the sad one yesyes pls read - mattsumakki

Part four.

Final part hMHm ( '･･)ﾉ(._.')

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The room was deathly silent after the shuddering bang of the door, dust hung in the air heavily. There was no movement whatsoever, it was as if every particle in the air had suspended.

"Makki?" Matsukawa called as he waded through the dark, calling out to the pink-haired male, where in the utter silence his voice seemed magnified.

He wasn't going to lie when he said he was scared - if it wasn't evident in his pale face, then he could feel himself lose his sanity over the wild thumping of his heart - that uncontrolled, erratic panic that accumulated with the lack of response.

"Makki? You... there?"

He hasn't answered his calls... no one's seen him in days.... He was terrible the last time I saw him-

At the end of the hallway was a lone door - ordinary wooden backside but with something unknown beyond it.

Matsukawa stopped, sniffing the air; there was the familiar yet unnatural smell of something sweet and... coppery. Almost like blood.

Every pad down the hallway echoed his heartbeat and he wiped a trickling bead of sweat on his neck. The door swung back with a vivid squeak and the ravenette grimaced. But not before his eyes fearfully widened.

All the breath was stolen from him. He couldn't move, his metal-blood solidified at the sight of a pure nightmare in front of his eyes.

"M-Makki...?" A hoarse whisper and he slumped to the ground.

Impossible. This is impossible. No no no no-

But it was there, right in front of his eyes; he was there.

"Makki." The sound that came out of Matsukawa's throat was horrible; a silent word of plea that held a vast ocean of horror and anguish.

An ocean he wanted to drown in.

Hanamaki's body was a desecrated shrine; a gorgeous Chrysanthemum plant had burst wildly out of his chest through his grey hoodie, it's flowers filling the room with its rich fragrance and colour - the boy's hair and the flowers the only spot of pigment in the deathly pale room.

Hanamaki's face was painted with his final moments - cheeks stained heavily with tears from his bloodshot - now empty - eyes and blood was all over the place.

The same eyes Matsukawa had looked at the other day.

The same eyes he'd looked at as he laughed and waited, looking for a desired reaction in those amber iris'.

Those same iris' which were now lost. Gone.

Matsukawa's whole body was shaking, he trembled and bowed his head as he crashed to the ground, then he heard a scream. A guttural scream that would have shaken the walls, shattered the windows and powdered the glass.

A scream that ripped out of his throat in pure fear and denial.

He wanted them to; he wanted to break everything, he wanted to shatter everything.

"Makki! Makki! Makki!"

An unending cry filled with tears and pain- such brutal pain. It was almost as if Matsukawa was the one that had a plant bursting from his chest.

Makki, Makki, Makki, Makki-

Hanamaki's chest was a horrible show; beneath his bony collar bones was nothing but a terrifying dark display of blood and flesh girded stems that proved their rigidity by amorously blooming perfect flowers. Roots entrenched into his lungs, which looked as if they were willing to hold onto every little space available to be alive. The redness of every petal drinking on Hanamaki's lifeline.