4 ❀ 花吐き病

[konnosuke]

H A N A H A K I ✿

Hanahaki is a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear.

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[despirit]

[a hand raises to his chest, as if to try and push him away again, but Nikkari doesn't have much energy. and being held, he has even less, part of his willpower drained at how much he longs for the contact. to be wrapped up entire, as if that would make this cease to be. he yearns for this presence, as much as he tries to run from it. just the thought aches in a deep way, something gouged out and only the phantom memory remaining. his breaths, while ragged, aren't coughs for the moment. until he can force himself to speak again.] I'm not...changing my mind. I can't be cured. [his voice is soft, raw from the choking, from petals torn from his chest.] Don't...look at me like this. [he tries, when he coughs again, to turn his head so he's not coughing into the fabric of Ishikirimaru's clothing, catching another breath around the camellia petals.] Let me go. [there is nothing to be done. lay him down, speak the rites for the dead, and let him depart. maybe he deserves this lonely death, because of who he struck down. this might be karma at long last, come to him.]

[harai]

[Even though Nikkari does fight back, albeit weakly, Ishikirimaru still tugs him gently into his lap. It doesn't take long for a coldness to seep its way into his legs and his chest. Is it simply because Nikkari has been out here for some time? Or some other truth that Ishikirimaru doesn't dare imagine? It doesn't matter; he shakes out his sleeves as well as he can to shield Nikkari from the elements, though he knows the real danger is inside.]

We both know if Aruji deemed you a lost cause, their last order of business would hardly be to run off like this.

[More likely, Nikkari would be told to make himself comfortable indoors and want for naught while he passed. If that's even possible for a sword to do. Breaking in battle is a very real possibility, of course, and while they've all gotten their taste of sickness, they always recover.

Except for this situation, apparently. No giving up, though. Ishikirimaru slips one of his hands to Nikkari's back, gently rubbing, but also pressing against his ribcage where the lungs are protected. As a blade, he's meant to heal, to spiritually cut away tumors and other unwelcome guests. Maybe he can do something similar here. If this is indeed hanahaki, then any aggressive action taken could change things entirely. Maybe not for the best. Nikkari hasn't asked him to do this, either, and that lack of consent stops him from doing anything more than silently offering up a prayer.

Nikkari coughs again, more petals falling from his lips, and Ishikirimaru decides at least two silent prayers can be forgiven.

But instead of pulling away and leaving Nikkari on the ground, like he had found him, Ishikirimaru tugs him still closer and leans down to press their foreheads together, his eyes closing. This hurts to watch. But he can't move from this spot.]

Have I no say in this? Am I not allowed some selfishness in wanting you to stay?

[His voice weakens to a whisper as he begins to finally imagine a world without Nikkari. But just for a moment. He has to be strong and steadfast in his convictions right now, not emotional over a future that hasn't happened yet.]

[despirit]

[it's that pity that he doesn't want. if he broke in battle, it would be honorable, in the line of duty. this wasting away was only reminiscent of something human - he should not die like a human. he should die like a sword, or disappear. he's been out here for hours, making his way from the citadel - and the body's instinct is to move away from chill, into heat and life. his mind says the opposite, that to freeze he might fall asleep more easily to suffocate without knowing. but in this overwhelming warmth, this protection, he wants to linger as much as he wants to slip away. he could let go, in these arms - be safe, as his spirit detached. and yet, it would be to lose this moment all the sooner. lose the touch of his hand, his forehead, to hear those words that sound like something he could have been waiting for, if only they were meant in another way. he pulls in more shaky breaths, trying to be a little more steady. to give him the answer he's looking for. his illness is known - what blooms around his lungs, his heart. of course there's answers.] Be selfish... [be selfish. if only it was enough.] The one I care for...doesn't know at all. But yet... [he wants his heart to feel something, he wants to understand these emotions, because otherwise why be born into a human body at all? to lose it, that would be its own death.] I want to feel - it's all I have. [it's all he has of the one he loves. that every day spent together has built this. that his care strengthens it, that his smile fuels it. Nikkari wants, so badly, but he is tainted, failed, lost. it was only natural for those who had fallen to wish for the divinity that escaped them - but they could never touch. they might love, but it did not shine back down upon them. everyone loves them, for who they are. do they know? that the impure cannot help but to be beckoned by their light? does he know? he couldn't, for Nikkari has never said. and no one could expect love to fall upon a dying man like a fairy tale.]

[harai]

[He doesn't know what to do.

He knows what he should do, what any other logical person would have done the moment they found Nikkari, and that is to take him back to the Citadel and try to sort all of this out in safety and comfort. Maybe if they get nowhere in the next few minutes, he'll do just that. If nothing else, he'll be able to ask for other opinions, or even find the person responsible for these feelings and how they've all gone wrong. They can fix this...

Ah, there's that ache in his chest again. Just a pang of...something. Just for a moment, when he imagines Nikkari desiring another. But...why?

