Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There was something utterly captivating about Pin.

it wasn’t just how funny or considerate or even how beautiful she was– She was strong, bold, courageous, truly encompassing what it meant to be a leader, and that much was clear from the way all eyes were on her when she spoke.

Her smile, her voice, her natural leadership. Every part of her demanded attention.

And Coiny was willing to give it all. He always had.

As her best friend, Coiny cared about Pin more than anything or anyone. Yet, maybe the extent of how much he cared for her deemed suspicious, because It was one particular night, under a basket, that Coiny finally put a name to the feelings and thoughts that had him in a chokehold.

Pin worried about something so insignificant: their team’s reliance on Loser. Even with how amazing Loser was, Coiny knew Pin had far better leadership capabilities than him. Better than anyone.

“You compute, we both execute. Ahh, it’s fantastic!!”

Her creased brows lifted.”So, you’re saying…?”

Coiny’s heart fluttered as a ghost of a smile appeared on her face and he wrapped an arm around her, their faces so close he could observe how the muscles in her expression relaxed under the dim light Firey provided.

“Look, Loser’s a great guy, a fantastic guy, a perfect guy even! But, just look at you and me– We’ve got a whole BFDIA’s worth of experience under our collective belt, and even when it comes time, we won’t hesitate to let it show.”

He leaned in so that their faces were now mere inches apart. His heart pounded against him so vigorously as if trying to escape the confines of his chest and the air under the basket suddenly felt so much hotter when a blush formed across his face. The palm that rested against the side of Pin’s body was clammy with sweat. Coiny hoped she hadn't noticed.

”There’s nothing to be afraid of Pin. I promise.”

He said that to calm her down,

…so why did Coiny's own heart drop at those words?

”That…That really means a lot.”

The shakiness in her voice steadied into a lovely sound. Coiny's heart skipped a beat, either from that rush of blissful adrenaline pumping through his veins or from that sudden drop of his gut that sank deeper and deeper.

A smoothness tickled the back of his throat. He held back a cough and pushed that feeling aside, because nothing mattered in that moment but Pin.

“Aw, it's nothing!”

Yet…Why did that feeling intensify as he held Pin closer to him?

“Now wanna go gosh about our favorite cube with the rest of us losers?”

“You bet!”

Coiny never liked losing. Who did? But when Bell smashed through the basket and infected Clock with the twinkle, he really couldn’t care less about the status of their team. The Losers had separated from challenge grounds, each walking off their separate ways to rest and reflect, but Coiny couldn't think of anything besides her– the way his arm wrapped around her body and how she leaned into him– Pin plagued his mind so often he was sure there was a compartment in his brain specifically for her. But each thought of that staccato voice, of that fierce presence; Each thought of blueberry seeds or ooze or rockets or tug of war or-

On this chilly night, under the flickering lights of the night sky, Coiny finally named the warmth reserved for Pin and only Pin-

He loved her.

But why was it, after what should’ve been a happy moment of epiphany, that his body screamed something was wrong?

Why was it that his throat itched and convulsed against a foreignness deep within his throat and he began to cough?

Why was it,

that when the coughing stopped, a lone, red petal escaped his lips, laid on the crevice of his elbow?

“What the—?”

The petal laid innocently, as if it merely landed on him from a gust of wind and not from the depths of his own throat. He picked it up with two delicate fingers, as delicate as the petal itself, smoothness rubbing underneath his fingertips.

Did he accidentally swallow a flower petal? It was the only possibility he could think of, but the petal was a bright red, unlike any flower he’d seen in the area. Had it somehow drifted from somewhere else and coincidentally landed in his mouth? Maybe it was mixed into a pile of dirt used for his dirt cake?

This was too absurd. Yet, there was something familiar about the petal. The color itself was a specific shade of red he'd long grown fond of. A shade of red he could recognize from a mile away.

The color almost looked like…

Like…

Another cough, loud and scratchy left his throat, and along with it, a new petal, as bright of a red as the first one flew out and landing beside him to decorate the green grass with a splotch of red.

His gut dropped. Something in him told him that none of this was normal.

But Coiny eats random things all the time, like dirt and gasoline. The possibility of him accidentally eating a petal or two wasn’t completely off the table, so he brushed that gnawing feeling aside, because there was no use in worrying over something as inconsequential as two, tiny petals.

These days, it seemed Pin was more anxious than ever.

And that was a weird thing to get used to, considering that when Coiny thought back to some of his fondest memories with her, he’d think back to a ruthless, drilling machine, unable to be shaken by anyone or anything. Clearly, those days had long passed; That Pin was a product of the past.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

Here Coiny was, sitting on the grass with Pin, rubbing a hand on her back in an attempt to soothe her worries.

Ooze ran down Pin’s back and her words shook in unison with her body, “But it's our first time up for elimination. You can’t be so sure we’ll be safe.”

“Yes I can, Pin. The viewers love us! We’ll be fine, I promise.”

Pin gently pushed him away. “Yeah, they love you.”

Her face averted from his when her hands fell to the grass below, fidgeting. Her ooze dripped down to coat the grass beneath her, neon green against emerald green, and her body shook.

A pang of rejection jolted through Coiny. He ignored it, continuing, “They love us. I mean, how could they not??”

“They wanted me out in BFDIA…I was horrible back then.“

Pin hunched forward, slouching. Her fingers intertwined, fidgeting as she mumbled, “I got the most dislikes ever. The viewers they…” Her voice was awfully steady for how violently she shook, “They hate me.”

She looked up, eyes looking deep into Coiny’s own.

“Clearly that's something you never had to deal with.”

Coiny leaned in. “I’m—“

What could he even say to that? It was true, Coiny never doubted the viewers loved him, and he never feared elimination because of it.

His voice came out small,

“—I’m sorry.”

And a smoothness trickled up his throat.

“You’re right, I never had to deal with that, but you’re not the same as back then. I mean, you haven't drilled into anyone’s face this season.”

She kept her gaze away. “That’s not funny.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop.” Sheepishly, he spoke, “But if I were a viewer, you’d be my favorite contestant. Well, you are my favorite contestant, even if you’re technically my competition.”

As if struck with a spell, Coiny’s gut dropped at those words, and something rose up his throat like stomach acid.

“Why’s that?” Pin finally looked his way.

But, of course, Pin’s mere existence demanded every ounce of his attention, so he pushed that inconsequential feeling back, words coming out strained,

“Because…l-look at you! You’re cool, strong, funny,”

The blockage in his throat continued to rise, and his words stifled the more he rambled,

“You’re courageous, determined, and not to be biased, but you’re the best looking object here! I-I mean, seriously…if that isn't enough to make the viewers love you, then they wouldn’t know perfection if it slapped them across the face.”

….

Silence. Not what Coiny was expecting after one of his usual monologues.

Pin simply stared, “...Coin-y,” and muttered, “Are you ok?”

He shut his mouth.

“Your voice sounds kind of shaky.” Pin watched him for a few, long seconds. Her hand flew to her mouth and she gasped when that flash of realization hit her.

"Are you gonna cry? OMPF, I’m so sorry! I was being too harsh, wasn’t I?!”

“What, No–”

Coiny interrupted himself to cough into his elbow. Thankfully, the cough sounded normal enough, but the two flower petals that fell from his elbow onto the grass were…anything but normal. Even with the sun overhead, chills formed across his body.

What the hell?

“-I just had to cough. Haha…” Coiny angled himself, and from Pin’s position, she could only see sweating copper and not the specks of red behind him that bore an unruly familiarity. He cleared his throat. That gut-wrenching feeling spread throughout him like poison.

Is this normal?

“Oh, Coin-y!” Pin shoved him playfully. “I got worried!”

That gut-wretching venom subdued when the corners of Pin’s mouth lifted into that beautiful expression Coiny had come to long for. That expression that demanded everything the world had to offer and more.

He gave her a smile of his own, wider than her delicate one. And for a moment, everything was perfect.

Until that blockage rose up again in his throat

His throat burned, breathing stifled,

“Pin” —he brought his elbow to his mouth— “I-I gotta go.”

He got up and gave Pin so much as a wave and a “Sorry!” before running off, his apology fading into the distance as he headed off to who-knows-where. If Coiny had looked back, he’d see Pin, merely watching after him and blinking in confusion, but he didn’t, because his legs ran and ran and ran, and somehow, he ended up behind the bathrooms.

No one was here, he presumed, but even that was unclear from how blurred his senses were, as if his mind had been fogged with steam. His vision blurred. He panted, triggering another coughing fit that took his whole body into a tight hold and practically squeezed out the little air in him and he was sure he was going to die because the blockage in his throat made it near impossible to breathe.

He coughed once more, whole body shaking.

And a wave of relief washed over him once the blockage came out to manifest as several bright red petals, soaking in a puddle of his own saliva. When he took a deep breath in, the crisp air burned in his lungs.

He grimaced.

Seriously, what was happening? Did he swallow a whole flower? Or Pin’s flower seeds?

