Preface

Blossom Break
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/56649673.

Rating:
Explicit
Archive Warning:
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category:
M/M
Fandom:
SixTONES (Band)
Relationship:
Kyomoto Taiga/Matsumura Hokuto
Additional Tags:
Romance, Drama, Hanahaki Disease, Chronic Illness, Mentions of Death, Heavy Angst, Sex, Explicit Language, Alternate Universe, Mentions of Blood, mentions of throwing up
Language:
English
Stats:
Published: 2024-06-14 Completed: 2024-06-17 Words: 34,448 Chapters: 2/2

Blossom Break

Summary

He should have seen it coming.

 

On Monday morning, Taiga wakes up to find a single cherry blossom petal on his pillow.

 

* * * * *

Notes

I've been wanting to write a fic about Hanahaki (Flower Coughing Disease) for a while now, and what pairing could be more fittingly complex than our dear Kyomohoku?

I've tried to include all relevant Tags. Please be mindful of them. And I already apologize for making them suffer like that. I love Taiga and Hokuto!

This is the first time I'm posting the first chapter rather than just publishing the whole story all at once. But I'll be posting the second part as soon as I finish editing it; the entire story should be up by the end of next week. It's already written, though!

Just a warning that there are two timelines in the story. That explains the tense changing.

Hope you enjoy reading! ♥

Chapter 1

Oh


what we are,


It doesn't matter


Oh


what we are,


It doesn't matter

 

He should have seen it coming.

 

On Monday morning, Taiga wakes up to find a single cherry blossom petal on his pillow.

 

He's been coughing for weeks, chalking it up to stress. But now, as he sees it, revelation sinks in.

 

Even Juri noticed it already a couple of weeks past, pausing his lunch to listen to Taiga's coughing fit.

 

"That sounds pretty bad," Juri said. "Have you been to the doctor?"

 

"Nah, it's nothing," Taiga replied. "Just feeling a bit worn out, that's all."

 

The cough remained, growing more persistent and insistent with each passing day, but Taiga continued to brush it off, convincing himself that it was nothing more than the result of his busy schedule at work.

 

Seeing the cherry blossom petal, everything clicks. He realizes his cough has been more serious than he thought.

 

Taiga can't ignore the irony. On stage, he plays larger-than-life roles, portraying characters who meet their end dramatically, like stabbing themselves with a sword or falling down from the stonewall.

 

But in real life, he'll just end up dying because of feelings. And it's all his own fault.

 

He should have seen it coming.

 

*****

 

They met for the first time at their theater canteen. Back then, Taiga had been quite a fresh face in the whole industry, but he had been determined to make it big, to bigger roles and bigger stages. That had been his dream as long as he could remember.

 

However, Taiga never remembered any details. Honestly, he was terrible at remembering anything about the past, especially the first meetings, like who talked to whom and where it all happened. But somehow, how he had met with Hokuto for the first time managed to stay in his mind in a very detailed picture.

 

*****

 

Taiga sits at his desk, the glow of his laptop screen being the only light in the room. He types "hanahaki disease" into the search bar. The results flood in, countless articles and forums. He clicks on the first link, a detailed medical article, and begins to read.

 

Hanahaki disease is a rare psychosomatic disease characterized by the expectoration of flower petals. This disease is caused and precipitated by unrequited romantic feelings or significant emotional distress such as heartbreak. In this condition, a plant begins to grow inside the patient's lungs, leading to the production and expectoration of flower petals. If left untreated, Hanahaki disease can lead to severe respiratory complications and may ultimately result in the death of the patient

 

Taiga's eyes scan the page, absorbing every word. He scrolls down.

 

Symptoms:

 

Something stings in Taiga's chest as he continues his reading.

 

Pathophysiology:

The pathogenesis of hanahaki disease involves the somatic expression of unresolved emotional distress. The florid material observed in patients is thought to originate from the body's psychosomatic response, wherein emotional pain is converted into a physical substance, in this case, flowers. This process remains largely theoretical and is a subject of ongoing research.

 

Prognosis:

The prognosis for patients with hanahaki disease is generally poor. Without appropriate intervention, 95% of patients are either deceased or have undergone surgical removal of the floral matter within three years of onset. Those who achieve emotional resolution through reciprocated love generally experience full recovery.

 

Treatment:

The definitive treatment for hanahaki disease involves addressing the underlying emotional distress. Reciprocated romantic feelings from the object of the patient’s affection can lead to a cure or full remission. However, it is critical for the healing that the patient genuinely believes in the authenticity of this reciprocated love. In cases where emotional resolution is unattainable, surgical intervention to remove the floral matter may be considered. This surgical intervention, while potentially life-saving, carries the significant risk of erasing all memories and feelings, leading to potential massive cognitive and emotional alterations in the patient.

 

There's a link to a forum. Taiga clicks on it. Scrolling down a little bit, he opens one of the threads and eyes at the messages.

 

I suffered from hanahaki for years, all because I couldn't believe my husband truly loved me. It wasn't until I opened up and let myself trust that love that the symptoms began to fade. It took time, but once I allowed myself to believe, the flowers stopped coming.

 

Taiga leans back in his chair. He takes a deep breath.

 

*****

 

The air hummed with the chatter of people, the clatter of utensils, and the aroma of the same food the menu had every single day. Taiga stood in line, idly tapping his foot against the tiled floor. He didn't really have any appetite. His mind was preoccupied with the upcoming rehearsal and the lines he still struggled to remember, so he barely noticed when someone sidled beside him.

 

Taiga first took a small tomato plate from the vitrine. Then he stopped, thought for a few more seconds, and reached out to take two more.

 

"I can tell that you're not a fan of different vegetables?" a voice beside him remarked.

 

Taiga raised his head. He met a pair of brown eyes looking at him under the black fringe.

 

"I mean, I don't really see anything else than some tomatoes," the guy said, gesturing with his head to Taiga's tray.

 

"Oh, yeah," Taiga responded awkwardly and looked back at his tray, which was loaded with tomato cups. "I just... really happen to like them. Tomatoes, I mean."

 

"Well, you must have the healthiest diet of all of us, then," the guy replied.

 

Taiga had to take a better look at the guy. Taiga remembered seeing him several times but couldn't recall the name. Taiga had to admit it immediately: the guy's face was very handsome, framed by a stylishly tousled fringe that added youthful charm to his appearance. There was an adorable mole above his upper lip that also caught Taiga's attention. His smile was a bit shy, but maybe it only reflected Taiga's own awkwardness. The guy was wearing a yellow old-school t-shirt with a funky design and a faded beige cardigan with some holes that looked funnily self-made. His pants were black and a bit worn out, rolled up at the bottom to show his ankles.  

 

Taiga chuckled nervously. There was something friendly in the other guy's aura. But it had been a while since someone had initiated a conversation with him just like that, so he couldn't help being painfully aware of how awkward he himself was.

 

"I guess you could say that. Tomatoes are my favorite snack," Taiga managed to mutter.

 

The guy nodded. "Cool, I can only respect that. From now on, I'll make sure to give you my extra tomatoes because I don't eat them."

 

"Oh, always ready for that. You can count on me."

 

The guy's smile was widening. "I'm Matsumura Hokuto, by the way. I think we've met before, but catching up with all the names can sometimes take work. Nice to meet you officially!"

 

"Kyomoto Taiga. It's nice to meet you, too, Matsumura. Or meeting you again?" They bowed at each other.

 

Later, Taiga was occupied with his phone settings (he should have gotten a new one already a long time ago) as he picked tomatoes into his mouth with chopsticks in his left hand. Perks of being both-handed; eating while doing something else was so much easier. He totally missed anyone standing next to him before there was a sound of a person clearing their throat.

 

Taiga glanced up, his chopsticks pausing mid-air.

 

"Hey, would you mind if I joined you?" Matsumura Hokuto asked. "It's pretty packed everywhere else, and I don't really know people that well here."

 

"Oh sure, go ahead."

 

Taiga took his bag from the seat next to him to make some space.

 

"So, besides tomatoes, you seem to have other passions, too. I mean, are you a fan of Mr. Children, too?" Hokuto asked after sitting down, pointing at Taiga's shirt.

 

Taiga smiled. His favorite topic really came up that quickly with a new person.

 

"Yeah, I'm a huge fan. I've seen them live a couple of times. They're amazing."

 

"No way! I've been to their concerts too. What's your favorite song by them?"

 

"I'd probably lean towards Eien or Shirushi," Taiga said after pondering for a moment. It had always been challenging to choose just one favorite among so many excellent options.

 

"Good choices. But they're such sad songs, so at the same time, I must say that's quite interesting. Care to enlighten me about that selection a bit more?"

 

Taiga shrugged. "Well, I don't really gravitate towards music that directly reflects my own life," he said. "It's like how I do my acting. I'm into more universal themes and emotions, rather than specific personal experiences."

 

They talked about different acting methods throughout lunch. Hokuto mentioned his desire to get maybe movie roles in the future, but it was challenging because his training had been more specialized in stage acting. For Taiga, the whole movie scene also sounded interesting. Yet, it seemed so challenging that he had been unsure about it. Many theater actors had tried and failed miserably in the film industry. Taiga wasn't willing to be one of those people. He didn't see the movie industry as inherently superior, but rather, he felt it required a different skill set that he wasn't sure he possessed. Many many actors definitely didn't have enough skills for that. Although Hokuto smiled at him politely, Taiga realized maybe too late that he was preaching all this aloud and probably sounded like he was criticizing Hokuto's goals.

 

"Sorry, did I sound too blunt?" Taiga stuttered and felt a bit embarrassed. "I didn't mean you wouldn't-"

 

"No, no, no, that's fine. I get it," Hokuto said, and his smile didn't falter. "You're just being honest, and I appreciate that. It's tough out there, and you make a good point about it being challenging. But that's part of what makes it exciting for me."

 

When they were done with their lunch and already saying goodbye, Taiga hesitated for a moment before pointing at Hokuto's phone in his hand.

 

"Can I add you on LINE?" he asked, quickly realizing how forward it sounded. He hurried to correct himself, not wanting to come off as weird. "I mean, it’d probably be convenient to have contact info from someone in the same production. Since we don’t have a group chat with the others or anything."

 

Hokuto smiled and waved his hand dismissively. "Ah, no worries. Of course, it's fine."

 

As Hokuto finally excused himself and walked away, Taiga made his way to the dish return area. With his phone in hand, he opened Hokuto's profile and kept watching the funny profile picture of the beetle. There was something oddly endearing about it, such a mundane, almost childish choice for someone who otherwise seemed so composed and mature. It made Hokuto immediately seem more human, more approachable.

 

Taiga clicked on Hokuto's profile picture, enlarging it to get a closer look at the beetle. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

 

Maybe he had managed to make a new interesting friend.

