𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗜𝗖𝗜𝗔𝗡'𝗦 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬! ━━━━ mao isara (on hold)

1. time (kuromao)

ᡣ𐭩 . hanahaki au | angst

Blood dripped thickly, causing a light tap into the metal bin as soon as it hit. Small and thin yet rough petals of a kind of flower followed afterwards with every cough he heaves. His skin burns from the major fever this disease has caused him. Rashes forming around his limbs started to blister from the thorns that begged to be free from being wrapped around his heart and twisting through his veins.

"This is three steps worse than last night." Comes a mutter from the fellow redhead of the dorm room - Kuro, his hand rests on his chin as he glances towards where Mao leaned over his bed, still sitting under his summer duvet silently begging for the coughs to cease to a stop.

"At this rate, we may have to call your little friends that you're not coming to the convention and take you to the hospital instead to get you checked in for the night."

"I can't do that. This event is an important one to go to...!" His throat felt raw with the intensity he spoke. The stinging sensation of the nettles crawled through his windpipe with every syllable he breathed out. The vines dared to grow further upwards, letting the leaves take space in between as they began clogging his throat up slowly.

Mao Isara had what is called the "Hanahaki Disease," and so far, Kuro was the only person who knew about it. Only by mere accident. The older male even knows who he is suffering because of, and he feels bad for the younger male. Especially because the said person was already in a relationship with someone else, not long after Mao had developed feelings for them, which shattered Mao to pieces.

The said person was also too busy and oblivious of Mao's feelings for them.

Another heaving cough reaches Mao, causing him to lean over the bed once more as more of the red fluid flows, petals reminding him of the amount of time he has left. He waits a minute after the wreck of a coughing fit, his mouth still slightly open from the urges to throw some up more.

Kuro leans over from where he stood and grabs one of the many water bottles that sat in a crate amongst many by the door of the dorms room and hands the cold bottle towards Mao. He unscrews the glue-tight-like lid before doing so, raising an eyebrow at the younger. "More than death? I don't think so. You're going, kid, and I'll make sure of it."

Mao stayed silent at the response, taking a few gulps or sips possible of the clear liquid when he could. His eyes cast down to his lap, a frown of discomfort never once leaving from his facial features.

In the corner of his eye, he could see Kuro tapping away on his phone - most likely chatting to either one or all of the rest of the members from Trickstar. Possibly even Yuzuru or anyone else who's a member of the student council, too, about Mao's situation of not being able to join in for a while.

A sudden groan then comes from the beaujolais-haired boy, causing Kuro to switch his phone off and inch closer towards the younger who seemed to hold his stomach tight with one arm, as the other clutched tight against his blood stained top grasping to grip against his chest on the same side that his heart would be.

"I'm definitely calling you an ambulance." He hears Kuro mutter once more, the older student already waiting on call for the emergency line to pick up. Thankfully, in Kuro's opinion, the person on the other side of the line picked up right away, letting him speak of the needed help immediately.

"I'd like to call for an ambulance, please..." Kuro's voice fades from Mao's hearing as he lurches over his bed once more, more droplets of blood hitting the bottom of the bin in such disgusting swirls as the various flower petals floated amongst the terrifying red.

More coughs surge through, causing a non-stop fit of heaving the pleads to breathe freely for a moment. Mao could feel tears from the pain pricking at the corners of his kelly green eyes. Shivers of the hot fever going up and down his spine repeatedly, causing him to shake every now and then.