He slumped, knees falling to the ground, pale face staring blankly at the puddle of petals. It was funny, really, because if he didn't consider the fact that the saliva and petals came from his own mouth, the sight in front of him could’ve been oddly beautiful.

“Gosh…”

A tiny voice that wasn't his filled the empty air and Coiny jolted, getting up on his feet.

That meek voice came from his left, he soon realized, and when he turned around to see Book, her eyebrows practically lifted up above her head.

She put her hands up defensively. “I-I didn't mean to scare you!”

His voice came out rough when he asked, “Did you see that?”

“You coughing up red things?...Yeah, I did.”

Great.

Book stepped closer, and that's when the details of the puddle became clearer. She froze. “What is that?”

Then she stepped closer. “Are those flower petals?”

“Uhhhh…” Coiny’s eyes averted to the side. “Noooo…??”

“Those are most definitely flower petals! How did you cough them up??”

“I didn’t cough anything up.”

“You did.” Book stared deep into Coiny’s eyes. He didn’t look back. “How did that happen?”

“I don’t know, ok?! Just don’t tell anyone.”

He lowered his head and his eyes finally met Book’s. She stayed silent, face falling flat besides a small pout of her lip. Humming, she brought a finger to her mouth.

“Hmmm, y’know, I think there’s a medical term for this.”

Coiny blinked. “Medical term?” He laughed, “What, do I have, like, the flower coughing sickness, or something?”

She ignored the incongruence of his laughter. “Something along those lines, yes.”

Coiny paused, laughter fading into the air that now sent chills over his copper. “You’re not being serious, right? I was just joking.”

“Well I am a medical encyclopedia. Let me have a look…”

Book opened herself up to flip through her pages, “uh, not this one,” and flipped some more, “No. No—aha!” until she landed on a specific page, lengthy and without pictures. She trailed a finger through the text and pointed at the header of the page:

Hanahaki Disease

Book moved her finger underneath the header and onto the text, moving her finger along as she read out loud,

“Hanahaki disease is a disease in which flowers grow in an object's heart and lungs as a result of unrequited love.”

She took a second to pause, processing. Her hand shook, finger still dragging underneath the words as she continued to read,

“Symptoms include shortness of breath, nausea, weakened muscles, coughing and/or vomiting of flower petals or whole flowers. Little is known about the disease, and only 2 possible cures have been discovered:

1. A surgery procedure in which the roots, stems, and seeds of flowers in the affected object's body are removed, though this procedure erases all memory of an affected object’s ‘beloved’.”

Book’s finger lingered under the word ‘beloved’. She cleared her throat,

“or 2. The feelings of the affected object are reciprocated.

This disease is fatal, and if left untreated, the roots of the flowers will fully cement into an object’s heart and lungs, resulting in death from suffocation and heart failure. If experiencing symptoms, it’s advised to seek help as soon as possible.” There was still more text, but Book paused completely, as if refusing to finish reading.

The world stopped spinning. Book slammed herself shut and the cold air hit against Coiny’s face like an icy slap.

…Unrequited love?

He thought back to yesterday, when he had his arm wrapped around Pin, holding her like they were the only thing that mattered underneath that basket. Coiny coughed. The air grew heavy and his attention drifted upwards to gaze at the clouds drifting, by like normal as if nothing had happened.

Book pursed her lip. “Are you romantically interested in someone?”

Coiny could’ve scoffed at her in that moment. He should’ve. “I don’t have that weird disease. And this is none of your business anyways.”

The bite in his tone didn't turn Book away. “Does anyone else know about this?”

“If you mean me coughing up petals, no.”

Book took a long, careful second to pick her next words, “…Are you thinking of telling anyone? Or getting help?”

“No.” He intended to chuckle, but instead, it came out as a cough. “It’s fine.”

“How are you so sure?”

“I mean, if I die, I’ll just get recovered, right? Good as new.”

“It didn’t say anything about recovery in the text,” Book chided. She swallowed, continuing, “Flowers grow in your lungs and heart, and, based on the text, they become a part of you, so wouldn’t you just recover with the flowers in your system?”

Even when Coiny’s tone grew confident, there was a small quiver when he began to speak, “Pft, as if some flowers could kill me permanently. If I do have this disease, which I don’t, I’ll just die and recover like always.”

But there was a voice in the back of his mind, so tiny, so persistent, telling him that things wouldn’t ever be like always.

“I don’t know. I think you should be cautious from now on.” She smiled, eyes pitiful. “It wouldn't hurt to tell someone.”

He had enough. Enough of Book, enough talking about this stupid, trivial disease, enough of that pit in his stomach that seemed to sink so low it was weighing his entire mind and body down.

Coiny shook his head. “Uh, I don’t see the point in that. If I told someone, what if they get worried over nothing?”

“Well, I’m pretty worried, and this definitely is not nothing.” Book’s gaze was stern, even when her lip was quivering.

“Don’t be. You don’t even know me.”

Book crossed her arms, squinting. “I know you’re in denial.”

“I’m not!” His eyes widened for just a second, then his expression went back to its default, carefree look. “If you’re really worried about me, then do me a favor and don’t tell anyone about this. I don’t wanna cause a commotion just because I’m, what, coughing up petals? It’s stupid.”

“Coiny-” Book started, then ended her sentence with a sigh. "Ok, I won’t.”

Her presence always had a meekness to it, enticing Coiny to look down upon her even if she was the one pitying him and not the other way around.

“Just promise me if it gets bad, you’ll ask for help?”

He stayed silent.

It was hard to hide a disease overtaking your entire body, including your mind, especially when your best friend could look into your thoughts at any second and especially when most of your thoughts were about said best friend.

But, thankfully for Coiny, Pin respected his boundaries enough to where she wouldn’t look into his thoughts unprompted like that; It wasn’t like BFDIA anymore, afterall (something which Coiny had to keep reminding himself).

For the next few months after his encounter with Book, Coiny had instances where he'd need to excuse himself from The Losers or from Pin. Sometimes, he’d get the urge to cough, and by now, he could feel just how many petals lingered in his airways, but most times, It’d just be a few, trivial petals. Other times, though, when the universe wasn’t so kind, there’d be enough to construct a whole rose, petal by petal. The coughs were never pleasant, but at least they were somewhat tolerable. He’d gotten better at suppressing the urge. Suppressing the petals. His feelings. And when he couldn’t—when he’d swallow down the petals but they’d just rise back up, angrily— he’d turn around and cough them into his hand to toss them into the wind as if they belonged there and weren’t something grown deep within him.

But dear Mint, was this disease a hindrance! Especially during a competition!

The competition this time was to bring Four back, and that in itself was a daunting task; how could they bring back a mysterious, incredibly powerful alien?

Though, Coiny knew the right person for the task.

“I can’t. What if I mess up our only chance to bring Four back??”

"Aw, c'mon, please? I know you'd do a great job."

Him holding her hand was the most contact they've had in a while. The gesture was, for the most part, with the intention of comforting her, but in another part, something selfish he'd been yearning for—To simply hold her.

Pin was incredible, and Coiny wished she could see herself how he saw her.

When Pin pushed out the syringe to draw the shape of Four onto the ground, and when Four eventually blinked back into sentience to give Pin a blue token, The Losers stared in awe. Maybe they were surprised she could do it– but not Coiny. He knew better than anyone how capable Pin really was.

But, of course, this disease had to make itself known.

So that's why, behind the wide smile that faltered when he thought about how incredible Pin was, a cough threatened to expose itself, and he took the opportunity of his team crowding around Four to run away to behind the bathrooms where he knew no one would be.

He could feel it–the hold on his lungs with each breath he inhaled as he caught his breath after the run; could feel it when he finally let out that first cough. The air burned, filtered through the flowers that lodged themselves into his lungs. Into his heart. But it was ok. It’s ok he told himself in the middle of the coughing fit. It’s ok he told himself when he used the wall outside the bathrooms to support himself as he hacked, petals stumbling out his mouth onto the floor.

Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours. Once the final petal dislodged itself out his throat, he took in a big, burning, breath of fresh air.

…

"Great job, Pin!"

A high-pitched voice rang in the distance. Or maybe not–his hearing had muffled since the coughing fit, noises going in one ear and out the other. So he walked to the front of the bathrooms and rested his body against the wall to get a glimpse. Every ounce of strength he had was sucked up by the flowers in his system, it seemed, and from this position, he could spot a decently large crowd, all circling around an object with a recognizable point protruding out of the crowd. There was a gap which allowed him to notice Pin's face, and he could see the way she smiled so widely when everyone praised her; It was the most confident she'd looked in a long time. Her smile was dangerously contagious.

Coiny smiled back.

"You're amazing, Pin!"

And from that gap in the crowd, he could spot Needle, going up to the red object and wrapping her arms around Pin to encompass her in a hug. The familiar noise of Pin's laughter filled the air like a melody when Needle held Pin in her arms, picked her up high above the crowd, and twirled her around. As if they were lovers.

Coiny's heart dropped.

Even with his senses blurred, it was easy to spot the flush of pink that stuck out like a sore thumb across Needle's light gray face.