 

*****

 

In the waiting room, Taiga's gaze drifts to the other people. He observes a mix of children and adults, some older, some his age. Some are accompanied by their families or loved ones, their hands intertwined in silent support, while others sit alone just as he does. Taiga can only wonder why these people accompanied by their loved ones are even there in the first place. Are they even patients?

 

When he takes a look through the window, he feels as if he's trapped in a still picture.

 

It feels so weird to think that people go about their days, life just keeps going on. The sun shines brightly. The proper spring is just around the corner, and the cherry blossom trees are soon in full bloom. While there's another cherry blossom tree growing in his lungs.

 

When he's called by his name, his steps feel heavy as he enters the room. He sits down silently on the chair pointed at him. The room is sterile and has a distinct scent of disinfectant with white walls and bright fluorescent lights overhead. He doesn't understand why hospitals have to be like that - the surroundings have always made him feel sick even though he sometimes hasn't even been while being there.

 

The doctor, a middle-aged woman with gentle eyes, studies him for a moment before starting to explain. She says she reviewed Taiga's blood test results and detailed her findings, and it's now sure that Taiga has the hanahaki disease.

 

The diagnosis merely confirms what he's known all along. His body is betraying him, slowly but surely.

 

The doctor watches Taiga with a gentle yet serious demeanor.

 

"And I'm afraid the test results aren't deceiving us," she continues calmly. "The disease type we're dealing with is, unfortunately, malignant."

 

Taiga's lips twitch with bitter amusement.

 

"Why am I not surprised," he replies dryly.

 

The doctor nods in understanding, her gaze filled with compassion. She's probably trained to do it in front of the mirror, just like all the actors do. She's perhaps more interested in getting off work to go home and keeps thinking about what to cook for her children in the evening, but she must go on with the script.

 

"I know this must be difficult to hear."

 

Well, that doesn't really console me, Taiga thinks to himself but doesn't say it aloud.

 

"How much do I have time?" he asks bluntly instead. If he's going to die, he at least wants to know how long he can live.

 

"It's hard to say," the doctor says carefully. "Hanahaki disease progresses differently for each person. But we'll do everything we can to help you."

 

Taiga nods, though it feels as if someone's squeezing his throat tightly. He knows the reality of his situation all too well, the plant being just a sprout now but growing each day.

 

"What are my options?"

 

The doctor leans forward, her expression staying sympathetic. "There are a few different treatment options we can explore. We can prescribe medication to help manage your symptoms and ease your discomfort. We can also discuss surgical interventions to remove the growing from your lungs, although that carries its own risks."

 

Taiga stays silent. He knows those risks all too well since he has read enough about the disease. The potential for serious complications, the high possibility of losing all memories. They say it's like wiping away the painful feelings, but no one ever talks enough about the memories holding also dearest memories. All those memories are something that his whole life is based on.

 

"It's losing memories and feelings, isn't it?"

 

The doctor nods but looks a bit hesitant. "Yes, that's one of the risks. But, as I said, it's important to remember that each patient is different. Some recover quite nicely after rehabilitation and are able to recall various aspects of their past. Like what used to be their favorite food or what kind of music they used to listen to. Hearing and taste senses can be more responsive to recollection than others."

 

Once again, it's not really consoling.

 

"Unless, of course-" the doctor continues but then pauses as she gives Taiga a look from which he can't tell what's about to come. Then he realizes it is too late since the doctor is already approaching the topic he's been trying to avoid.

 

"-unless there is a way or possibility to discuss with the person who is behind your symptoms. I mean, this disease doesn't come out of nowhere. We can always book a consultant for you if you're interested-"

 

"No. No, no, no. Not possible." Taiga feels the uncomfortable feeling appearing immediately. They shouldn't go there. He doesn't want to go there. Even in his thoughts, he doesn't want to go there. He's tried his best to forget, so the last thing he should do would be to bring everything back to his thoughts.

 

Luckily, the doctor doesn't push it further.

 

"Alright. Of course, we won't force it on anyone unless they want it. We can concentrate on treating the disease and the symptoms themselves."

 

"Hmph."

 

Then, the doctor offers Taiga another small smile as she reaches for a stack of brochures on the nearby shelf. She selects a few, and Taiga stares at the papers. Their glossy covers are full of images of smiling people.

 

"These brochures contain more information about the hanahaki disease and the various treatment options available. Remember, Kyomoto, hanahaki is something you can learn to live with."

 

The doctor hands Taiga a stack of brochures, and Taiga takes them without a word. His fingers tremble as he flips through them, pretending to read, even though his vision is blurred, and his mind feels blank. It's like he's forgotten how to read even the simplest characters. The bright images and upbeat titles ("Me & Hanahaki? It's Possible!", "Hope and Healing with Hanahaki", "Don't Let Hanahaki Define You") make him feel even sicker, like he's going to throw up at any second.

 

"We also have several support groups here at the hospital," the doctor continues. "Connecting with others who share your experiences can provide invaluable help during this challenging time."

 

"Thank you, but I'm not interested," Taiga shakes his head immediately. He is not interested in other people's sob stories.

 

"Your decision, of course. I'll give you the card and the information anyway. Just in case you change your mind."

 

The doctor hands Taiga a card, and he takes it with a numb nod, sliding it into his pocket without looking at it. It's just... too much. The sterile smell, the muted colors of the brochures, the doctor’s kind but distant demeanor. All of that blur together, creating a surreal and almost dreamlike atmosphere. He feels like he’s floating, disconnected from everything around him.

 

*****

 

Their sense of humor just clicked. Taiga had never thought anyone would actually find his dry, laconic jokes funny. Most people just didn't get his humor, often mistaking it for rudeness. But with Hokuto, it was different. He effortlessly caught onto Taiga's wit, laughing along with each quip, making Taiga feel understood in a way he hadn't before.

 

Hokuto showed remarkable thoughtfulness, constantly lifting spirits and offering encouragement to everyone, including Taiga, despite Taiga's singing still needing refinement in many aspects. Hokuto seized every opportunity to spread positivity, whether through grand gestures or small gestures of kindness, and Taiga couldn't help but admire that aspect of his character.

 

"Well, some people just have a knack for it," Juri remarked one day in response after Taiga had spent a good moment going on about Hokuto's attentiveness. Taiga didn't usually talk to Juri about his colleagues at work because the cast was changing for each production, and most of the names wouldn't tell Juri anything anyway. But for some reason, he had told everything about Hokuto already.

 

"Yeah, but Hokuto takes it to a whole other level. He's always finding ways to lift people's spirits, even when they don't realize they need it. He's so attentive. I think he's become everyone's favorite in the whole theater."

 

Juri didn't comment on that but only reached out to take a control switch from the coffee table. He looked thoughtful for a moment as if debating whether to say something. Eventually, he couldn't hold it back any longer.

 

"By the way, sometimes I wonder if you have a little crush on that guy."

 

Taiga's face fell before he could stop it. Unfortunately, Juri was also quick enough to notice that. He clicked his tongue.

 

"Okayyy there," Juri said. "I was just kidding, but apparently, my words did hit somewhere-"

 

"They didn't hit anywhere," Taiga muttered. He had never been the type to go so far as to confess to himself that he liked someone, let alone do something about it. So, the whole discussion was pointless.

 

"So, what's the deal? He likes you too, or what?"

 

That was a very good question.

 

Taiga always felt a weird thrill of excitement whenever he saw a message from Hokuto on his phone. However, it was often hard to gauge whether his excitement stemmed from Hokuto's infrequent texting habits - it usually took him a while to even notice the message, let alone respond. Taiga couldn't explain it, but there was always something twisting in his stomach whenever he saw that his message had been read but a reply from Hokuto would come only hours later.

 

What truly made Hokuto's messages special, though, was their length. Like he had actually used time and energy to write all that. Although they could be a bit rambling and nonsensical at times, they always felt distinctly like him. But if he sent messages like that only to Taiga? Unlikely. If he like-liked Taiga? Even more unlikely.

 

"Even if liked him," Taiga made sure to put the emphasis on the word, "it wouldn't matter because I'm pretty sure I've understood very clearly all the hidden messages he's been showing."

 

"Well, if I were you," Juri said. "I'd just ask him. It's not so hard."

 

"There's no point in asking about anything. The last two times I've attempted to invite him somewhere, he's declined. If he wanted to spend time with me, it'd be his turn."

 

"Not like you've been counting or anything," Juri commented dryly.

 

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Taiga asked, feeling his face flush a little bit.

 

"It means you're obviously more invested than you want to admit," Juri said. "If you're keeping track of who invites who, it's clear you care more than you're letting on."

 

Taiga sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, maybe I am. But that doesn't change anything. I'm tired of putting in all the effort and getting nothing in return."

 

"Maybe he's just clueless. Or maybe he's waiting for you to make a move because he's just as unsure as you are."

 

Taiga shook his head. "Or maybe he just doesn't care. Either way, I'm done chasing him like an idiot."

 

"Alright," Juri shrugged. "Just promise me you'll keep an open mind. Sometimes things aren't as black and white as they seem."

 

Later that night in his bed, as he mulled over Juri's words, Taiga found himself replaying their interactions with Hokuto in his mind. But try as he might, Taiga couldn't shake the feeling that he was reading too much into things, grasping at straws in a desperate attempt to make sense of his own emotions.

 

But then, almost like reading his mind, a message from Hokuto popped up on his phone screen, breaking through the haze of his thoughts.

 

from Hokuto

Hey, Kyomochan!🚁🍍 I know it's last minute, but I managed to get tickets to that concert you mentioned last week🐼🎍 Would you like to go with me?🦡 Should be a blast! Let me know what you think. 😊

 

Taiga's heart skipped a beat as he read the message. He typed out his response quickly.

 

to Hokuto

That sounds amazing. I'd love to go with you. Thanks for thinking of me.

 

*****

 

Taiga goes two floors down to the pharmacy section.

 

"Got a prescription to pick up," he says, pulling out the slip from his pocket and passing it through the window.

 

When the pharmacist returns with five small bags, Taiga takes them all without a word of thanks. He can't force himself to have the energy to express gratitude, not when he feels so hollow inside. It's so weird to feel so numb at the same time when the pain inside him is throbbing.

 

He wonders if he'll ever feel truly alive again. If this feeling will just last forever, until he will simply forget everything and be gone.

 

Once outside, Taiga takes a deep breath, hoping the fresh air will clear his mind. But the oppressive feeling doesn't lift. He stands there for a moment, staring blankly at the world around him. People bustle by, completely unaware of the distress he holds inside.

 

******

 

When he arrived at the park, Taiga found a nice spot. He set down a blue plastic rug and sat down on it. His guitar rested against his knees as he stared at the pink blossoms swaying gently in the breeze.

 

Taiga absolutely loved spring, and interestingly, he had learned to love it more and more as he had got older.

