It was another coughing fit. This time she knew remission was over. She was locked in the bathroom, something she had learned from Karkat all too well. Another heaving cough, jade green blood spilled into the toilet she was leaning over. She tried muffling the noises to no avail as choked back sobs made their way up her throat in large, painful lumps. Her hair was a mess, falling flat against her face and she had long given up on trying to gel it since the incident last year.
Two months ago, after much poking and prodding from Rose, her body decided to take a small break at tearing itself apart. Now that it was back though, Kanaya was unsure of what to do. She knew that this time there would be no second remission, no second chance. How fitting it all was though, she who had destroyed two others from the outside in was now being torn apart from the inside out. She paused and grimaced at the bitter irony—and then she thought about Karkat. How would he take this in? She can't even remember how long they had a Moirailleigance going but she knew without a doubt that this would break him. She sighed and got up from kneeling in front of the toilet, flushed it, and looked over to the mirror to find a ragged face with jade blood smeared at the corners of her mouth. A rainbow drinker coughing up blood… fitting again. As she washed up, she looked at her clothes—no damage done—and then at the half empty container of hair gel. This certainly wouldn't be easy, but it was the best way, or so she thought. After half an hour of makeup application, she looked almost like normal which was good enough to pull off not being sick again. Leaning her head against the door, she listened for anyone that might be on the other side. There was no sound of feet rustling or soft breathing so she cautiously opened the door and found that she was indeed right. She was alone and could head back to her room and start a sewing project.
When Kanaya sewed, she was in her own world. She could do whatever she wanted, arrange and rearrange the pieces of fabrics so they laid perfectly. In this world she could control outside factors of the clothing; she could control its entire environment and she could feel this power in her hands. After some time she noticed Karkat leaning in the doorway with a small smile across her face. It took her everything she had not burst out in tears again and run towards him like a fool blubbering that the cancer was back, blubbering that she was going to die and hoping to be comforted by a broken Karkat. Instead she looked up and smiled, "Hello Karkat."
"Hey Kanaya," his voice was raspy but not overbearingly loud. Around Kanaya, Karkat was much more sensitive to her needs. "You're looking pretty fucking chipper today."
She smiled and could hear hope in his voice. "I am," she lied. His weary face lit up ever so slightly and she couldn't help but smile back at how enthusiastic it seemed.
"That's great! Hey maybe we could watch a romcom tonight if you're up for it. We haven't had a movie night in a while…" His enthusiasm spoke wonders.
"That would be wonderful, I'd love to see a romcom. It has been pretty long since I've last seen one, maybe even over 10 months." She tried to speak with just as much excitement as Karkat had. Setting aside the brand new sewing project, she got up and walked over to him. "Did you have a particular movie in mind?"
"Uh, yeah. Dave recommended it, it's called, 'The Proposal'. He said it was pretty funny and I thought you would like a good laugh." He was now just a little more shy but his face was still ecstatic. Kanaya heard as he added quietly, "They say laughter is the best medicine…" but chose to ignore the comment. Pursuing the topic would only hurt him more and that was the last thing she wanted to do.
"Sounds like fun! Do you have everything set up or should I go search for some extra pillows?"
"No. I have it all set up by the TV so you don't have to worry about extra pillows or anything." Karkat said. When they went over to the TV, Kanaya hadn't realized how much Karkat had wanted a movie night. In fact, she didn't think she would have been able to find any spare pillows around looking at the collection he had. Along with a ridiculously large pile of pillows there were blankets and grubcorn in the general vicinity with the DVD already in and waiting to play.
"You were right; you did get everything set up." Kanaya was impressed and excited for the far too rare movie night with Karkat. Out of all the shenanigans she had with her moirail this one was one of her favorites. She sat down on the grandiose pillow pile and Karkat sat down next to her. He threw a blanket around Kanaya and then one around himself; her weak frame leaned against his stronger one and throughout the movie a soft, barely noticeable pur was in the background. Kanaya smiled and looked up at Karkat who was indeed purring and then continued watching the movie.
And then it came. A small knot in the pit of her stomach was slowly growing, lurching itself against the walls of her insides. Immediately she sat up, knowing she had about 7 minutes to make it to the far bathroom. Karkat was entranced in the movie, tears streaming down his face as another burst of laughter escaped his mouth. She couldn't help but smile at him before slowly detracting herself from the situation. Four minutes left. She hurried to the bathroom, almost running and tripping over herself. 2 minutes. There it was—she could see it. 30 seconds. She lurched over the toilet and vomit mixed with blood came up once again. Acid burned up her throat as more made its way out. The door was closed and locked, a precaution she did even in the most pressed times. It was unusual to have two episodes in one day, but she supposed it was more common since she had just come out of remission. She washed up, flushed the toilet, and fixed her hair again since strands had come undone. Satisfied she walked out and went back to where Karkat was. The movie was nearly over but he looked up at her as she situated herself against him.
"Something wrong?" he asked in his raspy, affectionate voice.
"Just needed to use the restroom, I'm alright now." She replied, leaning against him once again. He nodded and looked at her for another moment to make sure she was okay. After the movie was over, Karkat talked a little about it, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes but extremely pleased with the movie. Kanaya listened and smiled, she had dearly missed the enthusiasm in his voice. After a while Karkat realized the time and sent Kanaya back to her room, conscious of her weakening body and convinced that she needed all the rest she could get. Grudgingly she obliged, and once in her room for no more than a half hour a third attack hit.
It was exhausting, truly, having your guts emptied every couple hours. It was also abnormal and this could only mean one thing for Kanaya. So instead of going to sleep, she finished her one last sewing project. It was a small project, nothing fashion oriented, but it was perhaps the dearest one to her heart. She would walk into the bathroom to splash water onto her face every hour, and she could tell that it was getting increasingly pale. Finishing up the final details, she jotted down a quick note and put a ribbon around the small project. Putting the note and project at the edge of her bedside, she laid down, made herself comfy, and closed her eyes for the last time.
It was already the afternoon and Karkat hadn't seen Kanaya around at all. He decided to go check on her, since it couldn't hurt. Could it? He knocked on the door. There was no answer. Again he knocked. "Kanaya?" his raspy voice called out hesitantly. No answer. "Kanaya? I'm coming in okay?" He opened the door slowly. There was no movement in the room. Light beamed through the window, making the room glow peacefully. She was still asleep, and tucked away underneath a pile of blankets. She could no longer use a troll bed because she was so weak but she hadn't really cared for them anyways. "Kanaya? It's time to get up." He called out hesitantly, his voice strained. His pace towards her bed quickened and he looked at her. There was no hair gel, no makeup—just plain ol' Kanaya—pale, colorless Kanaya—beautiful, dead Kanaya. His heart skipped a beat as he touched her cold face. Tears were welling up, "Kanaya? This isn't funny Kanaya. You were just fine yesterday. You were REALLY FUCKING CHIPPER YESTERDAY KANAYA."
And then he noticed something on the end of the nightstand. A small little project, the one she had been working on yesterday when he interrupted her. He picked it up and inspected it as tears streaked down his face. In his hands was a small red crab with his symbol embroidered on it and wrapped around its neck was a small, jade green ribbon. A note fell to the floor and he picked it up. On it read in small, uneven writing:
To The Best Moirail