"Haha! Needle!”

There really wasn’t a reason to get jealous. He already knew Pin didn’t like him..yet..

Yet he was so stupid. Why hadn't he thought of it earlier? He could scream and cry and punch the wall behind him because the idea of someone else, harbouring those exact same feelings for her never crossed his mind until that very moment.

His eyes stung.

He never wanted to admit that he might've–no, he most definitely had this...hanahaki disease. Maybe he'd denied it for so long out of the absurdity of the situation. Maybe. But deep down, he knew—he was afraid. In part of what was going to happen to him, but mostly...because it meant he cared about Pin more than she cared about him.

They'd been friends for so long. But it'd always been just that. Friends. It was selfish of him to wish otherwise. He'd done everything he could for her—Didn't bat an eye when she instructed him to dig to the center of the earth because when it came to her, there was no such thing as “too much”.

"I'm so proud of you, Coin-y. We did this together."

She deserved the world.

It was selfish of him to expect those feelings to be reciprocated. Selfish of him to wish that, deep down, he was her everything, too.

"Hah..."

And he couldn't bear to look at the scene of Pin and Needle any longer.

So he ran. Ran into the bathrooms, to the sink. His vision began to blur, his chest heaved painfully, he tried to breathe as deep as he could, but the petals in his airway filtered most of the oxygen

But it's ok, he told himself, when he crouched over the sink to cough violently. It's ok it's ok It’s ok.

And something heavier, more dense than just a few flower petals could be, lodged in his throat. All the warning signals in Coiny’s body went off when that heavy object allowed for absolutely no air to enter his lungs.

The flowers always had this taste to them. Their texture was soft, a bit wet, and they tasted floral, exactly how they smelled. But this time, when it seemed like this coughing fit would drag on forever, there was another taste he couldn't quite recognize. It was bold, strong, slightly metallic.

A few final petals fell out before Coiny coughed out that blockage:

It was a rose.

A whole rose attached to a thorny stem, completely covered in a crimson liquid. Coiny soon realized, once his senses started to flicker back, that the white of the sink and the white of the tiled floor had also been dyed with splotches of crimson like red stars dotting a white sky. The aroma of iron and florals lingered in his mouth like a perfume and when he looked into the mirror above the sink, he noticed red liquid coating his bottom lip. He licked it off, tasting iron. His gut dropped.

….Blood?

Objects couldn’t necessarily, well, bleed; or so he thought. And even if they had organs, the idea that Coiny could cough out blood didn’t make any sense. But, to be fair, coughing up whole roses didn’t make sense either, and it seemed like this disease was messing with every part of his body, from his mind to even his internal structures, apparently.

There was a thin trail of blood running down the corner of his mouth and Coiny tried to wipe it away, but it only smudged on his exterior, tainting his shiny copper with deep red iron.

“Just, promise me, if it gets bad, you’ll ask for help?”

Book’s words from all those months ago rang through the static filling his head like an obnoxious alarm. Everything from that day rang in his mind: The text, unrequited love, the look of worry on Book’s obnoxious face; It all kept ringing, and ringing, and ringing.

And he thought back to the cures–To the surgery. To the idea that, if he wanted to get rid of this disease for good, he’d need to forget about Pin. Completely.

But a life without those memories wouldn’t be a life worth living.

This disease sure was making him sensitive, Coiny thought, when he looked back into the mirror and saw streams of tears run down his eyes.

Pathetic. This disease made him pathetic. He loved Pin so much it was killing him.

He wiped the remaining tears before picking up the petals and rose to throw them (more forcefully than necessary) into a toilet, flushing them down and watching the water turn a light pink. Then he walked back to the sink, the water cold when he splashed it onto his face like somehow it'd wash those thoughts away. Like it could wash the disease itself away. Puddles of water, clear and red, drenched the white tiled floors of the bathroom, but he couldn’t care less, and he walked out the bathrooms.

He was already tired of the color red.

"Coin-y!"

Or, so he thought.

Coiny wished that she was the last person he wanted to see, but really, he was always so happy to see her, even when his lungs burned at the sight of her.

"P-Pin," He spoke, voice cracking.

Pin ran up to him and gave him a quick hug. "I was wondering where you went.” Her strong arms held him in a tight hold, and his throat began to act up.

”But I wanted to thank you. For believing in me and talking me into recovering Four.”

Her embrace burned. As much as he wanted to get away from her, he allowed himself to be selfish as he wrapped his own arms around her.

"Y-Yeah." Was all he said. It was all he could say, voice shattering. It made sense that his disease would act up whenever Pin caused his heart to ache.

"Sometimes, I don't know what I'd do without you!”

"Dont-" He stifled a cough, resorting to swallowing the flower petals that threatened to creep up. "-Don't say that."

"Huh?" She loosened her grip on him, taking a glance at his face, his copper a shade lighter. “Why not?"

"Just, don't-." Coiny let go. He stumbled away from her hold and almost fell backwards from how little support his legs could muster to give him.

"Is something wrong?"

"No!" He practically yelled, straining his throat. "No...I need some time alone."

Pin’s eyes fell. Coiny tried to hate the tenderness in her gaze

"You can talk to me about anything Coin-y, ok?"

She smiled, and a part of Coiny wished she hadn’t, because that little expression alone was enough to stir up his heart and the flowers inside it.

"You're always there for me, and I want to be there for you, too."

"…I appreciate it," He spoke, voice uncharacteristically quiet. "But maybe later."

"Oh, ok."

Pin inched her hand closer to gently caress the top of his outer edge with a light brush of her fingertips. “Y'know, dessert always helps me when I'm feeling down."

The corners of her smile lifted to crinkle her eyes and Coiny had to swallow more petals because of it. "X set up a small kitchen in the field so I could make the cake for today’s Cake at Stake. There’s plenty of ingredients leftover; What are you in the mood for?" She asked, continuing to trail her fingers along each groove of his edge.

Of course Pin figured out something was up, but he ignored it in lieu of requesting, "...Brownies?"

"Hmm, ok. I think X did leave some cocoa powder somewhere…" She retracted her hand and Coiny instantly missed the way her fingers filled in the gaps of his edges.

"I'll whip up some brownies, just for you."

Just for you. She doesn't have to say it like that—Doesn't have to word everything to make Coiny's gut churn and feel like, deep within those words, was the very feeling he wished to be reciprocated.

He couldn't smile back. Not that he didn't want to, but from how shaken up he was, even the slightest move could trigger the petals that tickled the back of his throat, so he simply turned away to avoid eye contact, and he’d hoped that Pin would leave him because he couldn't bear the thought of him leaving her.

She merely watched him for a few more seconds. “Well, I’ll leave you alone. I’ll come looking for you once the brownies are done.”

Pin turned to walk off, and before she did, she waved and looked back at him with a smile so warm he was sure it could melt his metal.

He stood completely still, waiting.

And once the sound of footsteps crinkling in grass completely faded into the distance, he began to cough.

Chapter Text

The night and grass were pitch black, and Coiny saw Pin for the first time since lava left the land charred and lifeless.

But, even with his breaths constrained and heart aching, Coiny was convinced. Convinced that, somehow, the lava had burnt the flowers, because for the first day after the incident, he hadn’t coughed at all. Not a single petal. Though, he was proven wrong when he felt those tiny stabs, taunting him when his eyes landed on Pin. Some of his teammates had just been recovered after dying from the lava, and Pin was seemingly unphased by what just happened.

He went up to her, holding back the urge to cough. "Welcome back.”

She smiled. “Hi. Thanks. Must be nice to be lavaproof.”

“On occasion, yeah.”

She laughed, Coiny stifled a cough, and then she blinked and took a quick scan of the charred field, as if taking in the entirety of her surroundings with one swift glance— though there wasn’t much to take in. Her gaze landed a few ways back, onto the newest member of The Losers.

“Did Leafy get recovered before us?”

“Leafy? She’s been alive the whole time.”

“Really? Huh.”

Just saying her name could summon her, it seemed, because mere seconds later, Leafy walked up to them to wrap her arm around Pin and pull her into a friendly side hug.

“Hey guys! Welcome back, Pin!”

“Uh, hi. Thanks…”

Coiny waved. “Hey Leafy!”

It wasn’t easy to tell when Leafy feigned optimism, yet Coiny noticed how her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Leafy’s voice rang, “Isn’t it a lovely night?”

“Not really. Everything is burnt,” Pin replied, face flat.

“But that’s besides the point, Pin!” Leafy’s freehand moved up Pin’s plastic to poke the tip of her point. Pin let out a startled sound, half gasp, half groan. “We get to experience this night together, as friends! That’s what makes it lovely!”

“Uhhh, yeah, I guess.”

“Yeah!” Coiny pumped his fist “We haven’t talked in a while. Let’s hangout, Leafy!”

Leafy’s face lit up at the words and she squeezed Pin closer, as if she physically couldn’t contain her excitement and had to emanate . Pin grunted.