 

There was something about the fleeting beauty of the cherry blossoms, their delicate petals falling like soft pink snow. It was a bittersweet reminder of how ephemeral life could be and how precious each moment was.

 

He adjusted his guitar, his fingers lightly strumming the strings. The park was quiet, with only the occasional laughter of children in the distance and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. He closed his eyes, letting the peaceful atmosphere wash over him, trying to find solace in the simplicity of the moment.

 

Taiga began to play. The way his hands and fingers moved on the guitar was gentle. As if he were pouring his delicate emotions into each chord. He sang softly.

 

He had written the song a long time ago. Years ago. Now, the lyrics felt a bit distant, but he was still pretty proud of the outcome.

 

Lost in his music, Taiga didn't pay attention to the people around him until a familiar voice broke through his reverie.

 

“That’s a beautiful song.”

 

Startled, Taiga looked up to see Hokuto standing a few feet away, a soft smile on his lips. Taiga's heart skipped a beat, though he immediately realized it was a bit silly to react that way.

 

“What are you doing here?” Taiga asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

 

"They suggested someone to go and keep you company," Hokuto explained. "It'd be boring for you to spend hours here alone and keep the spot reserved for everyone."

 

"And you don't find it boring? Aren't you busy with something else?"

 

Hokuto smiled amusedly. "My whole life is boring. I take a bath every evening and read, and literally just wait until I get back to work because I have no idea what else to do in my free time. You think such a boring un-busy person would have any right to call all this boring?" He made a gesture with his head, and Taiga must admit that the surroundings were nothing but boring.

 

Taiga chuckled at that. "Oh wow, okay then. I was just a bit surprised. But welcome then to my boring un-busy company, I guess?"

 

"Great, we can be un-busy and boring together."

 

Hokuto grinned as he settled down beside Taiga. He gestured with his head and directed his gaze towards Taiga's guitar on his feet.

 

"So, you play? Guitar, I mean. I had no clue. For how long?"

 

"Still practicing, to be honest. It's been a while since I started, but it's almost embarrassing to reveal how long ago it was because I probably should be much better."

 

"Oh, don't say it. I can't even hold any instrument properly without looking all clumsy. Can be such a burden if I'm playing the role of a musician."

 

Taiga smiled. He knew the feeling, trying to look convincing in whatever role he was playing while trying his best to remember lines and add the right feeling to the scene. Sometimes, they had to play a character who was a whole different from their real-life selves.

 

"By the way, I brought some beer. Don't worry, it's non-alcohol," Hokuto said, taking two cans out of the plastic bag and throwing the other one to Taiga.

 

"Oh. Thank you," Taiga said. He opened the can and took a sip.

 

"So, do you write your own songs often?" Hokuto asked, tilting his head as he watched Taiga's fingers glide over the strings. He drank from his own beer.

 

"Only sometimes. It's more of a hobby than anything serious. I find it therapeutic, though. Helps me process things, you know?"

 

"I get that. I've tried writing once or twice, but I always end up cringing at my own words. Guess I'm better at interpreting someone else's lines than creating my own."

 

Taiga chuckled. "Yeah, but you do it so well. I remember the first time we had to do a script reading for that sad scene. You cried there! I was amazed at how you could get so deeply into the character."

 

Hokuto laughed, a bit embarrassed. "I cry too easily. It's almost a running joke now. If there's a sad scene, everyone just waits for me to start tearing up. It’s like a reflex."

 

"Oh, I didn't know it was a thing with you?"

 

"Yeah, I guess I get too invested," Hokuto admitted. "It's not always easy to separate myself from the character. But it's also what makes me love acting so much. To feel various emotions so deeply. And then convey those emotions to others."

 

Taiga nodded in agreement. "That's what makes you a great actor then, Hokuto. Your ability to immerse yourself in the role and bring those genuine emotions to life."

 

Hokuto smiled a bit shyly, looking down at a can in his hand. "Thanks, Kyomo. That means a lot coming from you."

 

There was a moment of comfortable silence as they both sipped their drinks while Taiga also kept strumming a few random chords.  

 

"Do you ever think about where you'll be in a few years?" Hokuto asked all of a sudden.

 

Taiga had to take a good pause to consider the question. "Sometimes. I hope to keep doing what I love, you know? Acting, singing on stage. But it's hard to predict the future. What about you?"

 

"Honestly, I'm not used to voicing my dreams," Hokuto said. He shrugged and looked unbothered. "But maybe I've come to realize it’s not about reaching a specific place. Maybe it’s about the journey and the growth that comes with it."

 

That was very wisely worded.

 

"That's a good way to look at it," Taiga said thoughtfully.

 

They continued talking, sharing stories, and laughing at their shared quirks and the oddities of their lives. As the evening wore on, the park grew more bustling, the sky transitioning to deep blue with stars beginning to peek through. Eventually, a few other theater people joined them, bringing more food and drinks. The group settled in, the conversation flowing easily as they kept talking about the production and goals for the future. As always, everyone hoped to see each other again, maybe working on other productions in the future.

 

When Hokuto started gathering his things, Taiga found himself blurting out, "Hey, I'll walk with you to the station."

 

Hokuto looked pleasantly surprised. "Sure, I'd like that."

 

They walked in companionable silence, the cool night air crisp around them. Taiga wanted to prolong their time together. He played with an idea to suggest going to Hokuto's house or finding another way to extend the evening, but he didn't dare.

 

At the station, they lingered for a moment near the gates.

 

"Thanks for today," Taiga said, his voice soft.

 

"Anytime. I'll see you soon, okay?" Hokuto replied.

 

As Hokuto went through the ticket gates, Taiga watched him until he was out of sight. Even after that, he stood there for a while.

 

*****

 

As Taiga returns home late, he finds Juri already preparing to leave for work. Their paths briefly cross in the narrow hallway.

 

They decided to move to a shared apartment five years ago, and it's been going very well, although Taiga typically returns from the last show when Juri is about to leave for his work at the bar. Tonight, though, Taiga has taken a little longer to get back, not because of his work but because he spent hours in the park after the hospital visit. He sat on the bench, staring into nothing, his head full of thoughts and, for the first time, not feeling like going home.

 

"So, what did the doctor say?" Juri asks as he puts his jacket on.

 

Taiga shrugs. He can feel the tension in his shoulders that comes from the question. Of course, Juri wants to know.

 

"Nothing much," he replies, trying his best to keep his voice neutral. "Just the usual."

 

Juri arches an eyebrow, his gaze probing Taiga's face. "The usual?"

 

Taiga nods. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a small medicine dispenser. He holds it up for Juri to see. "It's just my old asthma acting up because of being so busy and stressed recently. Got all these pills. And I need to put my old inhalator to more use, as well."

 

Juri's expression softens with understanding and he seems to take in Taiga's explanation. He's already late, so luckily, he wouldn't even have time to stop on that too long.

 

"Ah, I see. Well, I'm glad it's nothing serious."

 

Taiga offers a tight smile in response. He's not good at hiding things, but he doesn't want to worry Juri. Not now.

 

"Yeah, me too."

 

*****

 

Their days fell into a rhythm of rehearsals, and the theater became their second home, as it always did with a new production. 

 

Mornings always began with warm-ups, followed by singing sessions before lunch and choreography rehearsals later in the afternoon. Taiga found solace in these routines.  The best thing was that he was able to spend all his work days with Hokuto, that he actually had a friend with whom he could share the whole experience. Their friendship, still a bit distant, was evolving in its own unique way. Hokuto's personality seemed to have layers upon layers, fascinating Taiga in ways he couldn't quite put into words.

 

During their breaks between rehearsals, Taiga often found himself chatting with only Hokuto. They would engage in different conversations, and Taiga felt a genuine connection between them, a friendship that seemed to defy their clear differences.

 

Between rehearsal songs, they would glance at each other, sometimes exchanging tiny winks or mouthing the lyrics along with the music director.

 

The only thing that sometimes bothered Taiga was that Hokuto did seem to hold some things to himself. He wasn't the type to volunteer information about certain aspects of his life unless Taiga specifically asked about them. This occasional reticence left Taiga feeling like there were parts of Hokuto's world that remained closed off, adding a layer of mystery to him. 

 

One day, after another rigorous day of rehearsals, Taiga found himself staying a bit later in the theater, running through his lines one last time before calling it a night. As he gathered his belongings and prepared to leave, Mr. Yamamoto's voice rang out from across the stage.

 

"Kyomoto, could I have a word with you?" the director called, beckoning Taiga over with a gesture.

 

Taiga frowned at the unexpected request. He glanced around, noting the curious gazes of his colleagues, before making his way towards Mr. Yamamoto.

 

"Sure, what's up?" Taiga asked. 

 

Mr. Yamamoto motioned for Taiga to follow him to his office. Once there, he beckoned him to take a seat, his expression unreadable.

 

"Before we all head home, I have something to talk about with you," Mr. Yamamoto began with a serious face. "We've been working with this casting company for a new movie project, and after negotiating this with them, they'd like to offer a significant side character role to one of our current cast." He paused for dramatic effect, then turned his look to Taiga. "Kyomoto, we'd like to offer this role to you. Your performance here has been outstanding, and we believe you'd be perfect for this part. We already suggested you to the casting company, and they showed a green light after seeing you on stage."

 

Taiga felt a rush of conflicting emotions. He had always dreamed of such an opportunity, yet the timing felt off.

 

His thoughts went immediately to Hokuto. They had been talking about it together and that such a movie project would be great but also challenging. And they had come to the conclusion that it'd be good to stick together. Taiga realized he had found some kind of support from Hokuto that he didn't know could exist. He could feel that Hokuto was most probably feeling exactly the same.

 

Taiga forced a smile, bowing politely. "Thank you very much, Mr. Yamamoto. I'm honored by the offer."

 

Mr. Yamamoto nodded, pleased. "We'll give you some time to think it over, but we hope you'll accept this. It would be a fantastic step in your career."

 

Once outside the office, Taiga found himself lingering, his mind racing with thoughts of the future. He desperately wanted to seize the opportunity, but a part of him was tethered to the present, to the little moments he shared with Hokuto.

 

The following days went on like he was walking in a fog. During rehearsals, Taiga found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. He stumbled over his lines, missed cues, and his singing lacked its usual fervor. Hokuto noticed and tried to ask about it carefully at some point, but Taiga blamed it on his tiredness. Which wasn't entirely a lie. 

 

On the fourth day after that, Taiga found himself sitting alone in a small café near the theater, staring at his untouched coffee. The words of Mr. Yamamoto echoed in his mind: “It would be a fantastic step in your career.”

 

But what kind of career did he want? Did he want to pursue something that would take him away from the comfort and support he had found with the current theater group? And not only that, Hokuto’s presence had become an integral part of his life, a source of unexpected strength and comfort he couldn't explain. Both professionally as well as privately. Their friendship, although still delicate and evolving, meant more to Taiga than he could put into words. The thought of leaving that behind filled him with an uncomfortable feeling.

