THE HANANAKI DISEASE
The Hanahaki Disease is an illness where flowers will grow in the patient's lungs. They will throw up the petals and sometimes even the flowers as the body works to remove the foreign objects to avoid asphyxiation. This disease stems from feelings of unrequited love and can be extraordinarily painful for the patient. There is no specific flower for the disease, but it will either be the love interest's favourite type of flower or their favourite colour as a flower.
One of the only ways for the disease to 'disappear' is if the patient confesses and the love interest returns the feelings; however it must be real love and cannot be remedied by friendship or lies. The infection can also be removed through surgery - although the feelings and memories of the love interest will disappear along with the petals. If neither option is taken, or the feeling is not returned in time, then the patient's lungs will fill up with flowers and they will eventually suffocate.
Russia slammed his book shut, startling a few of the other students lounging in the library. He pushed himself out of his chair and plucked the book off the table, traversing the library to return it to its bookshelf.
God he was really in deep. Of all the people to have a crush on, why him? He was way out of Russia's league - and a guy no less.
Russia scoffed when he thought about them being together. The Jock and The Loner. The perfect pair. Yeah right.
People like that only get together on TV or in movies or fanfics or something equally as stupid and unrealistic. There was no way in hell they could ever be together.
With that thought, Russia felt a familiar pain beginning to form in his throat as he slid the book into place on its shelf. His eyes widened and he stumbled out of the isle, coughing slightly into his palm as an overwhelming stinging began to climb up his trachea. He booked it out the library door, ignoring the annoyed and confused glances he recived as he tried to remember where the hell the nearest bathroom was. Tears sprung to the corner of his eyes as the stinging only worsened, and he could feel his throat tearing up from the inside.
With some luck he located the men's bathroom and dashed into a stall, barely able to lock it before a hacking cough sent him lunging for the toilet bowl.
After a few agonising moments of choking and gasping and clawing at his own throat, the torture ended as abruptly as it came, leaving him with nothing but a sore throat and a bloody toilet bowl.
Russia's lip quivered as he stared blankly at the vibrant red flora stained with his own scarlet blood. There were plenty of petals and one whole flower, stem and all. Just looking at it reminded Russia of the dwindling ache in his throat as he imagined how the sharp throns sliced through his flesh and scarred his insides.
Roses.
Why of all the millions of flowers that existed did it have to be roses?
Russia slumped on his knees and leant onto the stall wall, shaking violently and crying. He didn't even realise he was crying until the warm salty liquid dripped onto his bloodstained hands.
If what the book said was true, he would either have to confess to America, the most popular and wanted guy in the school, or permanently erase all the memories tied to him.
Russia winced - neither of those sounded particularly appealing.
But instead of staying crumpled up on the ground, Russia staggered to his feet and swallowed hard, ignoring the sharp sting that came with his decision. He flushed the toilet and put down the seat, opening the stall door and dunking his bloodied hands under the cool tap water. He glanced upward at his own reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror and noticed instantly the red lacing his eyes and the blood on his shirt.
Shit.
He'd have to be more careful next time.
▪▪¤▪▪
"Russia? What happened to your shirt?" NATO pried as Russia arrived at his history class late - again. He had made somewhat of a habit out of being late before the stupid Hanahaki Disease decided to show up; so in a way it was convenient when his tardiness was due to his body slowly dying because no one questioned a thing.
"It's paint," Russia croaked, almost physically cringing at how his voice sounded like he had drowned in a pool of cheese graters. "I just had art."
NATO nodded slowly, clearly unconvinced but he turned back to the board anyway and continued writing the day's goal and textbook pages. Russia took that as his cue to take a seat and he shuffled to the back of the classroom to his squeaky wooden chair. America gave him a cheerful wave, a small piece of paper nestled in his hand. Russia felt his breath hitch in his raw throat and it was almost as if all the pain just melted away into nothing as he smiled softly back.
At the start of the year NATO let everyone choose their own seats but quickly ran into a roadblock: all of America's friends wanted to sit next to him, and he had a lot of friends in this class. To combat this, NATO arranged a seating chart and placed Russia next to America because Russia wasn't exactly known to be the most talkative of students due to his introverted nature. America, however, stopped at nothing to befriend this grump of a country and passed him notes frequently during class, often only getting one word answers or even none at all from his desk neighbour.
But America was determined.
That was one of the things Russia really admired about him.
He kept pushing the boundaries and eventually snuck his way into the castle walls and somehow managed to stay snugly in his new spot as Russia's "friend".
Today was no different, Russia observed as America inconspicuously slid the piece of paper over to him. Russia eagerly opened it and couldn't hide the dumb smile on his face.
((Italics: America
Bold: Russia))
Where were you hmm? Finally living out your playboy fantasies??
Russia snickered quietly and scribbled his response in his fairly legible handwriting before sliding it into America's outstretched hand, his heart doing backflips at the feeling of the other's warm fingers gently brushing his skin.
You just wish I was gay so that you could be apart of my infamous playboy exploits
Lol you right, you right. It's such a hard knock life for me over here - none of my attractive male friends are gay!!!
There was a cute little doodle in the corner of a sad/disappointed looking America sighing which Russia found absolutely precious.
So we're friends then?
Course we are! You're probably like the most genuine friend I have lol
Why do you say that?
Out of the corner of his eye, Russia noticed America hesitate before writing out his answer, biting his plump lips with a creased brow.
