𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙎𝙖𝙞𝙠𝙞.𝙠 𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙨

ʀᴏꜱᴇꜱ→ ᴋᴜꜱᴜᴋᴇ ꜱᴀɪᴋɪ

"Who would love anyone like you?" 

the voice you had once loved hearing sounded like seething poison

"W-what?" you questioned, The words stumbling in your mouth as your eyes began to dilate to an impossible size. "I'll say it again L/n," he said, his mouth contorting into a sneer "who would love anyone like you?" his sneer faded away into an expression of pure disgust.

"B-but" the words in your mouth seemed to be stuck in an irreversible knot "Don't talk to me again" the blonde snapped harshly, turning away from you and walking away continuing on with his day, while you were left standing where you were shocked at the words that uttered from the blonde's mouth.

The only thought that surrounded your mind was what kusuke said, "who would love anyone like you?" 

After that sorrowful memory crossed your mind you flinched awake from the daze you were in, only to notice the hot tears running down your flushed cheeks. You tried to wipe the tears away with your arms but it was as if your body wasn't responding to your orders, it was as if you were in shock from the words kusuke said.

Though they were words they hurt like a bullet wound pouring out rufous colored blood. You thought you could trust kusuke, you thought he would love you back but that thought was incorrect, he betrayed your trust.

and you didn't know if you would ever get over the things he had said 

----

it started with a slight tickle in your throat when you thought about kusuke after the incident, you thought nothing of it shrugging it away and continuing on with your day as if nothing happened.

After this issue had continued for the next few weeks you took the trouble to buy yourself cough drops to lessen the swelling and the ache in your throat, nothing helped and the discomfort continued you assumed you had a minor sickness, but that assumption couldn't have been more wrong.

this hadn't started to worry you until you saw kusuke one day, you couldn't handle it, it was as if someone had punched your stomach and left you there to deal with the pain, your abdomen began to churn with anxiety and you could feel the bile in the back of your throat, you ran out of the classroom as fast as you could, clasping your mouth shut to keep the vomit in your mouth.

Your knees began to ache as you ran through the long empty corridors of your school, your desperate eyes began to frantically look around the place searching for a bathroom, once your eyes caught the familiar symbol for the bathroom you ran in and harshly slammed the bathroom door shut, you quickly opened the toilet stall door and began to vomit out the remnants of your breakfast, so much for a cold.

you violently began to hack into the toilet bowl the tremors shook your body all the way into your core, you could feel the small pinpricks of tears etching the corner of your eyes, the vomiting wouldn't stop, you gagged and hacked everything remaining in your stomach your throat began to burn from all the unwanted strain.

and that's when you noticed it, a single bloody scarlet petal leaving your mouth, now that you had noticed similar petals were covering the pristine toilet bowl.

that's why you felt sick. that's why you couldn't eat and could barely sleep, that's why you felt like a complete fucking wreck. you didn't understand until you started violently coughing up red dahlias and blood.

The Hanahaki Disease is an illness where the victim of unrequited or one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers, this disease is invetivetable as there only one way for the infection to disappear, if said person returns the feelings you have for them. Although there remains another desicison you could chose to make, the petals could be removed by surgically though your emotions and the memory of said person you had hanahaki for will be removed with it.

If you refuse the actions given to you then your outcome is simple, long hickory colured root's will infuse with your lungs and sage spindly vines will crawl up your throat until you suffocate to  death on the elegant crimson petals and blooming red dahlias, patients pray that the flower isn't a type of rose as the vines of roses are adorned with thorns as sharp as knifes that will cut the soft flesh of your throat if you were to cough it out.

you had brushed Hanahaki Disease off as something that would never happen to you. But here you were, trying to figure out how to dispose of the red dahlia's and your feelings for kusuke. you could get surgery, but you would forget about kusuke and you weren't ready for that to happen quite yet.