 

Later on that day, Taiga went to Mr. Yamamoto’s office. The director looked up from his desk, a hopeful expression on his face.

 

“Kyomoto, have you made your decision?” Mr. Yamamoto asked.

 

Taiga took a deep breath. “Yes, I have. I appreciate the offer more than I can say, but I’ve decided to decline. My place is here, with the theater and the people I care about.”

 

Mr. Yamamoto’s expression shifted from disappointment to understanding. “Alright. I respect your decision. It’s not an easy choice to make, but you have to do what feels right for you.”

 

And as the lights dimmed and the curtain rose on their performance that night, Taiga knew he was exactly where he was meant to be. He had absolutely no regrets.

 

*****

 

Taiga sits in the living room, staring blankly at the television screen. He can't focus. He absently fingers the remote control, flipping through the channels without staying for a few seconds on each one, not really watching anything properly.

 

Suddenly, coughs wrack his body, and there seems to be no end to his coughing this time; each cough is more forceful than the last. He coughs again and again until he feels a burning feeling deep in his chest.

 

Taiga stands up and stumbles into the bathroom, clutching his chest as the burning feeling intensifies. He manages to lock the door behind him and take a grip on the sink before he coughs again.

 

With that last wrenching cough, he spits a cluster of petals into the sink. He gasps for more air until his breathing has calmed down a little bit.

 

Taiga stops as he stares at the petals scattered against the white, glassy surface. The petals look so disgusting like that, all drenched and slimy, sticking together in a clump.

 

Why? he thinks. Why does this have to happen?

 

He raises his head, and his reflection in the mirror looks back at him, his face all pale and his eyes red and watering. He opens the faucet and splashes some cold water against his face. Then he rinses his mouth and watches the petals in the water swirl, washing them down the drain.

 

*****

 

The silence was only broken by the faint murmur of voices drifting in from the hallway outside. Taiga barely registered them at first. Until the voices became more clear, and although he didn't want to eavesdrop, he couldn't help overhearing a conversation between two of their colleagues.

 

"Did you hear? Matsumura Hokuto accepted the role. He's going to have a big side role in the new nationwide movie," one of them said.

 

A sudden leaden weight settled in Taiga's chest in a second. He strained to hear more, his pulse quickening in his ears. He hoped he had heard it all wrong.

 

"Yeah, I heard! He didn't waste any time accepting it either. I guess they really wanted him for the part," the other person replied. "He's been talking about wanting to leave this theater behind anyway, so it must be a perfect situation for him."

 

It sounded like Hokuto had already accepted the role, which had originally been planned for Taiga. That already caused an uncomfortable strain in his neck, but the following thought made it even worse as Taiga realized it; Hokuto had accepted the role immediately, while he had been the one hesitating, wishing for and clinging to something stupid that couldn't matter a less to Hokuto.

 

The realization hit him hard. Taiga had been holding back, hoping that staying together in the theater might bring them even closer, but Hokuto had moved on without hesitation. He hadn't even considered informing Taiga about it, and he obviously hadn't hesitated to say goodbye to their future projects together. 

 

Later, in the dressing room, Taiga sat at his dressing table. He could sense Hokuto in the same room, but he kept his back turned at him, making sure that there would be no eye contact through the mirror. 

 

Hokuto approached him when everyone else was out. He came to stand next to Taiga and nudged him. Usually, they didn't touch, so that small gesture was surprising.

 

"Hey, everything okay?"

 

Taiga's jaw clenched as he avoided Hokuto's gaze. "Yeah, everything's just peachy," he muttered, failing completely to hide his annoyance.

 

"You seem off. Did something happen?"

 

Taiga shot him a glare, his patience wearing thin as he looked at Hokuto's face. "What do you care? You've got your own stuff to worry about."

 

Hokuto recoiled slightly at the sharpness of Taiga's words, but he didn't back down. "Well, I care because you're my friend, Kyomochan. And if something's bothering you, I want to help."

 

"Help? Like you helped by accepting the movie role without even telling me?"

 

Hokuto's expression shifted from concern to surprise. "What are you talking about?"

 

"Don't play dumb with me, Hokuto," Taiga snapped. "I heard the others talking. You accepted that role in the new movie."

 

"Oh yeah, I was about to tell you that in private but I didn't have a chance yet. I only got to know myself earlier today. But isn't it great? First, Mr. Yamamoto called me in, and then-"

 

"You can stop bragging. I'm not interested in hearing all that."

 

Hokuto quieted down. He furrowed his brow with a confused expression. "What's going on? Are you angry about something?"

 

"Angry?" Taiga scoffed. He laughed bitterly. "I get to hear about your new role through other people and you didn't tell me you even auditioned. Then you come to me like nothing and start bragging about your great achievements. And then on top of that, you have the guts to ask me if I'm angry about you something? Care to tell me, when were you planning to tell me? When it'd be your last day here? Or even after that, huh?"

 

"I was about to tell you, of course. But I wasn't thinking it was that relevant for you to know immediately at that very second. I mean, it's my job, not yours"

 

Taiga's temper flared even more at Hokuto's apparent ignorance and the choice of his words. "That's not the point, Hokuto! The point is that you always seem to get everything you want without even trying. It's not fair."

 

Hokuto stared at Taiga. "I've worked hard for this. It's my dream. You, if anyone, should know that very well."

 

"Well, congratulations then. Congratulations on finally being able to leave this shitty theater behind." Congratulations on leaving me behind, he added bitterly to himself in his mind.

 

"I still don't understand why you're so upset. There's more to this, isn't there?"

 

Taiga's gaze dropped to the floor. He couldn't bring himself to admit that maybe his anger stemmed from some sort of jealousy, maybe from fear of losing Hokuto, maybe from feeling overlooked. Maybe those all were the real reasons. But they all sounded childish even to his own ear.

 

Somewhere deep inside, Taiga knew he should be happy for Hokuto and he was being unfair. He wanted to be happy for him, he really did. But telling himself he should be feeling something didn't make the ache in his chest disappear. The bitterness, the hurt—it all had bubbled up, clouding his judgment. Somehow, being angry felt easier than admitting he was weak and feared feeling lonely again, just like he had been feeling for a long time before meeting Hokuto.

 

"You wouldn't understand," Taiga muttered.

 

"Then help me understand, please. We're friends, right? I can't understand you if you're not talking about it to me."

 

Taiga's shoulders tensed, and he shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it, okay? Not with you, not with anyone. We're not friends. So, could you just drop it?"

 

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Hokuto stood there, clearly hurt and unsure how to bridge the gap that had suddenly appeared between them. Taiga still refused to look at him, focusing instead on the things on his dressing table.

 

Finally, Hokuto sighed. "Fine. If you don't want to talk, then I won't force you."

 

He turned to leave, pausing at the door. "I seriously thought you'd be happy for me. But apparently, I was all wrong about you." He sounded disappointed.

 

Taiga's heart ached at Hokuto's words, the sting of them cutting deeper than he cared to admit. But his pride kept him from responding, his jaw clenching as he swallowed back angry words he would have liked to say.

 

*****

 

Taiga stares at the script open on the coffee table. The conversation with his doctor replays in his head. It's like a relentless loop that refuses to fade.

 

"There's a possibility that the surgery could result in memory loss," the doctor had confirmed.

 

He rises from the couch and wanders aimlessly around the room. What would it mean to lose his memories? To forget the people he loves, the experiences that have shaped him, the very essence of who he is? Taiga's gaze lands on the photo of him and Juri on top of the shelf, and a sharp pain lances through his chest.

 

He moves to the window, staring out at the city lights twinkling in the distance. His reflection in the glass looks back at him, a ghost of the person he used to be. He can't bear the thought of becoming a stranger to himself, of looking in the mirror and not recognizing the face staring back.

 

What if he can't sing anymore? Singing has always been his refuge, his way of expressing emotions he can't put into words. It's more than just a talent, it's a part of his soul. The idea of losing that, of opening his mouth and finding nothing there, sounds so scary.

 

And his family—his parents—what if he forgets them too? The thought of not remembering his mother's laugh, his father's advice, all the little moments that have made up their life together fills him with an aching sadness. Right now, when he closes his eyes, he can picture his parents' faces, and it makes him feel something. But what if one day, those faces mean nothing to him? What if he sees them and feels nothing, no love? He thinks about the future, about the life he might lose. He thinks about the dreams he has yet to achieve and the experiences he has yet to have. The idea of losing all of that, of becoming a stranger to himself, is terrifying. He doesn't want to forget the person he is. Despite how many times he's been thinking that he doesn't like himself, he has realized that being him is the thing that makes his life so precious, so unique from anyone else's. 

 

Taiga sinks to the floor, his back against the wall, and buries his face in his hands. But the tears don't come. His eyes remain dry, and the only thing he feels is a deep, aching emptiness.

 

*****

 

The next evening, Taiga arrived at the show feeling a mix of regret and apprehension that had appeared already when he had been on his way back home the previous evening. He had had time to think. In the end, he had spent a restless night thinking about his last exchange with Hokuto, replaying his harsh words over and over. As he walked into the dressing room area, he noticed Hokuto already there, chatting with a few other cast members as they were about to go for the makeup.

 

The corners of Hokuto's eyes briefly flicked over to Taiga as he noticed him. Yet, he didn't react in any other way. 

 

"Good evening," Taiga said politely as he joined the group, forcing a smile and trying to sound normal.

 

"Evening," Hokuto replied dryly. He excused himself quickly, muttering something about changing into his stage costume.

 

"Oh, is he alright?" someone asked Taiga, gesturing behind Hokuto. Taiga shrugged. 

 

Throughout the night, Taiga felt the weight of Hokuto's absence despite his physical presence. On stage, Hokuto was, of course, professional, delivering his lines and hitting his marks, but there was a noticeable distance between them during breaks behind the stage. Every time Taiga glanced in Hokuto's direction, he found him standing next to someone else, never sparing Taiga more than a quick glance and then turning his head away.

 

During intermission, Taiga couldn't hold it back any longer and approached Hokuto directly. He simply couldn't focus on his own work when Hokuto was acting like that. He wanted them to make up as soon as possible because it was ridiculous to sulk over such a meaningless thing from the previous day. Hell, Taiga had had worse fights with Juri, so there was no point he'd let such a thing become between him and Hokuto.

 

"Hokuto," Taiga called softly, catching up to him near the dressing rooms.

 

Hokuto turned, a look of mild annoyance crossing his face as he realized who was calling him. "What is it"

 

"Can we please talk?"

 

Hokuto glanced around, clearly uncomfortable. "Now's not the time. We have a performance to focus on."

 

"But that's the point," Taiga pressed. "I can't focus on anything when you're acting like this."

