I would happily die knowing

That I died loving her

I was going to hold on

Despite the feeling of being set on fire

And knowing exactly how this was going to turn out

But I wanted to die with the little dignity I had left


Throwing the blinds wide open, the woman stared at the scene infront of her. The road below shone in the moonlight, the stray cat she's been feeding sleeping calmly on the roof of the adjacent building. She could hear the crickets singing and frogs croaking in the distance. It would rain again, it seemed. She contemplated opening the windows to let some fresh air in but her hands froze when she reached for the lock. A searing pain spread through her whole body and she doubled down, coughing violently.

"Not again," a weak murmur escaped past her lips as another cough took over her, shaking her to the core. Her throat was burning, she felt as if her dinner last night was going to escape through her mouth. The bile forming on her mouth left such a weird aftertaste but at this moment, all she could feel was pain.

Pain.

Pain.

All because she loved a guy.

Who didn't love her back.

She gripped the window pane, forcing herself to stand up and her legs swayed under her weight. Damn it.

She opened her palm and stared longingly at the petals in her hand.

Deep brown, almost black petals.

One more than it was a week before.

How was she going to explain it to her friends? People just don't cough up petals due to unrequited love. They would call her a fool.

Or fucked in the head.

Maybe she was both.

And maybe this cruel disease was the reminder why she shouldn't have fallen for him.

For a guy who thought of her as his best friend, his play mate, his confidant.

She lied down on her bed again, her throat still raw and hurt from all the trauma. She managed to drink some water but she desperately needed some wine. Or beer. But the thought of her Hanahaki getting triggered due to alcohol made the thought die as soon as it had emerged.

She stifled a laugh.

Hanahaki.

Such a pretty name for such a deadly disease.

She curled up in her bed, brushing the blue hair which was stuck on her sweaty face and closed her eyes. For a moment, she imagined him to be here, holding her hand and giving him the hope she desperately needed. That she's going to be okay. That all these was just in her head. That they would always be friends no matter her feelings.

And a small, cruel part of her treacherous heart wanted to know if it he would even care she was dying because she loved him? That her love for him had spread its root in her heart, her lungs, forcing and threatening to burst out for everyone else to see? Would he spare her a thought about her suffering or would he wash his hands of her?

The dark petals in her palm shone so prettily in the moonlight that she couldn't throw it away. Keeping it inside the drawer of her bedside table, she wondered if these petals would disintegrate someday? The petals from 9 months ago still looked freshly plucked. Or would these shrivel and die when she takes her last breath?

Hah. She'll never know.

But all she knew was the raven haired, chocolate eyed man would never know he was slowly killing her. Ash could never know her love for him was her poison.


Hanahaki Disease is a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear.

I read such a beautiful story about Hanahaki and it was tempting to not write one myself. I've not decided the ending yet because lets see how this one goes.

Also, sorry for all these "episodes" I keep having lately. Trying my best.

Updates are dependent on my working schedule and how much I can torture myself without actually dying so stay tuned?