“Ooh, sounds fun! What should we do? Should we make friendship bracelets? Or eat gumdrops? Or-” Leafy’s eyes followed a warm light towards the back, standing out in the midst of the darkness like a singular star. “-Or we could just…stay here and talk.”

Coiny sat down. The grass beneath him crumbled to ash. “Yeah, let’s catch up!”

Leafy let go of Pin to sit down. Pin sighed and reluctantly sat by Coiny, and Leafy took the opportunity to scoot closer towards Pin.

The air grew awkward for a few, slow seconds.

“How’d you survive the lava?” Pin asked.

“Oh. Uh–”

Leafy’s eyes went back to that star that was walking away, now so far it was just a tiny speck of light. “–-I did almost die at one point, but…Firey. He saved me.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t get why he even helped me. He saved me just for us to argue right after.”

Coiny’s scoffed. “Firey’s an idiot.”

Leafy had a habit of hiding her true feelings, Coiny realized– her smiles strained at the edges more often than not, and her cheerful voice would falter for just a second too long. It seemed even she had a hard time hiding how she truly felt.

“Hey.”

Pin’s voice came out soft when she wrapped her arm around Leafy. They hadn’t talked properly in years, and Pin couldn’t remember the last time they were this close to where the thinness of Leafy’s edge contorted against her side, melding against her perfectly. If Coiny were in Leafy’s position, he would clank against Pin’s side awkwardly.

Pin smiled. “Just forget about him for now.”

Leafy smiled back.

The night smelled of ash and char, and for a second, Coiny could pretend that the burn in his lungs came from the environment and not his own feelings. He choked down a cough.

“—Coiny?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“I asked where you were during the challenge.” The smile Leafy wore now reached her eyes. “Where were you running back from?”

“Uhh– oh, I came from Golf Ball’s underground factory.” He shrugged. “I thought I was dead the entire time.”

Pin interjected, “Well, you are metal.” And when she turned to face Leafy directly– arm still wrapped firmly around her and Leafy’s body melding to Pin’s cylindrical body– Pin’s voice trickled against her from just how close they were. “But I’m surprised you survived.”

Leafy snorted. “I out-lived you~!”

“Wh- You just got lucky!!”

Leafy wrapped her own arm around Pin, and with the way they laughed in synch and held each other like they were the only ones in the world…they really were close, weren’t they? Even with years of distance, they fell right back into a routine established years and years ago, when they were best friends. When Coiny wasn’t in the picture.

Coiny couldn’t say how much time had passed. He’d hear Leafy’s voice, then Pin’s, then static. They didn’t look at him once, took turns talking in between them, and Coiny bunched up a handful of grass that disintegrated into ash in his grip.

He was jealous.

In the time Pin and Leafy were talking, Coiny stood up, apparently, and he only knew that when Pin’s voice cut through the fog that were his thoughts.

“Coin-y? Are you leaving?”

“...Huh?” His legs wobbled as he stood over the two other objects. “...Oh, yeah…‘m tired. Long day.”

“Right. ” Pin’s smile stabbed through him. “Goodnight.”

Maybe it would’ve been in his best interest to be discreet, but in that moment, he only managed one stumbling step before breaking into a desperate sprint towards the bathrooms. Discretion didn’t matter anymore– one more second with them, and the red vomit and petals dispelled into the toilet bowl would’ve landed by their feet.

Maybe it would’ve been in his best interest to be discreet, because he didn’t go unnoticed.

“Pin?? Did you hear what I just said?”

“...Sorry, what was that? I got distracted..”

The next day, when sun and blue skies colored the black of the night, Coiny decided he'd try to cheer himself up. There was no use sulking all the time, and maybe there was something he could find to distract himself from roots digging into him and petals beginning to bloom.

Everything was charred, save for the bathrooms. A few objects he couldn’t care enough to take note of were standing or sitting by the bathrooms, either pacing and observing the dead land, or talking leisurely as if what happened were a normal occurrence.

There'd been weirder occurrences in Goiky, that's for sure.

Coiny didn’t take the time to observe the surroundings last night– By now, most of the grass had crumbled and left specs of ash drifting in the air. He walked over to the bathrooms, the grass matching the familiar black of the walls Coiny had hid behind so often.

“Wait, so how did the lava just…go away??”

“I heard Flower pressed a button that sucked it all up. Just- poof! All gone! I wonder how she knew to do that– Oh, Coiny!”

When he turned the corner, he caught sight of Gaty and Saw, huddled close to a dead tree. He wasn’t too familiar with them, probably because they were on different teams, but they waved as if he were a friend

“It’s grEIGHT to see you! I feel like you’re not around all that much.”

Gaty nodded. “Yeah, I barely see you.”

Because half the time I’m in the bathrooms dying, Coiny thought. He stayed quiet.

Saw watched him, hands held politely in front of her. “...Well, you survived, right? Perks of being metal! Heh.”

“Yeah,” Coiny said.

There wasn’t much to discuss between them. The atmosphere grew thick with tension and particles of ash flying about. A voice cut through the silence–

“Hi team! You two seem to be doing good.”

Gaty and Saw groaned, and Coiny almost joined them when he turned–

“Hiiii Book.”

The last time he and Book had a proper conversation, behind the very bathroom they were standing in front of, discoveries were made, and a new secret bloomed between them two and only them two. In truth, he loathed her for it. Loathed Book, because only she knew of his deteriorating state, and he almost turned and left until he noticed that familiar shade of red in his peripheral.

The longer Coiny had this disease, the more his senses distorted– The blacks of the atmosphere had all blended into one ashy blur, and the voices of other (irrelevant) objects would have a slight muffle to them. But, even then, the flowers had picked a favorite, and they’d make an exception just for her:

“Hi Coin-y.”

He gulped. Each detail, from the shine of her point to the quiver at the corner of her smile, was on crystal-clear display. He couldn't muster the courage to greet her back.

“Hi Saw, Gaty.”

“Hey Pin!” They both greeted with far more enthusiasm than their greeting directed towards Book.

Book cleared her throat. “Wow, that lava killed everything, right? Haha…”

Small talk wasn’t Book’s forte. Clearly. Coiny groaned.

When there was no response, Book continued. “...Haha, yeah, I ended up dying early on, when the lava first came up. I’m glad you three were ok!”

There were practically sparkles in Pin’s eyes when she faced Book. “To save Taco and Icy, right? That’s quite heroic.”

“Ahaha, no no no, I owed it to them.”

“…I hate to admit it, but you’ve always been so admirable, Book.” Pin’s eyes widened like she didn’t mean to voice those thoughts, then she smiled at her– a smile with so much admiration Coiny had to look away in fear of exposing his disease right then and there.

“Wwh- really?”

Gaty and Saw piqued in union, “Really??”

“Yeah. Even since BFDIA, you’d always been so selfless.” Coiny wasn’t used to seeing Pin act so…bashful. Her hands hid behind her back and she stared down at the black land, a dusting of pink spreading across her red plastic. “I should be more like you, Book.”

“Ah, nonono! Y-You’re great the way you are Pin! But…thank you.”

Blush never looked good on Book— the red would muddy the hues of her green and blue cover— and at that moment, Coiny noted how ugly she looked when her entire cover flushed.

It was starting to get annoying how routine that pang of jealousy became.

Coiny rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You two are friends?”

“Oh, uh–”

“I’d say we are!” Book shifted her attention towards Pin. “Right?”

Pin retained her warm smile. “Yeah.”

Pin looked deep into Book’s eyes, Book looked deep into Pin’s eyes.

And Coiny coughed.

He coughed again, and again, and again. He tried to swallow, tried to stop the coughs before they could reach the surface, but he was too weak, and the petals were too stubborn. He covered his cough with a hand, petals subsequently landing in his palm.

By habit, Coiny would’ve gone into the bathroom, but with everyone huddled by the entrance, he was hesitant. If they heard him vomiting and decided to walk in, how could he explain the red? The roses?

When the petals settled, all eyes were on him.

“Sorry, heh, the ash–” he coughed, “There sure is a lot of it, huh?”

“Jeez, you’re right.” Saw’s voice shook. “I hope this won’t affect our breathing. I’ve suffered enough from inhaling 8-Ball’s fumes!’

“8-Ball’s fumes?” Pin asked. “What? What do you mean?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you about it! Wait, Gaty, do you remember how it happened?”

“Yeah. So, after 8-Ball got eliminated–”

Coiny tuned out the pointless conversation; at least they weren’t paying attention to him anymore. He looked down at his hand, clenched tight to hide the flower petals from his coughing fit, then looked up, and was met with the ugly sight of Book, who had walked closer towards him.

“Hi, Coiny. Can we talk?”

“Uh, why?”

She pointed to his clenched fist. “Because of that.”

Coiny looked at the rest of the group, all caught up in a conversation of their own, and with a groan and a nod he followed Book behind the bathrooms. Something about this gave him deja vu.

Book’s eyes darted down to the floor, to her hands fidgeting together, up to the sky– anywhere but him. “Have you been feeling ok? You're not usually so…sluggish.”

