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Pangi trudged through the thick layer of snow that covered the ground. The cold air soothing the sting plaguing his throat. No matter how warm suited his body was, he still enjoyed the snowy plains. He found comfort in how barren it was, not having to navigate the thick brush of a forest.
The chill stung at his open arms. Pangi had left in a rush, desperate to get a break outside. Neglecting to change from his average attire, which wasn't exactly fitted for the climate. He breathed in the clean air, letting out a shuddering exhale.
He tried his hardest to hold back his coughing, it was starting to become routine. Stifling his sickness the best he could. It was awkward every time he got himself caught in a coughing fit. People staring as he tried to compose himself. Picking him apart as he struggled to choke down a health potion.
It was embarrassing how long the cold had lasted. He couldn't count how many times he wrecked his throat coughing up phlegm and… blood. The blood was a newer development, but he did his best to bury his worry in the depths of his mind. If he let that feeling sit, he would run the risk of panicking other players. Which was the last thing he wanted to do.
He coughed again, being thrown back into reality. Keeping his mouth covered with his arm, trying to keep up his walking pace. Pangi's throat burned, taking short breaths in between his hacking. Tears pricked at his eyes as he squeezed them shut.
"F-" A cough, "Fuck-" he tried to catch his breath.
Breathing was getting harder with every cough. He took a kneel into the snow, soaking his clothes from his knees down. Pangi continued muttering various curses, covered by each painful gag. Digging his nails into the flesh of his palm. He choked out a warm liquid into his mouth, swiftly gasping it out into the snow.
He slowly caught his breath, his throat relishing in the cold air.
Pangi peeked his eyes open, looking to the ground.
Blood.
Blood soaked into the pale snow, contrasting the dull landscape with gore.
In the red, laid petals. Blue petals laced in crimson.
Pangi stared wide eyed at the dirtied snow, his hands beginning to tremble.
"Oh my god." He breathed out, his voice wavering.
His head was spinning as he stood, as he struggling to keep himself upright. Pangi kicked snow over the blood. Desperately trying to cover up any trail of his sickness. He fumbled through his inventory, landing on his elytra. A way out.
Wrapping his hand around a rocket, he set off. The wind harsh against his scaled arms.
He ignored the burning in his lungs.
Derapchu really, really needed to stop pining over Pangi. He kept slipping up, and god was it embarrassing. Feeling that stupid excitement swirl in his chest every time they spoke. Whenever they joked and laughed, he suppressed the urge to just lean over and kiss him. Pangi was just so close. If he just bridged that gap—
Fuck.
His face was burning. Derapchu needed to get over this stupid juvenile crush he had.
Okay— He was just going to organize some chests, do some brain numbing busy-work, get his mind off him. Derapchu needed a distraction—
"Hey… bro!" Pangi greeted, his voice sounding weirdly raspy.
Speak of the devil.
Derapchu glanced over the other man, lingering a little longer than acceptable. Pangi looked… unkempt. His hair was messy, his sunglasses offset, and his pants were soaked. He spotted a bit of red on the corner of Pangi's lips, which he tried not to stare at for too long, failing.
"Dude, are you good?" Derapchu pried.
"Oh— yeah! I'm fine man!"
"You have like- blood on you."
"What?" Pangi laughed off.
Derapchu wiped the blood from Pangi's lip. Only just then realizing how much he'd overstepped.
"Oh shit sorry!" He spoke, lightening the blow as much as he could. He took a step back, trying to create a reasonable distance in-between them.
"Hah— how'd that get there?" Pangi smiled halfheartedly, not seeming to notice Derapchu's panic.
"I've still got that cold, maybe it's from that." Pangi spoke awkwardly, his breathing becoming more uneasy.
"I don't know how you'd get blood from a cold, but whatever." Derapchu joked. Not seeming to land well with the other man. Watching him shift anxiously foot to foot.
"I've— hah— I've um… kind of been… coughing up blood?" Pangi stuttered, Derapchu's eyes widening in return.
"Dude- what?!" Derapchu exclaimed.
"It's not that big of a deal—" He excused, a small amount of panic in his tone.
"Not that—? Bro!" He grabbed a health potion from his inventory, shoving it into Pangi's hands.
"Drink!!" Derapchu half-shouted. Doing his best to ignore the lingering buzz on his fingers where their hands met.
"I- thanks." Pangi breathed, accepting the drink, taking a quick swig of it.
"Wouldn't want you to loose a heart over a fucking cold, man." He jabbed.
"Yeah… that'd suck." Pangi chuckled.
