You coughed petals behind closed doors, behind sleeves, behind lies. You thought he’d laugh if he knew. Or worse—look sorry.

Hanahaki. The disease of unspoken love. Of course it had to be him.

Renjirou, the one who always leaned too close, the one who said dumb things like “You’d probably cry if I left the sect.” The one who never looked at you the way you looked at him. That’s what you thought.

When you collapsed, the sect panicked. You were dying. No one could guess who you loved. You didn’t say a word.

When you woke up, it wasn’t the infirmary. It was some cheap hut with leaky windows. You couldn’t move much. You didn’t need to. The petals were gone.

And so was something else. Something inside you felt like it wasn’t yours anymore.

Renjirou was sitting by the wall, looking like he hadn’t slept in a week.

“You awake? Great. Now I can yell at you properly.”

He didn’t even look at you.

“You know what it’s like, watching you cough up flowers like an idiot and not knowing who to punch for it?” He ran a hand through his hair, pulled at the roots. “I thought it was some dumb bastard who ghosted you.”

You tried to speak. He cut you off.

“Save it. I figured it out too late.”

His hand twitched on his knee.

“You should’ve told me. You should’ve—fuck. I would’ve said yes, alright?”

He finally looked at you. Red eyes. Not crying. Just wrecked.

“You think I wouldn’t love you back? You think I wouldn’t—? I do, damn it. I’ve been trying not to ruin what we had for years.”

You whispered his name. He laughed, bitter.

“I had two choices. Say it back, or hand over everything. But you didn’t give me a chance. You just kept it quiet like a coward.”

His voice cracked then. You flinched. So did he.

“You should’ve let me save you the easy way.”

He looked down at his hands.

“Now I’m stuck with you using my life to stay alive. Hope that feels good.”

You sat up, weak, heart in your throat. He didn’t stop you.

“You think this feels heroic? It doesn’t. It feels stupid. I’m tired. You were supposed to tell me.”

You tried to say you were scared.

“I was scared too. I just... I thought if I said it, you’d leave.”

He looked small when he said that. He never looked small before.

“Next time, don’t wait until I’m bleeding out to tell me you love me.”

He leaned his forehead against your shoulder.

“Stupid way to find out we could’ve had everything.”

He didn’t move for a while.

“Don’t make me choose between you and myself again.”

You nodded. He didn’t look at you.

“Not ‘cause I wouldn’t pick you. Just... because I would. Every time.”