Hanahaki Disease Meme

[misheard]

HANAHAKI DISEASE

The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient coughs up flowers or flower petals. The only cure is to have that love reciprocated, or to somehow wipe away all one’s memories of their beloved person. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals.

1. Post your character with name, canon, and ship preferences in subject line. Also include whether you'd prefer your character to be the one suffering from the disease or not.
2. Tag other people.
3. Pain.
4. If you need help choosing specific flowers, this flower meaning chart might be a good starting point.

Comments

[ghostfromthemachine]

This is going to fuck me up regardless, Chuuya, so I may as well.

[ that darker blue is starting to seep into her hair now, too ]

It wouldn't be the first time, so it's fine.

[goatsongs]

Bullshit. You're not allowed to tell me not to say things are fine when they aren't and then do it yourself.

[That is just blatantly unfair to both of them.]

[ghostfromthemachine]

I'm not possibly dying. And I said I didn't care what you said— I meant that. I only didn't want you to do something idiotic like refusing to seek help while doing so.

[goatsongs]

Fucking yourself up more for the sake of a guy who'll be dead either way is even more idiotic. You're not allowed.

[ghostfromthemachine]

[ makes a weird, low rumble in the back of her throat, like the edge of a growl, and starts to inhale as though to say something

then stops, glancing down at her hand and then lifting it so she can uncurl her fingers and look at the palm. she has in fact dug little bloody crescents into it, though from Chuuya's angle all he can see are smudges on her fingertips, too dark to be blood. ]

...Mm. You're lucky; I can't really argue any further unless I want you to see something ugly, so I suppose you've won for the moment.

[ her tone is both almost flippantly casual and deeply, bitterly self-deprecative ]

I'll come by again later.

[goatsongs]

[He almost says 'don't'. He doesn't want her to see anything ugly, either, and this is ugly, flowers and all.

...If he's lucky, maybe he'll die before she comes back and it won't be a problem anymore.]

Take care.

[ghostfromthemachine]

Only if you do the same.

[ turning and walking straight out through the door, no special effects or hesitation involved this time. she's going to go see how much of a ruin she can rip apart with her bare hands and then make five gallons of soup, damn it. ]

[goatsongs]

[Have fun with that, Kaiko.

While she's tearing apart ruins, Chuuya makes it to a temple, and they confirm what he already suspected - they can't do anything for him. It's returned love, or the surgery that probably won't work, or death.

So that's that, he guesses. Might as well just hole up and wait to die.]

[ghostfromthemachine]

[ not all of us have rampant alcoholism to fall back on, Chuuya, all right. some of us have to resort to other self-destructive (or just destructive) coping mechanisms.

there's a knock at his door late the next day ]

[goatsongs]

Go away.

[At least it's an immediate answer, if not a positive one.]

[ghostfromthemachine]

[ —bites her tongue before she can automatically reply in her old speech patterns ]

No. I brought you soup.

[goatsongs]

I don't want it.

[This is going to go well.]

[ghostfromthemachine]

That's a club you can join, then. I'm coming in again.

[ the world's most sarcastic ojamashimasu. doing the ghosty thing ]

[goatsongs]

[The floor now has even more flower petals littering it, and more of the larger clumps. Chuuya's phone is still broken and still exactly where she last saw it. The pile of books isn't as large - he returned some of them to the library, like a responsible person.

Chuuya himself is in bed.]

That's rude.

[ghostfromthemachine]

I'm only returning the favor.

[ ...a little mollified by the fact that he's in bed, though.

eyeing the smaller book pile, an idea settling in the back of her mind, before setting it aside in favor of unlocking the door to get at the things she left outside. said things involve a large bag full of tupperware, and... a broom and dustpan.

welp. ]

[goatsongs]

[Oh. He guesses that he could have cleaned up a little more, but...]

Don't bother. Someone'll clean it up eventually and in the meantime it's not hurting anybody.

[As far as weird things to cover his floor with go, at least it isn't pesticide?]

[ghostfromthemachine]

[ is pesticide better or worse than what's basically floral phlegm ]

That someone might as well be me. ...Isn't it depressing?

[goatsongs]

[Ango also left the dead bugs on his floor. Worse.]

Dying is depressing.

-I went to the temples. There's nothing they can do to help.

[ghostfromthemachine]

[ there's a loud crack as she accidentally snaps the broomstick where she was holding it

...staring at the pieces for a moment and then letting. out. a slow. breath. ]

...

I'm still going to look for other answers. And there's no reason for things to be more depressing than they have to be.

[goatsongs]

Don't bother. Lovesickness is depressing no matter what you do about my floor.

[...And she'll ruin more broomsticks that way.]

[ghostfromthemachine]

... lovesickness.

[goatsongs]

...I thought you knew.

[Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.]

[ghostfromthemachine]

I was going to go to the library after I finished here— you're serious.

[goatsongs]

I wish I wasn't.

[Basically any other cause for this disease would be easier to deal with. But it just had to be love.]

[ghostfromthemachine]

[ COVERS HER FACE

she can't actually handle this. give her a moment. ]