Pangi had been… concerningly absent. Derapchu hadn't even gotten as much as a glimpse of him— at least since he'd awkwardly run into him a few days ago. It wasn't that long to go without seeing a friend. But Pangi was always there! He was always just a short text away, and most of the time Derapchu could walk right up to him! It was weird not seeing him, and he was never one to ghost someone out of the blue.
Derapchu had every right to be worried! He couldn't help but run over every word he spoke in their last conversation. He could've said something weird, but he was having trouble figuring out what that could have been. It would've been hard to pull that off between the two of them.
On the off-chance, maybe he had said something weird. He couldn't exactly pin down what would turn him away so egregiously, though. He'd been so… distant in that conversation. Something about it set him off. He knew Pangi was sick, but why not at least tell him that he was gonna be away? Or at least hiding out somewhere in their base.
Maybe he'd gift him something, to ease any possible distrust. A way of saying 'I care about you.', Derapchu shuddered after that thought. Why couldn't he just bury these feelings? They kept clawing their way through his mind, eating away at him. His nails scratched at his arm before he could continue spiraling. Right, a gift. An offering to soothe Derapchu's worries about Pangi. He was hoping to give him something to dull his symptoms, some soup, or a health potion. They'd been running low on those anyway.
Soup seemed easy enough to pull off, also with it being the sick food. Derapchu would just have to find Pangi, and there was a place he had failed to check.
All he could taste was blood. Spitting up petal after petal was wearing on him. Pangi's throat screamed, his lungs burning with hot, scorching pain.
A few light knocks echoed off the walls of his room. Accompanied by a soft, clear voice.
"Pangi? You in there bro?"
Ah, it was Derap.
"…Yeah?" He croaked, raising his voice as much as it would allow. Which wasn't a lot.
"I was uh… wondering if you'd like me to make you some soup or something?" He asked, his voice muffled by the door.
"Oh— sure— if you'd like to!" Pangi agreed, cheerfully, trying to cover how exhausted he was.
"Alright." Derapchu exhaled, softly padding away from his room.
He stood from his bed, shivering. As much as he wanted to lay back down and curl up under his blankets, he needed to make sure his room was clean. It wasn't like he could leave the petals lying around. They were a dead giveaway that something was horribly, horribly wrong.
The blood came off of his hands pretty easily, a wet cloth did a fine job. Pangi gathered the red-soaked tissues from around his room, shoving them into a trash bin, along with the petals. Once Derapchu left, he'd have a shot to burn them.
A wave of dizziness swept over him, almost knocking him off his feet. Pangi knew that hanahaki disease made flowers bloom in people's lungs, but nobody ever seemed to mention how helpless it made the person. No amount of health potions and rest could save him. Pangi was just left to rot. Slowly withering away.
He never thought the feelings he buried so far down would be the ones to lead him to his end. His feelings taunted him, with every breath he took, every word he spoke, every step he walked. Those feelings breathed down his neck, reminding him of his fate.
Pangi laid back down onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Another shiver ran through him, he couldn't muster up the strength to grab himself a blanket. Maybe he'd force Derapchu to get him one, he softly chuckled at that thought.
The thought of Derapchu made him a little warmer, even if he cringed thinking that. He didn't have the energy to unpack his emotions. Nor did he have the hearts to. The flowers would choke him if he tried.
Derapchu was happy that Pangi had accepted his offer, but god he felt stupid. He hoped one of these days Pangi would realize he had a thing for him. So he didn't have to do some mushy confession that just ended in heartbreak.
He needed to start on the soup anyways. There was no use dwelling on his feelings. it would only make them sting more.
It wasn't anything fancy. A very basic chicken noodle soup. He'd snuck in some oxide daisy into it to add a small amount of the regeneration effect. Hopefully that mixed with a health potion would make Pangi feel less under the weather, and cheer him up a bit.
Derapchu knocked on Pangi's door with his free hand, balancing a bowl of soup in the other.
"Can I come in?"
"—Yeah, the door's unlocked!" Pangi chirped.
He turned the handle and took a few steps into his room.
"I made soup." Derapchu stated plainly. Handing Pangi a bowl as he sat up from his bed.
Seeing Pangi there in front of him was relieving. He still couldn't help but notice how disheveled he looked. Even with his thick sunglasses blocking his eyes, Derapchu could still spot an unmistakable look of exhaustion plaguing him. A stark feeling of worry gathered in his chest.
"Are you alright man? You're not looking great— like more than just uh… 'sick'." He tried his best to keep fear from his tone, covering it with a half-smile.