 

"Acting like what?"

 

"Like this," Taiga gestured between them. "Cold, distant, weird. Can you stop being like that and act normally? I'm sorry for what I said, and I didn't mean it."

 

Hokuto sighed. "Of course, I agree that we should talk this through at some point. But I think I need some time first. Just give me that, okay?"

 

"Time?" Taiga repeated. "Didn't you already have time yesterday? Look, I already told you I'm sorry. How much more time do you need?"

 

"I need enough time to think," Hokuto said calmly. "I need that to arrange my thoughts. I can't do that with you constantly in my face about this."

 

"I’m constantly in your face?" Taiga asked incredulously. "For your information, I don't need any time to think or, as you put it, arrange my thoughts. What is there even to think about?"

 

Seriously, Taiga couldn't understand at all. What did Hokuto even mean by all that? Why would he need time to think when there were only simple sorry's to say, and that's it? What was he about to think?

 

"I told you, now isn't the good time. We have a job to do."

 

"Can't we just talk it through quickly and then let it be?"

 

Hokuto's eyes flashed in a way they never did.

 

"You don’t get it, do you? It's not like you can come to me and blow up like that, then say sorry and assume that everything's all good again magically. Like I said, I need some time and space to sort my thoughts out, and I can't do that right now when there are only 15 minutes until the intermission is over. Don't cause a scene now."

 

"So, you're angry at me?"

 

"No, I'm not angry at you. I just need some time to think."

 

Taiga stared at him and felt the anger rising. He couldn't understand why Hokuto's calm expression and collected demeanor triggered him. Without doing anything, it felt like Hokuto was pressing some buttons, which made Taiga even more annoyed. 

 

"Fine," Taiga then blurted. "Maybe you should sort it out on your own then completely. I can leave you alone forever if that's what you want me to do."

 

Hokuto's expression hardened, and he stepped closer to Taiga. "If you can't respect my need for some space, then maybe you need to figure out what's wrong with you."

 

Taiga glared at him, and he slipped out something he instantly regretted.

 

"Maybe nothing's wrong with me. I wouldn't cause a scene if you weren't so damn difficult to deal with to begin with."

 

Hokuto's eyes narrowed, and a flicker of hurt fell across his face. But Taiga couldn't stop himself from continuing.

 

"You know what? Maybe this whole thing was a mistake, getting to even know you in the first place. I thought we were friends, but clearly, you're just a childish selfish person who only cares about himself."

 

Hokuto's fists clenched at his sides. "Selfish? You think I'm selfish?"

 

"Yes!" Taiga said. "You never let anyone in. You keep everything to yourself and ask for endless time to yourself while not caring at all about what other people might be feeling. And you just expect everyone else to just deal with it. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to have a person like you in life?"

 

"Honestly, you think you're any better? You're so wrapped up in your own insecurities and jealousy that you can't see anything beyond your own nose."

 

Taiga felt a lump rise in his throat, but he pushed on, unable to stop.

 

"At least I try," he muttered. "I try to understand people and to be there for them. But you're just a closed book, impossible to read, impossible to understand. It's all about you for yourself."

 

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Hokuto said. "You don't know anything about what I'm thinking, what I'm dealing with."

 

"And whose fault is that?" Taiga said back. "Maybe that's the problem that no one knows what you're thinking, what you're dealing with. You just assume it's fine for you to pry on other people's lives but not to give anything back."

 

"I'm done with this conversation," Hokuto said coldly. "If you can't see past your own issues, then maybe we're indeed better off without each other."

 

Without another word, Hokuto turned and walked away in the opposite direction from where he had been originally going, leaving Taiga standing there. As Taiga watched him go, he realized he might have just made things even worse, but he was too angry to care.

 

They managed to get through the performance, though Taiga could sense his singing was a bit off-key at times. The show eventually ended with rousing applause, but Taiga's heart wasn't in it. He went through the motions, barely registering the congratulatory pats on the back from his co-stars and the cheers from the audience. His mind was too full of the argument with Hokuto.

 

Backstage, Taiga half-expected Hokuto to approach him, but Hokuto kept his distance. Taiga thought it was unfair that Hokuto was acting like that. He had already ruined the entire stage play for them, keeping Taiga from focusing on the performance. And now, he still wasn't ready to reconcile, but he had left Taiga waiting like an idiot, which felt like the worst thing anyone could do to him.

 

Taiga had had enough. He gathered his things quickly and headed for the exit. When he passed by Hokuto, who was talking to another cast member, Taiga couldn't hold back. He stopped just long enough to mutter under his breath, "Leave it, whatever. I don't have anything to say to you any longer."

 

Hokuto turned but Taiga didn't stop to explain. He continued walking, pushing through the backstage door and heading outside.

 

*****

 

In one hand, Taiga holds his phone, its screen illuminated with the number he has painstakingly dialed and redialed a dozen times. In his other hand, he clutches a small card, its corners worn from being fiddled with incessantly.

 

Taking a deep breath, he finally presses the call button and brings the phone close to his ear. It rings once, twice, and then someone picks up on the other end.

 

"Hello," Taiga tries his best to sound composed. "Is this a number for a hanahaki peer support group?"

 

*****

 

Taiga had made a decision. He had decided that he wouldn't be the one to contact Hokuto first anymore. He had always been the one to reach out, to mend the gaps, to apologize first when there was a reason to do so. It had made him feel pathetic and clingy, constantly chasing after Hokuto's attention. This time, he would stop. He would wait and see if Hokuto would make the effort to reach out to him. He was tired of being the only one who gave anything to their so-called friendship. 

 

He resolved to focus on his own life, to find contentment and fulfillment without constantly seeking Hokuto's validation. He would wait and see when Hokuto would get in contact with him, if at all. It was a way of reclaiming his own sense of dignity. Deep inside, he hoped so badly that Hokuto would realize what they had lost and make the first move. But if not, Taiga would no longer be the one to break the silence, he was too angry and disappointed to do that any longer. He had made enough sacrifices from his side, so now it was Hokuto's turn to show if he cared at all. 

 

Surprisingly, things between him and Hokuto at the theater became more bearable, though. They started acting more normally, exchanging polite greetings and occasional small talk. It wasn't the same as before, but it was better than the cold distance that had settled between them. 

 

But despite that, they never apologized to each other properly. Never had a proper discussion, just the two of them. Hokuto never sent Taiga a message. Every day, Taiga would check his phone, a part of him hoping for a text from Hokuto, but it never came. As the days turned into weeks and their performances went on, Taiga began to accept the silence.

 

One evening, he finally muted their conversation on LINE. It was a symbolic gesture, a way of letting go of the hope that Hokuto would reach out. Taiga couldn't keep waiting forever. Muting the conversation felt like closing a chapter, allowing him to move forward without constantly looking for something that clearly had never been there. It was better like that. If Hokuto wanted to be his friend again, he should know where to find him.

 

*****

The support group meeting is held in a small room hidden in the hospital's labyrinthine halls. When Taiga enters the room, he sees a small group of people and some chairs in a circle. Taiga avoids people's curious looks but sits down in one of the seats. He already regrets that he's even come there. He can't help but feel that he'd rather be anywhere else. 

 

When the session starts, the group leader, a man in his mid-twenties, rises to his feet and greets them warmly.

 

"Welcome, everyone," he begins, his gaze sweeping over the group. "I'm glad to see each of you here today. This is a safe space, a place where we can come together to share our experiences and support one another. The personal matters shared here, as well as participant names, will stay here, so everything will be confidential. My name is Kochi Yugo, and I'm in charge of leading the conversation in this group."

 

As Kochi goes on with his introduction, Taiga fidgets in his seat uncomfortably, his gaze wandering around the corners of the room. He's afraid of looking at other people.

 

"I can tell that we have some new faces here. If you want to, you could do a short introduction of yourself and your background with the disease. Maybe you can start?"

 

First, a short woman rises to her feet. She looks frail and thin, half of her face covered with a face mask. She clears her throat. "My name is Kanda Emi. And I have hanahaki disease."

 

Taiga scoffs to himself.

 

"I've lived with this disease for as long as I can remember," the woman continues. "It started innocently enough, it was just a small crush on a childhood friend that blossomed into something more. But as the years went by, so too did the intensity of my feelings, until the sickness showed up."

 

The woman delves into the details of her story, but Taiga can't focus on listening to her. He can't help but think how he doesn't understand this. He can't understand why all of them subject themselves to such suffering, allowing their emotions to spiral out of control. It's impossible to understand why they let things get so out of hand.

 

As the woman has finally finished her story and takes her seat, Kochi thanks her and then turns his attention to Taiga.

 

"You're also new here. Would you like to share anything?" he asks gently.

 

Taiga feels the weight of everyone's eyes turning to him. He moves a bit on his chair nervously.

 

"Um, hi. I'm Kyomoto Taiga, and I'm not really sure what's going on with me."

 

He hesitates, feeling a lump forming in his throat. Every second feels like an eternity. The gazes of others seem to bore into him, filled with something he can't quite place. Maybe pity. Taiga despises it. He doesn't need these people's pity, their unwanted attention. He never asked for any of this, and he didn't want to be here in the first place. Pity is the last thing he's looking for. Pity from these pathetic people is certainly the very last thing he's looking for.

 

"I think I might have some unresolved feelings for someone I shouldn't. Or well, it's quite clear that I have feelings for them, go figure. Anyway, it's kind of hopeless. It's not even kind of hopeless, it's impossible. I've been just really stupid. I messed up with things and I can only blame myself."

 

A heavy silence fills the room as Taiga's words hang in the air. He doesn't understand why no one says anything.

 

Luckily, Kochi comes to help, although he continues with a question that doesn't make the situation any less difficult.

 

"And how does all that make you feel, Kyomoto?"

 

Taiga can only muster a weak shrug at that. "I don't know," he says, his unsure voice trailing off until it again fades into an awkward silence.

 

"That's the thing," he finally adds.

 

A dozen sympathetic expressions are directed his way and that only heightens his discomfort. Each sad look feels like a spotlight shining directly on his insecurities.

 

"Alright. I'm going to stop torturing you for now," Kochi says with a small, understanding smile. "It's okay. It's normal to have difficulties speaking up."

 

Difficulties speaking up. Kochi says it like that would be new for Taiga.

 

*****

 

Then came a particular Wednesday evening, and they were doing final greetings among the whole cast. The last performance was over, and it was always emotional. The stage was filled with laughter, tears, and heartfelt words as everyone reflected on the journey they had shared. The audience cheered at them with final applause, and the buzz of excitement was clearly in the air, but for Taiga, all that was bittersweet.

 

Backstage, Hokuto was surrounded by well-wishers, his face lit with a bright smile. Taiga watched from a distance as everyone wished him good luck for his future endeavors. They hadn't had a chance to talk properly, and honestly, Taiga had almost forgotten what they had been fighting over in the first place. But he knew he couldn't let Hokuto leave without saying something to him.

