiality,” Takeru answered smoothly before the doctor could. He forced a smirk, looking at Taka. “Didn’t know you were my guardian now.”
Taka didn’t smile. “Maybe someone has to be.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
The doctor gave Takeru one last look before excusing himself, leaving the air thick with unspoken words.
Taka wasn’t letting this go.
And Takeru wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep the truth buried.
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and his condition only worsened. His body grew frail, his vision blurred. Walking was no longer an option without the inevitable wave of petals forcing their way up his throat.
And then the invitation arrived.
Taka and Mai—together, forever—the words elegantly printed in cursive, yet they struck like a blade to his chest.
He coughed so wildly his eyes teared, he coughed up at first the petals that kept flowing and then the roots. At that moment, Takeru felt like he had vomited an entire garden.
Enclosed with the invitation was a small note, scribbled in Taka’s familiar handwriting:
“You will be my best man, and I won’t take no for an answer.”
How cruel.
How unbelievably cruel.
Takeru clutched the paper in trembling fingers, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. Did Taka have any idea?
Or was fate just playing its final, twisted game?
Two days before the wedding.
Takeru could feel it—his body growing weaker, his breaths shorter. It was as if his very existence was unraveling thread by thread.
So he decided to take a walk. Slowly but sure of its destination.
It was his birthday, and he skipped everyone.
The park was quiet, kissed by the soft breeze of early spring. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, their petals drifting gently to the ground like whispers of farewell. He sat on a worn wooden bench, gazing up at the pale pink sky, letting the scent of the blossoms mix with the faint metallic taste in his throat.
This was it.
This felt like the day he would let everything go.
Then, as if fate refused to grant him solitude, Taka appeared.
Takeru stiffened. He hadn’t told anyone he was here. And yet, Taka stood before him, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning him with a mix of curiosity and concern.
“You’re avoiding me,” Taka said, his voice softer than usual. “I had to ask Ryuu where you might be.”
Takeru forced a smile, though even that felt exhausting. “You’re getting married, Taka. I figured you’d be busy,”
Taka sat beside him, stretching his legs out. “I am.” He turned his head slightly, studying Takeru. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t notice when something’s wrong with you.”
Takeru let out a quiet laugh, though it came out more like a sigh. “And what makes you think something’s wrong?”
Taka didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached up, catching a falling cherry blossom between his fingers. He twirled it absently before glancing at Takeru again.
“Because you look like you’re about to disappear.”
Takeru’s breath hitched. His fingers curled tightly around the fabric of his coat.
He knew.
Not everything, maybe. But enough.
And yet, Taka was still here. Still looking at him like that.
As if he could save him.
Takeru swallowed hard, forcing a chuckle as he looked away. “Don’t be dramatic, Taka.”
But his voice was weak, barely convincing.
Taka didn’t smile. He kept his gaze steady, searching, waiting. “Takeru.”
Hearing his name like that—soft, almost pleading—made his chest tighten.
Takeru exhaled slowly. “I’m just tired.”
Taka frowned. “That’s what you’ve been saying for months. But you’re not just tired, are you?”
Takeru’s fingers twitched on his lap. He should lie. Say something—anything—to push Taka away. But instead, his silence stretched, betraying him.
Taka shifted closer, his warmth pressing against the cold loneliness that had wrapped around Takeru for so long. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Takeru clenched his jaw. His throat ached, but not from sickness—from holding back everything he wanted to say.
Tell him? Tell him that every time he smiled at someone else, every time he touched someone else, it felt like a knife twisting deeper into his soul? Tell him that loving him was killing him—literally?
He laughed again, but this time, it was hollow. “You really don’t take no for an answer, huh?”
Taka crossed his arms. “Not when it’s you.”
Not when it’s you.
The words hit harder than they should have. Takeru let his head fall back against the bench, eyes closing as cherry blossom petals drifted down around them.
He couldn’t tell him.
Because if he did—if he said it out loud—Taka might look at him differently. Might pity him. Might try to fix something that couldn’t be fixed.
"I haven’t had time to pick a gift for your wedding," Takeru said, as if it were an afterthought.
"You know there’s no need for that. Having you beside me on that day would be enough."
And that would be even more painful than dying from this cursed love. He had loved Taka so fiercely, so completely, that it had consumed him. And yet, even as his life slipped away, he realized something profound—his love was his own. It did not need to be returned to exist.
So instead, he smiled faintly and whispered, “Then let’s just sit here for a while.”
A long silence followed, but Taka didn’t push anymore.
He simply stayed.
“Takeru,” after a while, he said softly, concern in his voice. “I miss you.”
A sad smile graced his lips as he whispered, “I’m sorry for making you worry.” He clenched the petals he had coughed up earlier. Their scent was faint now, the petals wilting between his trembling fingers. He exhaled slowly, the weight in his chest pressing heavier than before.
Taka’s heart clenched at Takeru’s words. He had never seen him this fragile before, never seen his usually bright eyes so dull.
“You don’t have to apologize.”
Takeru swallowed, his throat raw, the taste of petals still lingering like a cruel reminder. He forced another smile—soft, almost apologetic.
“I know,” he murmured. “And that’s why… I can’t tell you.”
Taka’s frown deepened. “Can’t tell me what?”
Takeru’s fingers curled around the fragile petals in his palm. He wanted to say it. To finally speak the words choking him—literally killing him. But if he did… if he let himself hope, only to be met with silence or pity—
He exhaled shakily. “Nothing,” he lied.
Taka studied him, something unreadable in his gaze, but he didn’t push. Instead, he reached out, brushing away a stray cherry blossom petal caught in Takeru’s hair.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he said softly. “But at least… let me stay.”
Takeru’s breath hitched. His grip on the petals loosened.
For the first time, he wasn’t sure if the ache in his chest was from the flowers— or from the love he was trying so desperately to bury.
“That’s enough.”
And as the cherry blossoms danced in the wind, Takeru closed his eyes, breathe slowly leaving him and feeling for the first time in a long while, at peace.