Komaru wasn't sure what she was going to do. Should she let her feelings end her life, a suicide of some sort? Or should she kill her feelings and the flowers- the life growing inside of her?
"Makoto?" Komaru asked, plopping down on the couch.
"Yeah." Makoto asked. He was a sweet brother, even though she came on short notice he still managed to put some tea on the kettle. Passing a cup to her, he questioned her about her problems.
Komaru wanted to explain everything, from her feelings for the purple haired disaster to her disease. But she held back, Makoto would tell her to live. He couldn't lose anyone else.
"If, say, a um," Komaru tried to think of a metaphor, "a child." She immediately regretted it, as she knew the answer, but kept going. "Um, if you had a child in you-"
Makoto raised his eyebrows.
"Metaphorically speaking, but the other parent didn't love it, but you loved the other parent. Would you abort it?"
"I wouldn't want to raise a child alone, I guess."
"Gaaah this is a bad example." I put my head in my hands.
"You're not pregnant, are you?"
"Huh? No!"
"Um, how about a flower instead of a child?"
I freeze. Did he figure it out? No, this is my brother, not Kyoko. "Weird but okay. Say there's a flower growing inside you, Yeah? It's growing because you like someone that doesn't like you back.
"Let's say this would kill you unless you get it surgically removed- which would kill your feelings as well -or if you make them fall in love with you, but you know you can't."
Makoto bit his lip, "Sounds an awful lot like Hanahaki. Our Aunt had Hanahaki."
"Really?"
"Yep. She got it surgically removed but- I feel like she changed afterwards. Became a different person."
"Oh. I was researching Hanahaki for a friend, and I just wondered what you thought." Komaru lied, making up her mind.
"Oh, good. I got worried."
They continued to talk about mindless things, and chatted until the tea went cold and the sky went gold. Makoto had forgotten about Komaru's question, and Komaru only had the question on her mind.
Komaru waved goodbye and walked home, alone as usual. She wondered about Toko and started coughing again.
She looked at the petal, wiping the hot pink blood off. It was beautiful, a vibrant shade of violet. She couldn't quite catch the scent, but she was sure it smelled wonderful.
It was born from thoughts of Toko, after all.