 

In the middle of the corridor, Hokuto was already walking away when Taiga managed to call his name behind him. Hokuto turned around. 

 

"Hey, Hokuto," Taiga began awkwardly. 

 

"What is it?"

 

Taiga hesitated. He would have liked to say that he missed their old times together and regretted their stupid fight. He regretted telling Hokuto that he wouldn't be his friend because that wasn't true. He regretted making that stupid resolution to himself that he wouldn't be the one reaching out any longer.

 

But Taiga didn't know how to put it into words. His pride was still somewhere in the back of his head, reminding him that Hokuto, indeed, hadn't been in contact with him and had just continued living his days like nothing. And the fact that Hokuto was leaving was still real.

 

Hokuto looked at him questioningly, but suddenly, Taiga could only concentrate on looking at his outdoor jacket on and bag thrown over his shoulder. Hokuto was about to leave. He was really leaving. He was leaving in every way a person could leave.

 

The timing wasn't right, Taiga realized. It wasn't the right moment to pour out his heart like an idiot, to confess something that he wasn't even sure of himself what to confess. It was not the right moment when Hokuto was already halfway out the door, halfway out the whole theater, and he had that look on his face that was telling Taiga to be quick whatever he had to say to him.

 

Hokuto stayed motionless for a moment longer as if indeed waiting for more. But Taiga couldn't force himself to speak. He remained silent, shuffling his feet.

 

A smile appeared on Hokuto's lips. But it wasn't that genuine smile, not the one he had shown at the hanami picnic during the spring or during their first meeting at the canteen. No, it looked as if he had pulled a mask over his face and was now hiding everything behind that professional actor's face, everything deeper and personal that Taiga had thought he had once seen glimpses of.

 

"Well, I think I'll see you around again?" Hokuto finally said, and what Taiga really wanted to say at that was no, please don't leave me, I'm not okay, let's talk, yet he couldn't let such words out.

 

"Yeah, see you around," he said instead. "Good luck, Hokuto."

 

"Good luck to you, too," Hokuto wished with a wave. Then he turned around and started walking away.

 

Taiga was left standing in the corridor. He simply watched Hokuto's back diminish and eventually disappear behind the corner. Taiga couldn't shake the feeling that some things had been left forever unsaid between them. 

 

For the first time, he realized that maybe his heart had broken a little bit. The emptiness he felt wasn't just about their unresolved fight; it was about losing something he hadn't even fully understood he had wanted in a way he could never have.

 

Truthfully, Taiga had never pictured a perfect happily-ever-after for them. He hadn't determined precisely what he wanted, but he had felt there had been something more between them. He had felt it. He had felt that their connection had been extraordinary, so unique it defied description. He had held onto the belief that there would have been more ahead for them. More time to sort everything out.

 

He had been so wrong.

 

*****

 

For the rest of the meeting, Taiga struggles even more to focus on what anyone else is saying. He keeps staring at the floor, feeling a growing sense of shame for his clumsy, inadequate words. As everyone else continues to speak, Taiga can't shake the feeling that they know exactly what to say and how to express themselves. It's as if they're fluent in a language that he just can't grasp. This has always been Taiga's problem, and it's a hard truth, realizing that his inability to communicate is a most probably big part of why he's ended up here.

 

When Kochi finally wraps up the meeting, he wishes them all well and hopes to see them again next time.

 

Taiga takes his time getting up from his chair while everyone else quietly disappears around him, slipping back into the anonymity of their own lives, as if the meeting never happened and their paths were never meant to intersect.

 

Taiga starts gathering his belongings in silence. Kochi keeps following him with his gaze, although he doesn't say anything. Yet, Taiga notices that.

 

Taiga decides to question something that bothers him.

 

"Can I ask why did you decide to lead this group?"

 

Kochi hums as he gathers his folders and puts them into his bag. "Can I ask why you are so interested in that?"

 

"Can you psychologists ask only questions during their therapy sessions and never offer anything back?"

 

Kochi smiles at that, his eyes turning into lines, and wrinkles appear around them. "Actually, first of all, I'm not a licensed psychologist. Second, therapy is a whole different thing from the peer support group."

 

"Right."

 

"But it's hard, isn't it?" Kochi continues. "It's hard to speak and open up to someone who isn't sharing anything about themselves. It can feel unnatural at first, but I assure you that within time, it becomes easier."

 

Again, Taiga would like to ask if Kochi is referring to his own experience, but he would most probably not get a proper answer anyway.

 

But as he walks to the front doors with him, Taiga notices a tall guy near the parking lot. The guy rises to stand up from the bench, waving in Kochi's direction. At that moment, Taiga realizes why Kochi has stayed silent, not sharing anything. His story has a happy ending. Simply. Maybe he experienced the disease, but it didn't end his life—at least not in the same way it's going to end for Taiga.

 

*****

 

Work had become his refuge. The demanding schedule of his musical roles left little room for introspection. Taiga threw himself into each performance with a fervor that bordered on obsessive. Within two years, he hadn't only left the small theater behind but he had also gotten that much fame under his name that he had also got a manager, a sharp-eyed woman named Yuki. She was very efficient and no-nonsense. She kept his calendar packed, ensuring he moved from one audition to another rehearsal with barely a moment to breathe.

 

To be honest, it was exactly what he needed.

 

Outside of work, Taiga's life had settled into a monotonous routine. He would return home late, exhausted, and collapse into bed. Mornings were a blur of hurried breakfasts and rushed commutes. The holidays, when he rarely had them, were spent catching up on sleep or doing mundane chores. Grocery shopping, laundry, cleaning the apartment – the ordinary tasks that filled the gaps in his days. If he still had any extra time, he spent it on watching anime.

 

He tried going out a couple of times, attempting to have at least something that people could call kind of a social life. Some old friends and new colleagues would invite him to dinners or parties, and he would force himself to attend. But the conversations felt superficial, and most of the time, he didn't enjoy that. He would smile and nod, pretending to be interested, but his mind was always elsewhere. More often than not, he would make excuses to leave early, retreating back to the solitude of his apartment.

 

There were moments, fleeting and rare, when he allowed himself to think about Hokuto. Late at night, when the city was quiet and the only sound was the ticking of the clock on his wall, some memories would creep in. He would lie in bed and let his mind wander back to the days they had spent together in that small theater.

 

He remembered the way Hokuto would laugh, a sound so genuine it could light up a room. He thought about the long conversations they used to have, where they would talk about everything and nothing. The comfortable silence they could share, just being in each other's presence. Taiga had never felt that comfort with anyone else and he wondered if it would ever be possible again.

 

One night, as the rain drummed against the windowpane, Taiga found himself sitting on the bed with his guitar. He played some chords randomly. Then, the melody that had been haunting him for days came out of the instrument. Without thinking, he reached for a notebook and pencil, writing down the notes.

 

He continued to scribble furiously, the rain providing a steady rhythm to his creative process. The song began to take shape, each chord and note falling into place. After a while, he paused, looking over what he had written. It felt right. Like the melody had finally found its home.

 

Taiga strummed the chords again, this time playing the song from start to finish. He muttered some random lyrics to it, words that didn't quite fit but gave the melody a voice. He repeated the process a few times, refining the notes and the rhythm.

 

He reasoned to himself that the song didn't tell about anyone in particular. It was just a melody, a collection of chords, notes, and random words. Nothing more.

 

*****

 

Taiga unscrews the cap, dropping two pills into his open palm. He tosses them into his mouth and swallows them with a sip of water. It's something he does every day now, he's gotten used to it in the past few weeks.

 

Most of the days, Taiga manages to control his cough at work. He tries to suppress it, tries to hold back the constant flow of petals, but it only makes it worse when they do come out.

 

Until the day comes when during a meeting, a sudden fit of coughing overwhelms him. He feels the petals spilling into his hands as he covers his mouth. Luckily, the petals go unnoticed by his colleagues, who laugh off the incident.

 

"That was intense, Kyomoto! We thought you were about to choke!" someone jokes.

 

Everyone is so focused on the fuss and laughing that it goes completely unnoticed how Taiga tucks the petals straight into his pocket, pretending he's only looking for a handkerchief.

 

*****

 

The musical was sung completely. There was absolutely no talking, but every line, every reaction, was in a singing format. As if that wouldn't have been challenging enough, the play itself wasn't even a Japanese play—it was a foreign movie. It originated in France and was widely known among everyone who loved such artistic films.

 

Taiga wasn't the type to turn down roles, but this one did concern him for various reasons.

 

"I don't know," he said carefully. 

 

Yuki adjusted her glasses. "The thing is... your name has finally started gaining some fame, the audience knows you. But there's a risk now that they've seen that one side of you, that your fame will be put off as quickly as you've gained it. You wouldn't be the first actor to drop into oblivion after enjoying some time in the spotlight. This is why we don't want you to be stuck with only one kind of role, do we, Kyomoto?"

 

"I guess not," Taiga responded, seriously pondering his manager's words while clicking his mouth. The wisdom in those was hard to deny. If he wanted to make it big one day, he needed to take risks and step out of his comfort zone to secure those future leading roles in theaters like the Imperial Theater in Tokyo. 

 

"So," Taiga inquired, "who were the other actors they were planning to cast, or was it still in the talks?"

 

"I have it here, I think it's mostly set already," Yuki replied, handing him the list. Taiga went through it absent-mindedly, spotting some familiar names from Takaki Yuya to Kamishiraishi Mone.

 

Until Taiga noticed one name among all the other names.

 

Matsumura Hokuto

 

Taiga couldn't help but stare at the name on the paper as if the answer he sought would magically appear if he looked at it long enough.

 

It felt like it had been ages since he had seen that name associated with anything related to him. The name occasionally popped up somewhere, but it was usually in predictable places. The rolling credits of morning dramas as Taiga brushed his teeth, on billboards he passed while sitting in a car through Harajuku, or when his co-stars casually mentioned the name in conversations.

 

It shouldn't have caused him to react like that. Two years had passed already. There was no reason to feel like a cold liquid metal ran through his stomach. It wasn't like he was seeing that name for the first time or that their history was worth mentioning. People came and went in this field, and sometimes the same people worked together again many times while some never did. In that industry, it wasn't uncommon for ex-spouses, ex-lovers, or former close friends to find themselves working together again. Hokuto was no ex-something to Taiga. He wasn't a former lover or a discarded friend. He was just someone with who Taiga lost contact with. That's it. 

 

"Matsumura? You knew him, right?" Yuki asked, seeking confirmation, observing Taiga's fixated gaze. "You two used to work in the same production before if I remember correctly? Were you close?"

 

"No, not really," Taiga muttered.

 

"Not really?"