Coiny bit back a snarl. “I’m fine. Never better.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but you’re clearly not fine.” Book rubbed her arm. “Pin told me about how weird you’ve been acting. She was telling me how you randomly run off. Says you look frantic when you do.”

“Really, I’m fine. I just–” He coughed hoarsely into his elbow and two flower petals flew out to drift off into the breeze. Book’s gaze followed the petals.

“–I run off so no one else finds out. You haven’t said anything, have you?”

“No, I haven’t.” Book shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “So, you admit you have the disease? The hanahaki disease?”

Up to this point, he hadn’t admitted that directly. He laughed and denied it when Book first showed him the disease, but after months of living through those same symptoms written in Book’s pages, it seemed his denial faded, and now Coiny could see the truth he tried so hard to push away.

He clicked his tongue. “Why does it matter?”

“...It’s Pin, right?”

“What.”

“The one you like? And she doesn’t like you back?”

Was Book…amused?

There was amusement in her tone, and even with his hearing worsening, he was sure of it!!

So did Pin like…her?

Did Pin like Book of all people?!

Book waved her hands frantically, sputtering, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude! I-I’m just surprised!"

“Can– can you not?”

“I’m just worried–”

“That doesn’t give you a reason to be up in my business!”

“Coiny, I’ve seen petals exactly like yours! Sometimes in the bathroom, sometimes in the wind or in random spots on the grass– I’ve seen them everywhere!” Book lowered her shaky arms by her side. “That’s you, right? You promised you’d get help if it got bad.”

“I didn’t promise anything! And why do you care so much, huh?!”

Book was taller than Coiny, but the utter disdain in his voice scared Book into hunching in on herself, and Coiny seemed to tower over her trembling body. She’d never seen him like this.

“I said I’m worried! Super, incredibly, extremely worried! I really think you should tell Pin about what’s going on.”

Coiny laughed. “Why, so she can reject me?” His voice came out strained, scarily gruff when he asked, “You–You like her too, don’t you?”

“Wwh–”

Book’s eyes widened. She stood up straight, and Coiny's shaky body, which had been so intimidating mere seconds ago, appeared smaller than ever before. “Coiny, that's ridiculous! What’s gotten into you? Is the disease making you act this way???”

Petals scratched his throat. His body shook, and his fist unclenched, petals falling from his hand.

“Does Pin like you too?? Is that why you’re ridiculing me?!”

“None of that is true! You’re just…looking for someone to blame. I get this is scary, but you really should tell Pin–”

“-No!!!”

Book’s dual-toned cover blended into a singular color, then her cover blended into the scenery behind them. Book’s voice muffled. The footsteps that came closer to them muffled.

“Tell me what?”

Pin’s voice registered perfectly in his mind. “I don’t want to interrupt, but I heard yelling, and I just heard my name. Is everything ok?”

“Yeah-“

“-No! Coiny, you need to say something…”

“Coin-y? What does she mean?”

It was impossible for Coiny or Pin to lie to the other; even without telepathy, their thoughts and emotions laid out like ink upon pages, inscribed in a language only they knew.

But still, Coiny tried. “Nothing.”

With her arms crossed, Pin loomed over Coiny imposingly. “Can you be honest with me, please?”

He hated the thought of lying to her, but what could he even say? The truth? So, he did the only other thing he could do: he stayed silent.

Pin uncrossed her arms. Her eyes glued to him, awaiting something, but when Coiny didn’t continue, Pin’s eyes fell. “I don’t like the idea of you hiding something from me.”

“It’s nothing, ok?” He coughed. “I’m fine, Pin.”

“You– You’ve been worrying me a lot lately. You run off out of nowhere, and when you come back, you look…scared. Like you’ve seen a ghost or something.” Pin’s eyes bore into his own, and Coiny had to look away.

“Coin-y, remember months ago, when I asked you what was wrong, you said you’d tell me later? So can you tell me now, please?”

Pin’s stance was firm– hands on her hips, face stern. Yet, her eyes quivered, and a droplet of ooze gave way to her true emotions.

“I…”

What should he say? I’m dying, and the fate of my life rests in your hands?

He coughed once.

I’m dying because you don’t feel the same way?

Twice.

I’m dying because I love you, and you’ll never think of me as anything but your best friend.

The aroma of perfume lingered in his mouth. That hold on his lungs tightened. His breath shortened.

And he couldn't choke it down.

“...Coin-y?”

Not here….

Not now!!!

Everything blurred into one big mess. His heart pounded, and his lungs felt like they were going to rupture, and suddenly, puddles upon puddles of red bile and rose petals adorned the black field as the world began to darken. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak– only pain registered in his senses when he gagged before vomiting more blood.

His vision flickered

"Coin-y?!"

And a pair of hands grabbed him before everything went black.

The next time Coiny wakes up, it's to a grey, boarded up ceiling above him.

He’d been resting on a bench, uncomfortable despite the blanket set over it. He sits up, and next thing he knows, two strong arms wrap around him.

The world came back to his senses– first with the room’s metal walls, then with the beeping of machines, the smell of grease, and the heaving of someone holding him in a tight embrace: Pin. She didn't speak. Didn't ask questions, just held him tighter.

For a few quaint seconds, Coiny forgot everything. But when he coughed, his lungs flared with that familiar burn, then he remembered him and Book, and Pin, and red. Everything was red.

"Should I let you go?" Is all Pin says in that quiet minute of silence. She feels the way he shakes in her embrace and she holds him tighter.

He wanted to say yes; he should've said yes, because in the comfort of her hold, it was only a matter of time before he began to cough again. But instead, he melted into her embrace and wrapped his own arms around her.

"No. Don't."

Sometime during BFB, they’d learned to limit their telepathy only to situations which would be convenient—that usually meant challenges. They both agreed it was best to be more private after reading each other's thoughts for years, but sometimes, one of them would slip up; they'd get too nosey; listen in to what they weren’t supposed to.

This was one of those times for Coiny. It was too silent between them, and when Pin went silent, that's when there was more to hear.

So he was surprised that, when he listened in, all he could hear and see was static like that on a busted tv, until the static fizzled out, and he heard it:

‘I'm sorry. I know you're listening, and I'm sorry I didn't do more to help.’

Coiny’s voice cracked before it melted into a semblance of his usual, gruff voice, “You wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

“You don’t know that! I–” Her voice tapered. She kept her mouth open to speak, but when no words came out, Coiny listened in.

‘I could’ve done this. I should’ve listened into your thoughts the moment I knew something was wrong’

“We agreed we wouldn’t unless–”

“That doesn’t matter. You–You have a disease that can kill you permanently and I didn’t do anything about it!”

“Pin-“

Kill him permanently?

The sound of footsteps echoed throughout the metal room, and when Pin pulled back from their embrace, they saw Golfball, peering at them from the end of the stairs.

“TB, Basketball, he’s awake!!”

Soon after, multiple footsteps echoed down the steps and Tennis Ball and Basketball appeared behind Golf Ball. Pin stepped aside to make way for the scientists, who huddled frantically around the bench.

“Hello!” Basketball started. “How are you—“

“What the– what’s wrong with his vitals?? TB, write this down!!”

Coiny only noticed the machinery behind him when Golf Ball motioned to it. Wires plugged into beeping monitors, and Coiny followed the wires down to realize they were connected to him– multicolored wires connected to gel pads over his ‘chest’ and a small clip over his pointer finger.

“GB, what is this?”

“What is what?” She walked up to Coiny before she motioned with her foot, to which Tennis Ball handed Golf Ball a thermometer.

Coiny gestured to the room. “This.”

Golf Ball lifted the thermometer in front of him. “Open your mouth and lift your tongue.”

Coiny hesitated until Pin nudged him, and Golf Ball placed the thermometer under his tongue.

“We’re in my office in my underground factory,” Golf Ball started. “We wanted to get a read on your vitals– they’re incredibly unstable by the way.” She removed the thermometer and tilted it towards Tennis Ball, who was sat down, writing in a notepad. “You’ve been bleeding, yes? I’d like to do some blood tests.”

“Wait wait, how do you know I was bleeding?”

The scientists went quiet.

Basketball avoided eye contact when she spoke, “We saw…all that blood. On the field, after you passed out.”

Even with his best efforts to conceal the disease, it was all for naught in this room full of pitying eyes that’d seen him in his weakest state and stared down at him like he was already dead.

“Wait, so I’m–“ Coiny coughed into his hand from habit. “I’m gonna die? Permanently?”

Basketball swallowed. “Well—“

“At this rate, yes,” Golf Ball simply said. Her words cut through the heaviness of the oil-scented air, “This disease has changed your body, Coiny. It’s ingrained into your system; It’s a part of you now, so if you were to die from the disease and get recovered, you’d die again. Recovery can’t change the modifications done to our bodies.”

Golf Ball stepped closer. “How long have you had this disease for?”

“Uhhh…”

He thought back to when that feeling of silk smoothness first arose at the back of his throat. A once foreign feeling, now so familiar he could almost laugh at how much everything had progressed.

“Like…A year? Year and a half?”

