Something had been bothering Nanami— tightness in his chest, a persistent cough, one that left him feeling winded.

He chalked it up to stress and overwork, typical for a sorcerer.

Days passed, and before he could suppress it, the same cough wracked his body, until a delicate, pale pink petal fell onto the paper in front of him.

He stared at it, uncomprehending, until a sense of dread settled over him.

Nanami knew what it meant, and more importantly, he knew why.

Deeply, irrevocably in love with someone.

Kento wasn't sure when it started, this obsession. It wasn't like him, to become so… hyperfixated. All he saw whenever he closed his eyes was you. Your smile, your tactile innocence, your laughter.

He thought of you and all you were and all you could be– with or without him.

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, but now he had a new problem.

He couldn't afford to let the others know— people would ask questions, they would worry. And besides, Kento didn't want anyone to feel guilty for his fate, especially not you.

If Hanahaki disease meant you didn't feel as infatuated for him as he were for you, he refused to put this weight onto your shoulders— God no, never.

Being in love with you was meant to feel good... so why was it killing him?

A few days before his symptoms appeared, you suggested the two of you meet at a cozy café near the school. Despite feeling unwell, he agrees, hoping not to raise suspicion.

At the café, Nanami, ever the picture of calm, hid his discomfort behind a composed exterior.

"Have you ever felt like there's something important you need to say, but you can't find the right moment?"