 

Taiga shook his head, all the memories flooding back despite his efforts to suppress them.

 

"We used to go to the same university but never knew each other there. After that we acted together in one theater production, that's all. We didn't really interact much outside of work."

 

His manager nodded slowly. "Well, it looks like you'll be working together again," she remarked. "It'll be interesting to see how you both have grown since then."

 

Taiga forced a smile.

 

"Yeah, interesting," he repeated.

 

*****

 

Once alone in the dressing room, Taiga retrieves the petals from his pocket.

 

He looks at them, and something in his stomach drops as he sees a dark color staining them. It's his blood.

 

Taiga feels furious, like something burning inside him. All of a sudden, he wants to hit something, to scream at someone, maybe even himself. He's been trying really hard every day to control his feelings, to stay sane, not to overthink. He's been advised that meditation and mind control are the keywords for him to help forget, and by forgetting, he can help his symptoms. Ease them.

 

But it seems that no matter how much he's been trying, things just keep getting worse.

 

His body is failing him. He loathes the weakness of his own mind that only shows the weakness of his flesh. His whole being is just a feeble vessel that betrays him at every turn like that.

 

He doesn't want that. He doesn't want any of that.

 

He's so tired.

 

*****

 

Taiga had replayed the scene in his mind too many times. He had been mentally preparing himself for days, going over what he would say, how he would act.

 

He had pictured their first meeting after years of silence as awkward, full of unresolved tension and discomfort. He had imagined they would go out of their way to avoid each other, exchanging maybe forced pleasantries until they'd eventually reach a breaking point, and their pent-up emotions would boil over into a heated argument. He had imagined people around them being in shock when they'd just shout at each other.

 

But when the day came, it was nothing like he had imagined. When he saw Hokuto standing there, casually chatting with some of their co-stars, it wasn't dramatic at all.

 

Taiga actually had difficulty recognizing Hokuto at first, and he had to double-check that it was really him. The voice was familiar, but many other things were different. The most notable change was Hokuto's hair, now shorter and more basic-styled, and his clothes, which looked very... normal. There were no bizarre color combinations or odd materials in sight. He looked good and adult. Like a real professional actor.

 

That familiar smile played on Hokuto's lips as he politely listened to their co-star Mone explaining her recent works, but Taiga knew that smile was reserved for such professional situations. Hokuto's genuine smile had been something else.

 

When the group spotted him, they happily beckoned Taiga to join them. He felt his heart tighten as he walked to them.

 

"Kyomoto?" Hokuto said, turning his head to look at Taiga and bowing at him. His voice was soft and tentative. No hellos, no it's been a while, no how are yous. Just Kyomoto and a neutral, friendly look on his face. Taiga bowed stiffly back at him, a mix of different emotions swirling in his chest, but he was unable to do anything else.

 

When the scriptwriter called them to gather around the table for the first script-reading session, Hokuto walked beside Taiga to take a seat beside him.

 

"It's been a while," he said, his tone carefully neutral when they sat down.

 

"Yeah," Taiga replied curtly. "It has."

 

They started the session. 

 

The scriptwriter stood at the front of the room, a stack of scripts in hand. "Thank you all for being here. This play is a beautiful and bittersweet story set in a coastal town in France. It's about love, choices, and the passage of time. Kyomoto, as you know, you'll be playing the role of Guy, a young mechanic who falls deeply in love with a woman named Geneviève. Your character faces many hardships and has to make some difficult decisions as the war comes between them."

 

Taiga nodded, flipping through the script. The story was about the bittersweet nature of life, and in a funny way, it all felt too familiar.

 

"And Matsumura," the scriptwriter continued after introducing Mone and Sayuri's characters, "you'll be playing Roland Cassard, the kind and wealthy jeweler who eventually marries Geneviève. It's a side role, but a crucial one. Roland's character is gentle and supportive, offering Geneviève a different kind of love."

 

Suddenly, Taiga was unable to help wondering what had made Hokuto accept such a role. He was already well-established in the film industry, known for leading roles in movies, and his rising star status. Accepting a side character role in a musical play in a fairly small theater seemed out of place for him.

 

Throughout the session, Taiga stole glances at Hokuto when he thought no one was looking. The way Hokuto read the script aloud was all the same as it used to be; he always got into the role, changing his tone according to the feeling of each line, although it wasn't necessary at that point. They were supposed to only go through the story and the lines without even singing them but Hokuto wanted to bring the emotions from the very beginning. 

 

When the reading-session was over, everyone gathered their belongings, some of them chatting friendly with each other and discussing their first impressions of the story.

 

As Taiga walked next to Hokuto, he could no longer hold his tongue.

 

"You didn't cry during the reading," he commented, realizing that there was an unintended accusation in his tone. "It was a sad story. I was surprised that you didn't cry at any part because you used to cry so much. But you didn't cry even when the script writer described the ending scene."

 

Hokuto shrugged. He looked unbothered. "People change?" he offered nonchalantly.

 

That sounded so forced.

 

"Yeah, I guess they do," Taiga muttered, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He couldn't help but look at Hokuto's clothing, fitted black pants and a grey T-shirt.

 

"Anyway, it was nice to see you after a while, Kyomoto," Hokuto wished him. "Catch you later?"

 

"Alright. Bye."

 

Despite his efforts to maintain a neutral façade, Taiga couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach.

 

To be honest, Taiga had hoped that being around Hokuto again would bring some kind of clarity. He had been prepared that their meeting after such a long time would have been dramatic. It was weird, but somehow, Taiga would have been able to deal with everything better if it had been something like that.

 

Instead, Hokuto's indifference had felt like a slap in the face. Like he had stopped totally caring, didn't remember, or didn't want to remember Taiga or their past.

 

*****

 

The flowers that come out are whole flowers already. Taiga is afraid of sleeping at night.

 

He keeps staring at the ceiling, grasping the edge of his blanket between his fingers and letting his thoughts go through everything he managed to achieve in this life.

 

Maybe he has other things to achieve, in his next life. Whatever that life would be, in this body or somewhere else.

 

He regrets surprisingly many things. He regrets not calling his parents often enough and not visiting his grandparents as much as he'd like to. He wishes he had spent more time with his family, listening to their stories and learning from their wisdom, but his career has always seemed to get in the way. He regrets refraining from eating dessert before an important show. He's always claimed that eating dessert would make him feel bloated, which would affect his performance. But he loves eating dessert.

 

He regrets letting his plant collection wither and die due to his neglect.

 

He regrets not keeping up with his hobbies enough. He abandoned guitar playing a long time ago, something that he once cherished so much. He never found the time to pick up an instrument again. The thought of his guitar tucked away in its case, its strings gathering dust, suddenly makes him long for the music and creativity he used to find in playing.

 

Thinking back on all those things makes him sad, so he tries to distract his thoughts somewhere else. But then one name beats louder than anything else when he lets his mind slip to that even for a second, and he can't get it out any longer.

 

Hokuto.

 

Hokuto.

 

Hokuto.

 

The name reverberates through Taiga's heart like a drumbeat, each repetition pounding against his chest with a dull ache. It's a pain that he's familiar with, yet one that doesn't lose its sting.

 

It hurts. It hurts so much.

 

*****

 

From then on, their encounters at work were brief and casual, marked by polite exchanges. Despite the friendliness that remained in their interactions, Taiga felt weird whenever he was around Hokuto. Their conversations were laced with a formality that hadn't existed before, each word carefully chosen to maintain a safe distance.

 

During rehearsals, they worked together efficiently, their professionalism unblemished. However, every interaction outside work felt also rehearsed, as if they were playing roles in a play that continued in real life. When Hokuto spoke to him, he always had that guarded look in his eyes. Taiga swore he could sometimes see glimpses of something else in his eyes, something familiar from the past, but it never stayed there. And Taiga didn't even know what that something had ever been.

 

Inside, Taiga kept harboring a storm. At times, he wanted to scream, to demand answers from Hokuto. Why had he never messaged him after he had left? Why hadn't he even tried to contact him? The hurt that Taiga had felt had been so deep.

 

He could still remember so clearly the day when he had realized Hokuto's contact had completely disappeared from his LINE contact list when he had changed his phone to a new one. That moment had hit him hard, the contact list missing Hokuto's name being a confirmation that Hokuto had changed his number and had never dared to inform Taiga about it. It had felt like a true betrayal, proving that Hokuto had chosen to sever their connection without a word or he had simply forgotten Taiga completely.

 

But the show had to go on, and for now, that meant keeping their complicated history buried beneath a veneer of professionalism. They couldn't risk their work for something, some very twisted relationship, that Taiga found too hard to explain even to himself. 

 

*****

 

Taiga sits on the edge of his bed, the crumpled prescription bags hidden under his pillow. He glances at his phone on the nightstand, its screen dark and silent. The urge to reach out to someone keeps nagging him. It's like a whisper in the back of his mind, reminding him of his doctor and Kochi's words that it'd be good if he managed to tell and talk about it with someone.

 

He picks up his phone and opens his mother's contact, his fingers hovering over the call button. The thought of her voice, always so warm and loving, tugs at his heart.

 

She would know what to say, how to make him feel less lonely. She always does. But then he imagines her reaction—the worry, the fear, the sadness in her eyes. He can't bear to put her through that.

 

With a heavy sigh, Taiga locks his phone and sets it down.

 

*****

 

The atmosphere in the izakaya was happy. There was chatter in every corner of their long table as they were celebrating the end of their first successful rehearsal week. Taiga tried his best to concentrate on the discussion around him but after all, he found himself distracted by the presence of certain someone. Hokuto. It was a surprise to even have him there, considering he had declined all previous invitations to socialize after rehearsals. Yet, there he was, sitting among all of them, talking with other people cheerfully and sipping on his small beer.

 

Seeing Hokuto so effortlessly fit in and enjoy himself was a big contrast to the awkward distance between them. Memories of their unresolved tension filled Taiga's mind. All that joy and happy laughter around him only made his loneliness more intense, making him realize how he didn't have anyone in the industry that he could call a real friend.

 

Suddenly, Taiga felt suffocated.

 

He stood up and slipped out of the table, muttering to others at the table some vague excuse that he needed some air. He left the bar and settled on the staircase corridor, away from the noisy crowd. From there, he could hear distant laughter and chatter from different floors as background noise.

 

Sitting down on the step and leaning against the wall, Taiga closed his eyes for a moment. He really couldn't put his finger on how he felt.

 

He wanted to say so many things to Hokuto, yet he couldn't find the words. They were like strangers now, but he quickly realized bitterly who he was trying to lie to. They were strangers, they had always been strangers. It hurt to admit it, but it was true.

 

He wished they had some sort of closure back then, some clarity to ease the gnawing uncertainty that now plagued him. Because the absence of resolution felt like a gaping wound, festering with regret and what-ifs. Now, it was too late in any case. They had nothing left to talk about anymore.