"Oh. Err— Yeah! I just gotta sleep more y'know?" Pangi explained, trying to hide his fatigue.
Derapchu nodded back at him, just then realizing the lack of spoons he'd brought.
"Shit— I forgot something, give me a second." He sighed, silently berating himself.
Pangi sighed softly as Derapchu left, trying to stifle his coughing. Keeping up his facade of 'just sick' was draining. The taste of iron lingered on his tongue. He desperately tried to ignore the flowers scratching at his throat; he couldn't choke them up with Derapchu so close.
He clenched his jaw shut, letting out shallow, unsteady breaths. His lungs ached. He couldn't help but cough, trying to rid his body of the flowers. Pangi covered his mouth, concealing the blood it contained.
Fuck.
Thorns tore at his throat as he vomited up flower after flower. Tears formed in his eyes, his lungs burning. Panic clawed at his chest. He was going to know. He couldn't do anything— he was helpless to the plants piercing his flesh.
His breath slowly evened as he choked up the final flower, staring at the blood coating his hands. Spit ran down his chin, tinted slightly red. Defeat flowed through his veins, tears blurring his vision. Pangi's heartbeat pounded in his ears.
He choked out a quiet sob, tasting metal. He couldn't do this.
Derapchu stared.
Stared at the blood on his friend's hands, at the petals that laid around him, at the tears that fell from his eyes.
Instinctively, he stepped forward.
Pangi kept his eyes down as Derapchu sat beside him. He hovered a hand over Pangi's back, shaking. The touch seeming almost daunting.
Was that what he needed right now? What did he need? Did he need him here? Was he making it worse? He'd never dealt with this before, what was he supposed to do? His thoughts rushed in his head.
A small sob came from the man next to him. Derapchu's stomach dropped. His body filling with sympathy. He'd been hiding this— he'd been suffering.
His hand found its home on Pangi's back, slowly wrapping his arms around him.
"Fuck, I'm sorry man…" He spoke, almost wincing at how soft his voice sounded.
"Don't— Don't be sorry." Pangi mumbled, coughing.
Pangi hesitantly returned his embrace, gently placing his hands to Derapchu's torso. If the circumstances were different, he would've melted into his touch.
"I'm getting— hah— blood on your sweater." He breathed out, a small smile on his lips.
"Who— who is it bro?" Derapchu pried, concern prominent in his tone.
"Oh." Pangi sighed, stifling back his coughing. He pulled away from Derapchu's arms, sliding his sunglasses off his face. Leaving red prints on the lenses.
"I— I don't know— I can't… tell you." He stuttered, his words muffled by clenched teeth.
"I- you? You can't tell me-? Dude, I don't care who you're in love with! I just don't want you to die!" Derapchu scolded, his voice sounding desperate.
Derapchu did care. He cared a lot about who he loved.
It should've been him.
Nails dug into his palm before he could continue his thought. That was a selfish thing to think. Who was he to tell Pangi who he loved?
"I'd rather that." He stated, seeming almost defeated.
"Bro! I can— I can help you—!" Derapchu begged, becoming more irritated as the conversation continued.
"You can't… You can't help me, man." Pangi spoke hopelessly.
He grabbed onto Pangi's shirt, staring into his eyes.
"Dude. Tell me who it is. Please." Derapchu pleaded, digging his nails into the fabric.
"I— fine, man." He sighed, his hand trembling enough for the other man to notice.
"Derap— It's— It's you." Pangi confessed, the coughing starting once-more.
Derapchu felt his chest tighten.
"You're… You're fucking with me." He deflected, he couldn't wrap his head around it. This couldn't be real.
"I'm not— I'm sorry! I can't keep— lying to you anymore!" Pangi managed out between his coughs.
"I know you don't— see me the same…" He sighed, wincing as he spoke.
"I never said that dude!" Derapchu exclaimed, taking his grip off of Pangi.
He stared at him in disbelief for a moment.
"…What?"
"Fuck this, man." Derapchu groaned.
He pulled Pangi into a short kiss, tasting the blood on his lips. Warmth spread through his chest, leaning into the touch. He placed a hand to his head, steadying himself.
Pangi pulled away from their embrace for a moment, softly laughing.
"Dude. I'm a fucking idiot." He laughed out, his voice finally sounding relaxed. Derapchu laughed along with him.
"I'm just glad you didn't die, bro!" Derapchu added.
Pangi just smiled at him, relief washing over the two.
Maybe this didn't have to end in heartbreak.