TB stopped writing. Basketball’s eyes shot wide open.

“A year?!”

TB dropped his notepad when Golfball yelled. “You idiot! You knew of the cures this whole time and you let it get this bad?!”

Coiny swallowed “Did Book tell you anything?”

Golfball cleared her throat, “Yes,” She mumbled, voice still shaken with anger. “Yes, she showed us what hanahaki disease is…she told us you already knew.” She stepped closer, just under eye level to Coiny sitting up on the makeshift bed.

“Why were you so opposed to telling anyone??”

Coiny sighed, voice gruff and crackled. “I mean, there was no reason to.”

“No reason to?! We could’ve prevented it from getting this bad! Could’ve taken some tests and found ways to suppress the disease!” Golfball took a deep breath in to stabilize herself, “But, luckily for you, we believe surgery is not off the table. TB, Basketball and I would do it, and while I can’t guarantee successful results, it's better than not trying.”

The surgery. Of course he’d contemplated the only other method to cure him of this disease. But that came with a price he couldn’t afford.

“....No.”

“No?”

“I’m not getting the surgery.”

The room went quiet, with the only noise being the strained breaths Coiny took in and out akin to a wheeze.

“Why–”

Coiny could practically see the steam beginning to rise from Golfball.

“—Why must you be so frustrating?! You’re gonna die!! Permanently!!!"

To his side, Coiny could see Pin jump. Could feel as she leaned in to hold him again with a light embrace.

“I know that. But it’s not worth forgetting about…”

He didn't specify further; Didn’t need to, because they all understood. Pin held him a little tighter, as if she could keep him close to her forever.

Forever. That didn't exist for Coiny. Not anymore.

The scowl on Golf Ball's face almost gave way to another lecture of hers until Tennis Ball got closer to her, fuzz brushing up against dimples when he whispered “Golfie…”

That alone was enough for Golfball to take a deep breath in. “Fine,” was all she said, before turning and walking back up the same set of stairs she came from. Tennisball followed, leaving Basketball as the only scientist left in the laboratory.

Everything quieted, save for the beeping on the monitors, until

Basketball broke the dragging silence with feather-light words, as if words with weight could worsen Coiny’s condition. “I respect your decision. You must really care about your…beloved.”

Her eyes fell onto Pin.

Pin kept her arms wrapped loosely around him. Coiny didn’t move. Didn’t react to either of them– just simply sat on the bench, eyes glazed with a far-off look as he stared behind Basketball at a barren, metal wall.

“If it's ok with you,” Basketball started, words hesitant when they came out, “Would you be fine staying the night here? Your vitals are concerning, and Golf Ball would like to run some tests. Hopefully we can find another cure or find ways to manage the disease.”

Glass eyes lulled to Basketball. “Do I have to?”

“No– No, of course not, but I do think it’s in your best interest. It’ll be easier for us to monitor you this way, too.”

Time was slipping, and Coiny didn’t know how much of it he had left. No one knew. But if there’s anything he did know, it’s that he didn’t want to spend the little time he had staring up at eerie, bolted walls and tested on as if he were some mutated lab rat awaiting death. It's ironic, because that's what he might as well have been.

He stayed silent and tried to conjure a response out of the tangled vines that were his thoughts.

"Coin-y,"

Pin tore through the vines, and Coiny's mind went blank when she suggested, "You should stay for the night. I'll stay with you." Her grip around him tightened, and Coiny leaned into the warmth of her embrace. His body relaxed.

"...Ok."

Basketball watched the scene unfold, and that wary smile of hers was replaced by a genuine, small upturn of her lips. "Thank you, Pin. I'll ask Cloudy for some more blankets and pillows. If anything happens–” Basketball walked over to Golf Ball’s desk in the back of the room and picked up a small, red buzzer, "-You can press this. I’ve designed it to notify TV and Robot Flower, who’ll notify TB, GB and I. I'll leave it right here on the desk."

The warm, overhead lighting gleamed in Pin’s eyes when she looked over at the scientist. "Thank you."

"We’ll come tomorrow to check on your vitals–” Basketball glanced at Coiny in Pin’s arm, his eyes now shut, "—and try to find a way to repress your symptoms. In the meantime, get as much rest as possible."

Coiny stayed silent, Pin nodded, and Basketball took that as her cue to walk up and out of the laboratory. The sound of footsteps dissipated, and the silence that overtook the room became eerie.

“Are you going to sleep?” Pin whispered.

"Nah."

Coiny could feel her swallow. "You need your rest, Coin-y."

“I don’t wanna waste my time sleeping."

Pin removed a hand from his back to trace along the grooves of his edges. "If I get into bed with you, then will you sleep?”

Coiny resisted a cough, voice shaking when he continued. "Yeah, ok. I’d like that.”

Pin loosened her grip, Coiny loosened his, and Pin walked to the other side of the bench to lay beside him, to which Coiny immediately went back to holding her the second she crawled in.

He was…cold. So cold it was almost scary.

"Are–" Pin started.

‘Are you scared?’’

She didn't have the courage to speak those words into existence. She communicated to him in a way only he could understand. ‘I’m scared. Book showed me the disease and…I don’t know how you’ve dealt with it for so long.’

"I mean, it's weird," Coiny tried to laugh, but it came out as a broken cough. "I’ve just learned that I'm dying forever."

He fell silent. His thoughts were surprisingly calm when he held her like this.

"Deep down, this whole time, I think I knew this would happen, but I didn't want to accept it, and I think it's ‘cause I was scared. I don’t know if I still am, but I don’t think so...guess I’ve accepted it?”

"You–You shouldn’t say that," Her voice cracked. "You'll be fine. Basketball said they’ll find a cure.”

“Do you seriously think they will? They’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“It's good to have hope, Coin-y."

"I thought that, too." Coiny cleared his throat. "But there's really no hope with this disease. I’ll be dead by the time they find another cure.”

The silence that weighed upon them was suffocating.

"Please don’t say that. Just—“

There was a sniffle, and a choked sob, and Pin started to shake in his hold.

"I have to.” Coiny dragged his fingers up along Pin’s back with a slow movement, his eyelids growing heavy. “You're just like me when I first found out about this: In denial.”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she sucked in her breath, body shaking with each shudder of air she inhaled.

“I’m sorry.” His words were soft, but they carried the edge of a knife when they stabbed through Pin.

And when Coiny’s eyelids shut and he went quiet, Pin assumed the worst. Assumed that those were the last words he’d ever speak to her, yet, when she felt the frantic heaving of his chest, she let out her own sigh of relief– she still had him for one more day, but there was no promise of tomorrow.

Usually, when Coiny wakes up, it’d be to sunlight seeping through his eyelids and gentle breezes. But the next time he awoke, it was to artificial lighting from a busted lightbulb overhead and strong arms wrapped around him.

"Good morning, Coin-y."

Pin's choppy voice registered clearly from their close position, her legs tangled with his and arms wrapped around his back to hold him close. His chest strained, and his heart ached, but he was alive! And he was in the arms of the only object who mattered.

He beamed at her, every ounce of happiness seeping out onto his face. "Good morning, Pin. What time is it?"

"Well, it’s actually noon, I think. Basketball and TB came in some time ago to check on you, and they let me know it was morning.. Oh, and they gave us some more pillows and blankets." He hadn't noticed until Pin pointed it out, but there was a fluffy, white blanket covering their mingled bodies.

“I hope you’re ok with me still laying in here with you…are you? I should’ve asked first…”

“I don’t mind.” Their bodies were like mispatched puzzle pieces, not quite fitting together. But even then, she made him feel complete.

Pin smiled. "How's your condition?"

"It's..."

It just occurred to him– this was the first morning of many in which he wasn't awoken by a coughing fit. In fact, there wasn't a single petal or spec of red littering the floor.

"...It's good," Coiny finally responded.

"Good.”

The smell of oil and the beeping of machines faded into nothing, and the only thing that existed in the moment was Pin, running a thumb over his smooth copper.

–Until footsteps echoed. Coiny and Pin jumped, sat up, and saw that there, at the bottom of the steps, was a familiar meek face.

“Hello– oh!!” She looked away. “I didn’t come at a bad time, did I?”

Book. Ugh.

“You did–”

“—No no! You didn’t!” Pin retained her position on the bench, sitting upright under the blanket. “Hi Book.”

“Hello Pin, Coiny. Uh, were you two… sleeping together…?” Her voice trailed off.

Pin blushed. Coiny cracked a smirk, “Yeah. You jealous?”

“What, no– are you still on about that?? L-Look, I came here to check on you and… apologize.”

When Coiny opted to keep his mouth shut, Book continued,

“I’m sorry for causing a commotion.” It took Book a couple seconds to muster the courage to look at him. The usual insecurity in her eyes was nowhere to be found, and instead, her eyes were firm. She made eye contact. “I should’ve been respectful of your wishes and kept to myself. I’m sorry for barging into your personal matters the way I did; I feel like this was all my fault.”

Unbeknownst to him, Coiny smiled. “Hm, yeah, it kinda was your fault.”