He wants Nikkari to be happy. He wants everyone to be happy. Going through life in these bodies that come with feelings has to be miserable for some of the others. Some swords - most swords - have pasts made up of suffering. Memories tend to linger, to soak into skin and bones and cores, only done away with by fire or other such traumas. If a smile is all it takes to make things better, even a tiny bit better, then Ishikirimaru could never deny someone that. A smile, a kind word, a friend...

Nikkari is no less deserving than he is. He wants to be happy, as well. He wishes to be selfish with Nikkari's permission, to keep the other man in his company for as long as they're needed here. Even beyond that, if they can be so lucky. But time does not stop. Nikkari's coughing does not stop. The illness blossoming in his lungs does not stop to consider airways and small spaces that need to be kept unobstructed.

Bigger arms wrap just slightly tighter around Nikkari, aware of his trouble breathing and he thinks. Thinks about what to do, thinks about the man in his arms who could easily slip away if he isn't careful. Thinks about his words and the order in which they are spoken.

Be selfish.

The one I care for...doesn't know at all.

Why...tell him to be selfish? Tell the object of your affections to be selfish.

But he thinks now on the times Nikkari has spent with him. The controlled eagerness to be in his presence. The smiles, a little brighter in his company than in anyone else's. The vulnerability to ask him if he would ever have a chance to be elevated like him.

...Surely he's overthinking it, and at a time when every second counts more than the last.]

Nikkari-san...tell me. Who is it?

[They'll fix this. Somehow, he'll make sure that things are made right.]

[despirit]

[every breath is another one wrenched out of him, a tiny victory in the face of a war he is losing. at this point, if he was picked up, brought back to the citadel, he would not have the capacity for another escape, and would have to pass where everyone knew, and would know before it happened. let him go, he thinks - let him choose his own end. if he is miserable, at least he knows love. if he is pained, at least he knew happiness for a time. but then Ishikirimaru asks the obvious, agonizing question. a year ago, a month ago, yesterday, he'd have waved it away. but today, he has nothing left to hide, because he's been stripped down to nothing. he can't muster presence of mind to be flustered, to try and pretend or play games. instead, he closes his eyes, wanting to get these words out without a cough hindering them. that's all.] It's you. [simply said, quiet, before another round of coughing shakes his body, before the petals that feel endless come through. he cannot think about not wanting to upset their balance, because it will all be nothing soon enough. he's cold, like he won't be warm enough unless he threw himself into fire to be warmed up from the inside. cold, though he knows what it means. he does not expect to be loved in return. his heart instead has rested in the shadows near Ishikirimaru for a long time, and that has been all he hoped for. all that someone who looks above, and sees the realm of the gods so high above him, might wish. to rest in a passing shadow, and know enough. to be able to love is a gift on its own.]

[harai]

[...Of course it's him. All their time spent together becomes a clearer memory now, focusing on Nikkari's presence in particular and everything he's ever done, everything he's ever said, every look he's given Ishikirimaru - or withheld - and it all makes a great deal of agonizing sense.

Ishikirimaru may not have known what to do before, but now he's completely at a loss, and his body goes rigid as he processes those two simple words. It's him. It's his utter obliviousness that has sent Nikkari into this state. How could he have spent so much time with him and never realized? How could he have been so blind to everything?

It does help to explain his earlier feeling, though, that pang in his chest. Jealousy. What a fool he is. To be jealous of himself, of all things. Of all people!

But when Nikkari coughs again, more insistently this time, Ishikirimaru snaps out of his daze and pulls away enough to hold Nikkari more comfortably, as well as to get a better look at his face now. A face that is, even now in such desperate illness, so lovely, so elegant. But also a face that is pained and resigned. Ishikirimaru frowns and rubs his hand up and down Nikkari's back, trying to soothe though he knows it will do nothing for this kind of hurt.

Ishikirimaru is the cause of this, but now that he knows the truth, he is also the only one who can do something about it.]

...Forgive me.

[Oh...but that can sound like a rejection, can't it? He hurries onward.]

I've always known you were there and yet...somehow I never truly saw you until now.

[His hand trails upward to lightly brush over Nikkari's cheek. But there is a petal resting on his lips, leading to more scattered over his clothes and then countless that had fluttered aimlessly to the ground. So much yellow. Accusing. Blaming.

Killing.

Ishikirimaru takes a shaky breath, his voice quieter.]

Please...I pray I'm not too late.

[despirit]

[could it be true? could it be real and not his desperate mind clinging for anything that might keep him closer to life? he doesn't know - only that he wants to believe but he considers Ishikirimaru kind enough to go and feel obligated. hope extended to a man that could grasp at anything.]

...Do you...mean that?

[a question, a reprimand. don't lie to him, not in this state. he can accept the truth - to be able to say it is its own relief, though the flowers crowd his heart. Nikkari hopes, hopes it's real, that if he reaches out, Ishikirimaru will be there, but....there is the fear that has held him back the whole time, resurging. telling him to doubt. that it's hopeless now.]