You've seen many strange things in this world. Titans, titans eating people, titan shifters, people sacrificing each other, and even worse than that, but no soldier training in all of Paradis would've ever prepared you for this. For Levi hunched over a basin in the dead of night, lips stained red from petals.

It was confusing seeing white camellia petals in the hallways, simply sweeping them up during cleaning days. No one talks about hanahaki disease anymore. It's so rare. And why would someone in the Scouts have it as if there was time for love?

A curse wrapped in beauty. Unrequited love, clawing its way up the throat and blooming in the worst way possible. Most people don't survive it, but then again, "most people" aren't Levi Ackerman.

He hides it well. The buttoned up sleeves, cravats to cover up the bruises blooming down the pale skin of his neck. You had suspected that he was just tired. Anyone with the title of "Humanity's Strongest" would be, and he is tired. Just not in the way most would think.

He carries the quiet like a second skin. He can contain the coughs. You notice it more now, how he's still when you laugh and you can't tell if he's paying attention to the sound or if he's trying to ignore it. He's not avoiding you, that's for sure, so why is he so distant?

He looks at you like you're both the antidote and the sickness. Which, technically, you are. He'll only be healed if you reciprocated these feelings, and clearly the continued lingering presence of these bloodied petals proved that wasn't the case right now.

Hanahaki grows in silence. Maybe he thinks you don't see it, causing him to bite back a cough when you're around, to drink his tea faster in attempts to soothe his throat. Maybe he thinks it's better this way. Maybe protecting you means never letting you know.

But that's hard to do now that you're standing right there as he coughs up a storm of petals. "Don't look at me like that," he grunts. "It's just a cough, I..." His voice cracked. "You should go."