Book bit her lip. The air grew uncomfortably tense until Coiny laughed, raspy and heartily. “I’m joking, Book.”

“...So?”

“So I forgive you. I– I think I’m gonna die soon, and I don’t want to die holding any grudges.” His smile grew delicate.

Book’s body tensed. She kept eye contact all the while, as if she could decipher the true feelings behind Coiny’s words just through his eyes. But there was nothing else to be deciphered – he was calm, content. Truthful. He’d accepted that his time was almost up.

“It’s fine, Book–”

“Why do you keep saying that?” She balled her hand into a tight fist. “It’s not fine, Coiny. It’s never been fine, because you’re gonna die and you can’t be recovered and even if you don’t realize it, nothing will ever be the same once you’re dead!”

Coiny cocked a brow. “What do you mean?”

“...The Losers will have one less member. There’ll be one less contestant, even without an elimination. And, lately–" she broke eye contact, eyes casted to the monitors behind him. “I’ve been thinking: If you’re going to die permanently, who’s to say any of us can’t? What if we get the disease, too??”

Coiny froze. “...Huh.”

He’d never thought of it that way. Permanent death was unheard of, but if the universe decided he’d be held down by the hands of death forever, it could decide that for any of them.

It could decide that for Pin.

He followed Book’s trail of sight behind him, turning around to focus on the rhythmic beeping of the machinery.

“What if I donate my body?”

Pin, who’d been quietly listening in, widened her eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah! Once I’m dead, GB and them can do some examinations, or experiments, or whatever. Maybe they can find ways to prevent anything like this from ever happening again.”

Book released a startled sound. “You’d do that?”

And for once, Coiny hadn’t an ounce of disdain for her. “Yup. That’ll ease your worries?”

Book’s mouth was left ajar until her eyes crinkled, mouth upturning ever so slightly. “It will. Thank you.”

The atmosphere between Book and Coiny would usually hold a tinge of apprehension, but in that moment, the uneasiness fizzled out, and Coiny felt closer to her than ever before. They held a secret for over a year, after all.

“Is this the last time I’ll be seeing you?” asked Book.

“...I think so.”

“Then, I’ll leave you two alone.” Book smiled knowingly, first at Pin, then at Coiny. “Goodbye, Coiny.”

She turned on her heel, ready to walk up that first step–

“-Wait.”

Booked redirected her body towards him, eyebrows lifted.

With a smile, the last one he’d ever direct towards Book, he simply said, “Thank you for worrying about me.”

Her somber smile grew wider, and she walked up the steps. That was the last he’d see of Book.

Coiny and Pin waited for the footsteps to disappear completely. Coiny’s words– donating his body– they echoed in the air long after he’d spoken them.

“Are you sure?” Pin asked after a minute of silence.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I mean, if I’m dead, why should I care what happens to my body?” Coiny looked back to the machinery, then to the equipment plastered over his body. “Oh, and can you tell GB about this? Y’know, if I can’t.”

Pin gripped the fluffy blanket over them. “Ok…”

Coiny’s eyes landed towards the back of the room– to the metal stairs he’d seen objects leave and come from. The equipment on his body never posed much discomfort, but when he focused his attention onto it, the equipment suddenly felt insufferable.

Coiny spoke, "You said TB and Basketball came in earlier, right? Did they get everything they needed?”

"They should've. They mentioned you were holding up better than yesterday; that your vitals were more stable.”

"Ok, let's leave.”

“What? Where to?”

“Anywhere but here. Mint, this factory sucks! It reeks of oil, and I miss the sun.”

In quick succession, Coiny removed the monitoring equipment off his body and got up to stand on wobbling feet, holding onto the bench to keep his weak legs stable.

"Wait, are you sure? What if something happens?? I think we should let GB know before-"

When Coiny took a shaky step forward, almost falling over his own feet, that's when Pin got off the bench and offered, "Hold on, I’ll carry you."

"Pin, it's fine-"

Next thing he knew, Pin was off the bench and scooping him up, placing one hand under his body and one under his legs, his feet dangling. She held him as if he were as delicate as the petals he coughed out, and she walked up the metal steps, unaware of the blush dusting Coiny’s copper.

When they exited the factory, the sun greeted them. Warm, bright, rejuvenating. It’d only been a day in the hellhole that was Golf Ball’s underground factory, but oh how he’d missed the sun.

Pin looked around. "Where should we go?"

"Anywhere." He snuggled into Pin’s arms. The warmth from the sun and from her hold lulled him into a hazy, dreamlike state. Pin walked a ways off from the factory opening to a field empty of other objects, and she sat Coiny down onto the dry land and plopped beside him.

Everything was still burnt. And ugly. But even then, the black charr of the land and the lingering scent of ash were comforting. His mind was void of any thoughts because this could be the last time he’d take in the sights of Goiky, so he had to ingrain each tiny part of it into his brain– ingrain each patch of burnt land, each uniquely shaped cloud that would pass by, ingrain the blue sky and the woosh of calm winds hitting against his exterior.

Up until this point, he’d taken everything for granted. Not once had he worried about a permanent death, yet here he was, trying his best to take a mental image of the world he’d been so familiar with. An image he couldn’t take with him in death.

Pin could read him like an open book. “What are you thinking about?”

“Hm, I don’t know. I guess…about how much I’m going to miss Goiky.”

His gaze averted down from the blue sky to the red object beside him. He could lie to himself, say he hates the color red from how much it's haunted him this past year, but the reality was– he loved it. He loved everything to do with her.

“I’m–” His voice shook, “I’m gonna miss you too, Pin. A lot. More than anything.”

Pin’s breath hitched. “You…you talk like you’re already dead.”

“I basically am.”

“No.” Pin inched a hesitant hand forward, and when she grabbed his hand and he didn’t pull back, she intertwined her fingers with his. “You’re still alive. I can hold you and talk to you because you’re still alive. Please, can you act like it? Please…”

“Hm. Ok, but only because I’ll do anything for you.”

Pin’s smile shook at the edges. “I know.”

He allowed himself to be selfish when he leaned forward to wrap his free arm around Pin and pull her into a loose hold. He kept his fingers in hers.

“But I really will miss you, Pin. I just want you to know that.”

“I…” Pin’s voice grew thick. ”I know. I’ll miss you too. So much. I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

Choked sobs muffled against his copper. They sat there, one hand used to wrap around the other, their other hand intertwined.

“.....Coin-y?”

“Yeah?”

“...Who is it that you like?”

For the first time since he's passed out, he felt that familiar brush against his throat–

"Why do you ask?”

–Felt the familiar scratch of flower stems deep within his lungs.

"I'm…I’m just curious," Pin wore an anxious expression which Coiny couldn't see, but he knew Pin well. Knew to listen in for that slight quiver and melancholy of her voice. Knew she was worried.

"I-I can talk to them for you."

"About what?"

“....I can convince them to like you back. You have a lot of great qualities; anyone would be lucky to have you.”

How ironic.

“Pft, convince them to like me back? If we could control other’s emotions like that, then this disease wouldn’t exist in the first place.”

"But what else can I do?” Her voice came out desperate. Urgent. “I need to do something.”

"Hmm, you can just…keep me company." He smiled, eyes closed to take in the light breeze.

"No, Coin-y, I'm serious! We can't just give up and accept this! You can't!"

"Well I can’t do anything about it."

"You don't know that."

"I do know that. It’ll only get better if my feelings are…y’know, reciprocated…" He mumbled the last part.

Pin pulled away from their embrace, and Coiny’s heart sank when he saw tears smeared across her face. "The other option.” Her voice was sharp, even with the slight quiver that tapered off. "The surgery. There’s still the surgery.”

“No, I can’t forget–”

"–You can! You should!”

Pin’s voice shook. Each ounce of restraint she had was gone by this point, crumpled into dust and blown away in the breezes of Goiky. "The person you like is killing you! They don't deserve to be remembered!"

Yeah. If only she knew.

He looked her straight in the eyes. “They do deserve to be remembered. They deserve everything in the world and more. I’d rather die than forget them.”

The air was suffocating. Even more so when Pin's hand flew up to her mouth, too late to cover the choked sob that escaped her. “I…I can’t. I can’t bear the thought of losing you!”

And the scratch in his throat became more prominent when Pin sobbed openly into the air. It hurt. They’ve been in a constant loop of hurting each other.

…Why?

Why did she care more about this than he did? Why did she shake and sob and mutter “I can’t lose you” as if she felt the same way he did? But he knew that wasn't the case, because the itch of a cough and the flower petals that began to clog his airways proved that much to him.

Tears stung in the corner of his eyes as he thought back to them: to memories that, soon, could never be recreated again—to memories of building farms together, and strategizing in challenges, and talking under baskets, and holding each other as Coiny slept because it felt as if either of them let go, they’d lose each other forever. He almost didn’t notice the thorns that rose up his throat slowly. Tauntingly.

But there was no hope. There never was.

The world grew quiet. The sounds of Pin’s sobbing were muffled, replaced by a pounding static.

