Roses Are Red [Kiribaku]

The Last Petal To Pluck

There was a cough. Then another. And more and more, gravely and scratchy and painful-sounding, until there was, fluttering to the ground, a single damp rose petal.

But it was not Katsuki's.

~

Katsuki blinked a few times. For several moments, that was the only thing he could do, his brain was too occupied with thoughts of 'What The Fuck' to do much else.

The sound of labored breathing filled the room – Kirishima's breaths, heavy and coarse. His shoulders shuddered with every inhale and exhale, hand clenched desperately at his chest as if hoping to relieve the discomfort, the pain. As time passed, slowly, Kirishima's breathing evened out to a more manageable pant. He reached up to wipe away the strand of saliva that had been dripping from his mouth.

Kirishima stared down wide-eyed at the petal that lay in his lap.

After a beat, he cleared his throat. "O-kaay...?"

The sound of his voice snapped everything back into focus. The 'What the Fuck's that had been circling around in his head diminished, but were quickly replaced by a new thought – 'No one told me this shit was contagious'.

Kirishima's eyebrows knitted together. The longer he studied the petal – poking at it, lifting it to eye-level, examining it – the more uneasy his expression became.

"What in the world...?" he muttered.

Curiously, he held the petal up to the light, like a cashier testing a bill for authenticity. Then he dropped it, as if spooked. As if reality was finally setting in, as if panic was finally setting in.

"I-I don't..." He stumbled, the words catching in the back of his throat. "This is... I've never... I'm sorry but what the hell is this?"

"Hanahaki," Katsuki stated dumbly. His mouth was dry. "Hanahaki Disorder. It's... rare," he added, because yeah, it was rare, so this shouldn't be possible.

Kirishima lifted his head, doe-eyed. "Flower... spit-up?" A tense sort-of laugh escaped between his lips. "Well, they certainly call it what it is. But, what's...?" he trailed off, an edge of panic creeping into his voice once again. "I-I still don't understand."

It wasn't like Katsuki did, either. No one did. Even so, Kirishima deserved as good an explanation as Katsuki could offer. But the shock was still fogging up his head. This illness that had plagued him, rendering him useless for weeks... How could he even begin to explain something like that?

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

"Come on Bakugou, you're making me nervous." Kirishima scratched the back of his neck. "You know what this is, right?"

He certainly did know what it was, it had been his own personal hell for the past month. He knew it all too well. And he knew this shit wasn't contagious. Which meant...

Katsuki blinked. "Do you love me?"

Kirishima's cheeks went pale.

"W... What??" he squeaked.

With a palm pressed against his floor, Katsuki turned onto a knee, facing Kirishima head-on. "Kirishima..."

He let out a little amused huff, because the fog was finally clearing from his mind and everything was starting to fall into place and it was ridiculous. It didn't make sense, it was too good to be true, and yet, the crimson petal spelled it out in bold. And, maybe he was being too confrontational. Maybe he was being a little unfair. But he had to know for sure.