God he needed to stop paying so much attention to this boy.
Idk man. Ppl are just really fake here it's so dumb. Like if you're gonna be anyone at least be yourself yknow? It's exhausting being someone else.
Yeah, I guess you're right but I never really pegged you for that
For what?
Someone who's not okay with fakeness
Oh so you think I'm naive, is that it?
Russia's eyes widened as he scrambled to correct his mistake and hopefully not ruin his chances at losing basically his only friend.
No no! I dont think that at all!! I just meant that you seem like a stereotypical jock- wait no thats not right, forget I said that. You just seem so um unappoachable?? No- YOURE JUST NICER THAN PEOPLE EXPECT OK IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU
The Russian heard America giggle next to him and his his face flushed when he read the next message.
I'm just pulling your leg dude! Gosh you really freaked out about me possibly being offended ;p
SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, PLAY IT OFF OH GOD ABORT, ABORT-
Yeah, sorry. I just don't like being mean to people
America snorted, attracting the attention of a couple of their peers for a second or two.
Well that's some grade A bullshit if Ive ever heard it. Do you not remember the time you threatened to throw Italy in a trash can just cus she kept asking you for a pencil?
I was having a bad day, shhhhhhh
Or how about that time you death glared North for a good minute when he wouldn't stop talking about how you should go back to communism
Ok it was a dumb lie i get it
Good :>
-_-
No but like seriously, whyd you get so upset and scared? You know im not gonna leave you just cus you offended me, that shit happens all the time, you cant help it! Just gotta accept you did a bad and move on with your life
Russia blushed, trying to get over how the wording of that message sounded like they were in a relationship.
No, he needed to stop. America was his friend, friends don't have crushes on their friends! Plus there's no way America would like him like that.
Russia's throat started to tighten and his lungs squeezed.
Sorry I just get worried lol
Dude saaaaaaaaaaaame, idk why but I get anxious over the littlest things
Really? But you seem so...cool? Idk, I cant think of the english translation for the word I'm thinking of
Yea I guess I seem that way, but trust me I am not
I find that hard to believe
No it's true!! I'm super paranoid to the point where it's annoying, my friends always say so
Russia raised an eyebrow at the paper.
The fake friends?
Yup lolol
...do you not see my point?
I do but I'm choosing to ignore it :)
Russia turned his head to his note-passing-buddy and gave him an unimpressed look, but he just got a cheeky smile in return.
▪▪¤▪▪
Stupid America and his stupid smile sending Russia's stupid stomach into a stupid fucking mess.
Russia was kneeling in the park this time - he hadn't been able to make it home in time to catch the cough attack. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he hacked up more rose petals and full roses, staining the lime green grass with sinister looking burgundy splatters.
He had just been walking and admiring the scenery of the early afternoon while on his way home from school when a sudden wave of self-deprication hit him square in the face and sent him reeling.
Russia's lip curled when he saw the little bloodstained devils; he would probably never be able to look at another rose again.
If he managed to live past this, that is.
He had options, sure. It wasn't like the procedure was super expensive or anything - he had looked it up one day when he got extremely desperate for an escape plan after not being able to breathe for a good minute or so - and if he could just stop being a little bitch he could confess to America.
But America wouldn't like him back, would he? Then he'd be stuck in the same situation as before.
Another petal pushed itself up as Russia coughed some more.
"Oh my god."
Russia whipped around to come face to face with a horrified America, who was clutching the strap of his bag so tightly his whole hand was turning whiter than it already was.
A heavy silence hung in the air, weighing them both down and making Russia want to sink into the ground and never emerge.
"I-I can explain-" Russia croaked, wildly trying to wipe the blood from his chin and hide the flowers with his body, even though he knew it was all for nothing.
America had already seen. He was probably just going to let him die here.
Russia couldn't really blame him, he would do the same thing if he saw himself like this.
America slowly dropped to his knees before the slavic nation, his arms falling limp by his sides.
Russia stared at him confused as another round of coughs started to bash at his trachea and rack his usually intimidating frame.
Why isn't he leaving?
America cautiously reached out a white skinned hand and gently wiped some blood away from Russia's swollen lips.
"Stop..." he whispered, brushing back and forth against Russia's bottom lip methodically. "Stop doubting yourself."
Russia opened his mouth to say something but all that emerged was violent hacking and a shower of blood and petals. Some of the blood stuck to the American's light blue denim jeans, but he either didn't notice or didn't care.
He stayed put.
"This is because you're doubting yourself, Russia," America explained with more finality in his tone and a saddened expression. "You're better than this, please just realise that already!"
Russia just sat in front of the smaller country in shock.
America's eyes brimmed with tears as he took in short sharp breaths, "You're fucking amazing and you just don't see it. Amazing people rarely do. You are wonderful and desirable and perfect just the way you are and you don't deserve some dumb ass painful flowers deciding your self worth!"
America pulled Russia into a hug, making sure not to compact his chest too much as it was probably still sore. Russia closed his eyes in bliss after the initial shock of the guesture wore off, grateful for the comfort and warmth of the other. "You need to learn to love yourself because you do deserve happiness and you do deserve love, and I'll say it a million times over until you believe it because I..."
Everything was so perfect, America felt right in his arms and all Russia wanted to do was stay in the park with him forever. Russia was content until he felt droplets of water hit his shoulder where America's face was buried.
"...because I love you, Russia."
~~~~~~~~
Of course the first thing I post in this book is fucking angst