The world began to flicker.

“...Coin-y?”

And Coiny snapped a mental picture of Pin right before the world collapsed.

When you die multiple times in your life, you eventually get used to the hands of death. His head pounded. Blood poured out his system until all he saw was red painting the land, red of flower petals in the breeze, and red that belonged to two strong arms, picking his limp body up.

He was dying.

“Hang in there!! Keep your eyes open!!’

Everything blurred together. Fast winds hit against him and he could feel himself descend down and down. Footsteps echoed against metal. Grease and oil filled the air. His lungs burned and his heart raced and bile that tasted of iron and florals continued to claw out his throat.

Each breath he took grew shorter, shorter, shorter.

Pin placed him on the blanket-covered bench, ran to the desk, the click of a button echoed, and when he choked on his own blood, she ran back to the bench to hold Coiny on his side. Blood and petals pooled beneath him.

“Hey, hey, look at me. Please look at me!”

The world became that much clearer when fingers intertwined with his. Pin sat him up, hand on his back. “They—they’re coming to help. Stay awake for a little longer.”

His vision flashed and his field of vision condensed into a circle, the edges of his vision darkening and the circle growing smaller, and smaller, and smaller.

In the midst of the fog, he saw Pin.

“You’ll be fine. They’re coming to help,” She’d repeated. Prayed. “It’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.”

The hand intertwined with his clenched so hard as if, somehow, a grip strong enough could keep him from the hands of death that began to inch their icy fingers towards him.

Everything blurred. His circle of vision condensed. The hacking of blood grew weaker. Flowers filled his lungs.

And was going to die.

He was going to die, but Pin was right; he was fine. He was going to die and it’s fine, because even if he was going to die from unreciprocated feelings, he at least wasn't alone in his last moments.

He basked in the warm hand that clenched harder against his own. His fingers limped in Pin’s hold.

“Don’t go,” Pin’s voice cracked. She held him tighter.

He let out one last cough.

“Please. I–”

And he inhaled his last, shaky breath.

”I love you, Coin-y.”

....

…

..

.

”There’s nothing to be afraid of Pin. I promise.”

”That…That really means a lot.”

.

..

…

....

“What’s wrong?!”

“TB, check his vitals, stat!”

“But there’s no reading; he’s not connected to the monitoring equipment!”

"Wait, look!"

One moment, everything was black.

And the next, everything was red. He was sat upright, a hand supporting the small of his back as he vomited red all over himself. The feeling rumbled throughout his lithe body until blood stopped spouting, until he let out one final retch, until a large, wilted rose with a thorny stem and roots longer than his own legs lodged out his throat and onto the blood-stained bench.

He closed his eyes. When he took a desperate breath in, for the first time in a year and a half, the air was crisp. Clear. Not a hint of florals.

"Coin-y...?"

And he opened his heavy lids to a sight more beautiful than any flower.

"I-" His voice scratched. Her confession rang in his mind like a melody.

There wasn’t supposed to be hope in this disease. She wasn’t supposed to reciprocate. But she did, and the flower in his system was out, and he was still here, and she was here, and they were together.

The corners of Coiny’s mouth lifted, eyes crinkling.

"I love you too, Pin."

It’d only been a day since Coiny was cured of hanahaki disease. The first day in over a year since he’d been freed of roots and thorns holding him captive.

Of course, there were still precautions he had to take: Drink warm liquids to soothe your throat, Basketball said. Avoid inhaling irritants and chemicals, Tennis Ball said. Get lots of rest and keep physical activity to a minimum, Golf Ball said.

Though Coiny would never be bound by such rules, which is why Pin had to be the one to reinforce them.

“Tea’s done.”

Pin walked over to the patch of land Coiny rested on. He sat up, and he expected a petal or two or a dozen to fly out when he did. But there was no smoothness. No itch. Nothing in his throat but the tea he accepted from Pin– soothing, comforting. He chugged it in its entirety and returned an empty mug to Pin, who promptly placed it down onto a tray on the grass. “Thank you, Pinster.” He smiled at her with a wink and cherished the sight of pink dusting her cheeks.

“You seem like you’re feeling better,” Pin said. “I’m glad.”

“Of course I’m feeling better! I mean–” He gestured to her, “you and I…y’know-”

“I know. But I mean you seem better physically; it’s good you’re recovering so quickly.”

She smiled, bright and wide and Coiny flinched out of habit. But there were no petals, and now, no repercussions to basking in the sight of Pin as much as he wanted. He smiled back. Even with the breezes blowing and the chattering of other objects around them, they sat frozen in time, staring at the other to capture the sight they both were so scared, so certain they’d never see again.

Coiny cleared his throat. Neither of them had talked about, well, yesterday– They tiptoed around the matter as if it were shards of glass on the floor that would cut them if either of them dared to discuss.

So it was a surprise to Pin when Coiny spoke,

"Y'know, this morning when I woke up, I thought I couldn't breathe.”

Pin’s own breath hitched.

“I think it’s ‘cause I was so used to it– So used to waking up and unable to breathe. And for a moment, it felt like I was…reliving dying, all over again.” Coiny looked up to find there were no clouds in the sky. “But then, I felt the air, and I felt the sunlight, and I took a deep breath in…and I saw you, right beside me."

He looked down, chuckling. "You were still asleep, though."

"Coin-y..."

When he looked down from the sky to gauge Pin’s reaction, she’d already been staring at him, eyebrows knitted and eyes glossed with a thin sheen.

"I'm sorry."

The sound of Pin's voice quivering, the sight of her wiping her tears– It stabbed through him just like those thorns used to.

"If only I'd realized my feelings sooner–” She cut herself off with a sob and wiped her eyes again and again, but no matter how much she tried, tears welled up and slipped through her fingers. Her voice tightened, thick and shaky when she whispered, “I'll never forgive myself for making you suffer."

Coiny’s heart broke. On instinct, he pulled her into a hug, and Pin wrapped her own shaky arms around him, holding him like he could still disappear.

"Hey, it's ok. None of it was your fault. And besides, I'm not dead." He pulled away, just enough to wipe her remaining tears, and he delighted in the sight of her small smile. "I'm just happy I can still be with you. And I wanna see you happy too, ok?"

"...Ok," Pin said in between sobs. Her smile widened. "Ok.”

Time seemed to stop when it was just them two. Unspoken words lingered between them when Coiny leaned in to place a delicate kiss on her cheek, just along the trail of tears running down her plastic.

“Y’know,” Coiny started, voice just above a whisper. “We never talked about….yesterday.”

Yesterday. Pin didn’t want to remember, or more like she couldn't, because her mind blurred the moments between then and now in an attempt to completely forget the hacking, the flowers, the fear that shook her to her very core. Coiny had reassured her she wasn’t to blame, but regardless, that guilt embedded itself into her like the roots once embedded into Coiny.

It seemed they no longer cared about limiting their telepathy when Pin heard, ’Hey! It’s not your fault!’

Coiny…laughed? Despite everything, he laughed– joyful, carefree, light, before placing another kiss on her cheek, and another on her forehead, and Pin’s mind was plagued with an odd combination of guilt and affection.

“If anything, it’s my fault I didn’t say anything.” He laughed again, voice straining. “Book tried to convince me to tell you.”

“She did?”

“Mhm. That’s why we were arguing, remember?” He lifted her hand in his. “That’s when you wanted me to tell you about everything. I kinda wish I did tell you, but I was scared you’d reject me. Would you have?”

“No.” She intertwined her fingers with his. “Deep down, I’ve always felt this way towards you, I just couldn’t put a name to it.”

“There you go. It was my fault, not yours, so don’t blame yourself.”

Pin pursed her lip, flinching at his words. “I don’t agree. I just, I don’t know, I can’t help but feel guilty. It took me to see you dying to finally realize how I felt. I wish I took your place instead. I wish I had that disease instead, as punishment.”

Those words knocked the air out of Coiny. “No!!” He clenched her hand harder. “Nononono!!! Don’t say that! I’ll suffer a million times over if it means you don’t have to.”

“But–”

“Look, let’s just say it’s both our faults, alright?” He separated their intertwined fingers to hold her hand up to his lips, and placed a gentle kiss onto her knuckles. “And I forgive you.”

They never did quite fit against each other, but they made it work. They were so close, bodies on the verge of brushing against each other, and from his position, Coiny could notice every detail– from the tears that started to well again in Pin’s eye, releasing and rolling down in thin streams, the pink that painted her red, and the way her eyes took a quick, shy glance at his lips, before trailing up to meet his eyes.

“Coin-y, I…”

Just what would she do without him?

“...I love you. I love you so much.”

Coiny let go of her hand to take the initiative of holding her back. He pushed her into him just the slightest bit, enough for the flared top of her body to hit against him.

“I know.” His smile was built on nothing but affection for the object in front of him. For the object so incredible, she could change the trajectory of his fate with one simple confession.

Coiny tilted himself to lean closer.

“I love you too, Pin.”

And at last, their lips met, conveying the love that his roses couldn’t.