Hanahaki

Hanahaki. A disease that made you cough out flowers due to unrequited love. A strange disease that would plague you, eventually pushing you over the edge of death.

Few have to deal with such a disease, but those who do usually end up with it die, hearts broken and bodies torn apart in the literal sense. It is said that people who die with this disease have flowers grow out of their graves, a symbol that the disease has taken over their bodies.

I coughed, the flowery scent mixing with the iron taste that enveloped my mouth. Spitting out a flower petal, I endured the pitying looks from the people around me as they pretended not to see the bloody petal that I held in my hands.

The pink petals were beautiful, strange golden patterns decorating it. The gold crawled up the flower like delicate embroidery, resembling a beautiful dancer that dipped their shoes in golden paint to create the pattern.

I crushed it in my hand, the golden patterns twisting and becoming something unsightly. Liquid flowed down my hand, just like the blood that I tasted in the back of my throat.

Hate, the only emotion that I felt towards this situation. I hated these stupid flowers that suffocated me, that tore my life apart. I threw the petal away, hoping to get it out of my sight as fast as I could. Hanahaki, the stupid disease that tore my life apart.

It would have been better if I knew who my unrequited love was in the first place. I searched everyone I knew, hoping to find out and hopefully get rid of this disease.

But it didn't work. The flowers got bigger and bigger, tearing my throat apart. I couldn't even get out of bed as any extra breath was painful.

And that was the moment I found out who was my unrequited love. A little guy that plagued my entire childhood, who I desperately had suppressed in the darkest depts of my heart.

He had showed up one day on my doorstep again, looking for me in concern. The moment I saw him, I went into a fit, coughing out all sorts of flowers, multicoloured and patterned with incredibly strange patterns.

This strange feeling of sadness, mixed with pain was something that was unique to Hanahaki's,. I clutched my heart, spitting out an entire flower onto the floor in front of him. Collapsing, I briefly saw his panicked face before closing my eyes.

I had always prided myself for my ability to set aside emotions, so I was furious when I got Hanahaki, this disease that practically told me that I was in love. Emotional.

I woke up in a hospital bed, his tiny figure next to me, worry evident in his eyes. As I saw this scene, I suddenly felt rather happy, as if he was something to be happy about.

Happiness clouded my vision, making me see only rose petals. I coughed slightly, a rose falling out of my mouth.

Now… I suddenly understood why people with Hanahaki were so… happy. They were dying because of love, wasn't that the most romantic thing? I spent my time lying in bed, his little figure beside my bed, telling me stories.

I would smile as I listened to them, enjoying the sound of his voice. Yet, something seemed to scream at me, trying to tell me a truth that I was ignoring.

Pink petals that stained with blood littered the floor around my bed. He picked them up slowly, occasionally wiping the sweat off his face and grinning at me. I loved that happy look on his little face, trapped in this moment.

No, I knew. I just didn't want to admit it. So I pretended, pretended everything was fine. If I closed my eyes, I could pretend to be cured of Hanahaki, spending a romantic time with my beautiful, stuck in time unrequited love.

Don't tell me about it, stop. Why does my reason stop me from getting stuck in this daydream? If I was going to die, at least let me die on my own terms! Let me die, stuck in a beautiful fake reality, happy. Or at least, as happy as I could be.

Why? Why won't you allow me to at least pretend to be happy? Constantly reminding me of the truth. Was it because I've conditioned myself to stop thinking about it a long time ago, causing this wall to still try and block me from drowning in a daydream?

You didn't have to tell me so many times. I know he's dead. Wasn't that why I had Hanahaki in the first place? You don't have to remind me of something so obvious. I stared hard at his little figure. It made sense the moment he appeared.

The years had done nothing to him, still stuck at the prime of his life. Was it fun seeing me drown myself in this daydream which I loved with all my heart? The petals built up around me, enveloping me in their fragrance.

Stupid, absolutely stupid. Yet my desperate attempts to stop myself from falling into the daydream was overwhelmed by my wish to see him one more time, for another second, another minute.

Was this the power of that stupid thing called love, that I was going to die from? Surrounded by flowers, which would one day grow on my grave?

"Hey, you're not real." I said casually.

He tilted his head. Right, he was a figment of my imagination. I could easily guess what he was going to say in the next second.

"I am real."

"I am real." See? I was right. I hated myself for being right. Why? For once I wished that I wasn't so in tune with the harsh reality of things. I coughed. I could feel the flowers reaching for my heart.

When people were reaching the ends of their lifespans, did they feel the same as me? Calm and at peace with myself? Well, it was close to being calm anyway.

"No, you're not real. You died a long time ago. 5 years, to be exact. An accident, remember? I hated myself for not being able to save you at that moment.

If I was a little faster, would you be alive today?" I spoke to myself. My unrequited love slowly started to fade, his figure becoming a little blurry.

A petal rested on the tip on my tongue. I tasted it, the iron taste sticking to the back of my throat. I ignored it. "Would you be alive if I was faster? Just a little faster, a little stronger perhaps… would we have had a future together in that case?"

"I'm… sorry. I really tried my best to live like you said. I just… couldn't without you. Everything was suffocating, even without the petals." They say that as you die, everything becomes clearer. Was this that strange, out of body moment?

It didn't matter. I was going to die anyway. Finally, this torturous existence could be stopped. Without him, it didn't matter if I lived another day or not.

As I breathed my last, closing my eyes and tasting my final breath of flowery fragrance and metallic blood, I heard a small voice.

"I forgive you. Please rest."

Was it happiness? For a second, I tasted clean air, something I hadn't breathed in for a long time. I smiled.

And the world moved on.