 

Then he heard the door opening, the noise from the bar suddenly coming clearer again.

 

"Kyomoto?"

 

Taiga raised his head. He had recognized the voice immediately, but seeing Hokuto standing by the doorframe still surprised him a little bit. Hokuto closed the door behind him and came to stand next to Taiga.

 

"Umm, I thought you left, but apparently not?"

 

Taiga shrugged. "Yeah, just needed some fresh air."

 

"The air isn't very fresh here," Hokuto remarked and offered a short laugh. Taiga didn't join in the laughter. He could only sit there, watching Hokuto and wondering what that was and how he should react to anything he said.

 

"So, are you okay?" Hokuto asked.

 

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"

 

"Pardon me?"

 

"I've noticed you don't seem to stay too long after the rehearsal or taking part in activities. Only yesterday, you kept talking about not feeling too well."

 

Hokuto scratched his head, looking a bit weird. "Yeah, I'm fine. I wasn't even properly sick. It was just that I had a bad day because of my anemia. And then I've been busy, you know."

 

Actually, Taiga didn't know. Hokuto being too busy was an entirely new concept. Also, Taiga had never heard about Hokuto's anemia but that still wasn't as weird as Hokuto saying that he had been busy. Hokuto, who had many times claimed that his life was nothing but busy.

 

"Busy with what? Do you have some other project going on?"

 

"Hm. Maybe."

 

This. This exact pattern was something all too familiar. Hokuto had always done this, dropping some hints about his life and then swiftly shutting the door on any further discussion. It was like teasing an itch without ever scratching it. Taiga couldn’t believe that now, it was still the same old dance. While Hokuto had changed so much, the most frustrating things hadn't changed in him at all. 

 

"Kyomoto," Hokuto started hesitantly. "I just wanted to say that I'm glad we're working together again. I know things have been, you know, a bit awkward between us, but I hope we can find a way to make it work."

 

Taiga felt a lump tightening his throat. He couldn't say a word. He could not trust himself to speak without his annoyance boiling over.

 

Hokuto took a step closer and came to sit down next to him on the stair-step. His eyes didn't even try to find Taiga's but he kept his gaze to his hands.

 

"I know it's been a while since we were in touch. Anyway, now that we're working on the same project again, I was hoping we could still try to become friends again. Somehow."

 

"I don't know," Taiga answered slowly. "I mean, we were never really friends, to begin with. We were colleagues who got along well, but I don't think we ever truly knew each other."

 

Hokuto was clearly about to say something about that, but he closed his mouth just before that. Maybe he allowed himself to see the truth behind Taiga's words.

 

"I'm not even sure if I should apologize," Hokuto finally began, his every word sounding hesitant. "But just in case, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for acting weird and awkward around you. If it's fine with you, we could just start over. You know, getting to know each other from the start? We don't have to be friends if you don't want to but getting along and talking normally would already be really nice."

 

It became silent. For a moment, they simply sat there, not speaking a word to each other. Taiga bit his lip. In the end, he nodded stiffly.

 

"Yes?" Hokuto asked hopefully, turning to look at him.

 

"Sure. We can try," Taiga said.

 

"That's enough for me if it's enough for you. For now."

 

Taiga hummed in agreement. 

 

"Anyway, I will go back now," Hokuto said. "I'm sorry for intruding on you like this. But I'm glad everything's settled between us now. Maybe you should also come back, at least to say goodbyes to others before going home?"

 

Taiga watched as Hokuto stood up. Was that all? Hokuto didn't want to say anything else, not to bring up old things back in any way, talk them through, nothing?

 

Without saying anything, Taiga followed him and rose up to his feet slowly. 

 

Hokuto opened the door and held it for Taiga, who took it to let Hokuto pass first. As Hokuto turned his head over his shoulder, Taiga met his eyes on the step below him. For a brief, intense moment, it felt like he could see that something in Hokuto's eyes again. It was a fleeting glimpse, a mere flicker of something elusive from the past. But the moment was over as quickly as it appeared. 

 

When he trailed behind Hokuto back to their table, Taiga berated himself for harboring such bitterness. It was clear that he hadn't moved on from whatever had once happened between them. But he was willing to try, he needed to try. For both of their sakes. 

 

*****

 

Taiga picks up his phone again and opens the messaging app, his fingers hesitating over Hokuto's name before selecting it from the list. He starts typing, then stops. What could he say? "Hey, I have this awful disease that might kill me or make me forget everything and everyone"?

 

That sounds too melodramatic even to Taiga's own ears.

 

Instead, he types something simpler.

 

Hey, can we talk?

 

He stares at the unsent message for a moment, imagining Hokuto's reaction. Would he be surprised to see such a message from Taiga? Would he be willing to talk? Would he even answer?

 

No. He can't do it. It wouldn't make any sense. They are as done as two people could be, and they will never see each other again.

 

He hastily deletes the message, erasing the words as if they were never there. Then he puts his phone back on the nightstand, and its screen goes dark.

 

Taiga brings his head to rest against the mattress. The room feels too small as he takes a breath.

 

*****

 

Despite their conversation in the corridor on that particular night at the izakaya and despite promising each other they were trying to get along as colleagues, Taiga felt like he was still walking on thin ice when it came to interactions with Hokuto. It was easy to keep the professional atmosphere with him because Hokuto had always been good at small-talk interactions at work, although his real himself wasn't like that at all. But there was still something going on beneath the surface. Taiga couldn't be sure at all if Hokuto felt it too. Every word exchanged between them seemed to be carefully weighed, each gesture meticulously measured to avoid cracking the normalcy they had established.

 

Their characters didn’t share scenes but sometimes the backstage interactions were rife with awkward moments. One such incident occurred when they both reached for a yellow umbrella prop at the same time.

 

Taiga and Hokuto’s hands brushed against each other, and they both froze. Taiga quickly pulled back, muttering an apology. Hokuto nodded, his expression neutral, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes that Taiga couldn’t quite decipher.

 

“Sorry, I’ll get out of your way,” Taiga said, trying to sound normal as he stepped aside.

 

“No, it’s fine. I can wait,” Hokuto replied.

 

For a moment, Taiga considered addressing the awkwardness around them, maybe making a joke out of it because it was both horrible and funny in all that weird sense. But he could only play with the thought before the stage manager called them for places.

 

They kept attending a few afterparties with the rest of the crew, and it was always nice. Most of the time, Hokuto joined, and so did Taiga, though neither of them stayed too late. During these gatherings, Taiga learned new things about Hokuto—how his career had been going and the various projects he had been involved in. It felt like he was slowly getting a better grasp of Hokuto's life. Although Hokuto never particularly talked to Taiga and basically all the conversation was done in small groups. 

 

One evening, the topic of their history finally surfaced awkwardly. Taiga was in the middle of a conversation with Furukawa Yuta and Asazuki Kiwa when someone from the crew picked up on Taiga's mention of his and Hokuto's common acquaintance.

 

"Wait, you two know each other from before?" the crew member blurted out.

 

Taiga froze, glancing over at Hokuto.

 

"Um, yeah. We've- crossed paths a few times," Taiga replied, trying to play it off casually. 

 

"I didn't know that," the crew member said, clearly surprised. "Small world, huh?"

 

"Yeah," Taiga muttered, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck. He wasn't sure how much he wanted to reveal about their history, especially with Hokuto right there.

 

Hokuto leaned in slightly. "Right, it's one of those weird coincidences," he added, his voice holding a weight of something Taiga couldn't quite place.

 

The conversation drifted to other topics, but the whole situation left Taiga feeling a bit awkward. He couldn't help but wonder what Hokuto was thinking. How did he remember, how did he think about those moments? Did he regret them, or did he cherish them in some strange way?

 

*****

 

Going to the hospital is always hard. It hasn't become any easier although it's become the place he visits most often after the theater.

 

*****

 

One evening, after a particularly long evening, Yuma once again invited everyone out for drinks. Taiga immediately agreed happily, saying that it sounded fun. However, Hokuto declined the invitation with a polite apology.

 

"I can't, I'm meeting someone," he explained.

 

"Oh, your friend from Shizuoka?" Taiga asked. He recalled that Hokuto used to have one best friend from his hometown and he basically didn't hang around with anyone else. 

 

Hokuto paused, then shook his head. "No, not that friend."

 

"Who then?"


"Just someone."

 

A wave of conflicting emotions swept through Taiga immediately as he heard Hokuto's elusive answer. It wasn't anger that simmered within him; it was more like frustration and a hint of hurt. Taiga had thought that their recent interactions had brought them closer, maybe towards something that they once used to be, but it looked like Hokuto still loved continuing to keep things to himself. Taiga questioned the purpose of their attempts to connect. If the result was something like this, what was the point of even trying?


"Fine, keep your secret then. I don't understand this point of being so mysterious all the time," Taiga said tightly.

 

"What's with you needing to know everything about everyone?"

 

"What's with you needing to keep people at arm's length all the time?"

 

A few of their colleagues exchanged nervous glances, sensing the growing tension. Yuma stepped closer, looking between them with concern. "Hey, everything okay here?"

 

"Yes, just perfect," Taiga said sarcastically. Unable to contain his irritation, he muttered an excuse and stormed off to the toilet, telling others to go before him. He locked himself in a stall, taking deep breaths to calm down.

 

Taiga waited there a long time, all the time until he was sure everyone had left, and the room became silent.

 

When Taiga finally came out, he was surprised to see Hokuto still there. He was sitting on the chair with his arms crossed. Taiga couldn't read his face, it was as if Hokuto looked a bit annoyed.

 

"Didn't you go to meet your friend?" Taiga asked, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice.

 

Hokuto sighed. "No, I didn't go to meet my friend," he answered very slowly, imitating Taiga's way of speaking. Taiga frowned at that. 

 

"What is it?" Taiga asked.


"I believe I should ask you, Kyomoto, what this is. What was that?"

 

Taiga had to stop to ask himself the same question. What was that? It would have sounded stupid if he now started his whining that Hokuto never told him anything and didn't make any effort to make their relationship better and that Taiga felt like he was the only one trying there. This time, though, he knew better. That would have ended up with exactly the same fight they had had years ago. The fight they never even managed to properly make up. He should have learned not to let it rattle his emotions like that.

 

He couldn't believe he found himself in this situation once again. He couldn't believe Hokuto could have such an effect on him.

 

"I don't know," Taiga answered honestly.


"Me neither."

 

There was a weariness in Hokuto's voice, a weariness that Taiga hadn't heard before.

 

"I've been trying, Kyomoto," Hokuto continued. "I've really been trying."

 

Taiga blinked. He tried to grasp what Hokuto meant by "trying." Was it about their relationship, their communication—or something else entirely? He couldn't understand what Hokuto was alluding to.

 

"I don't understand," Taiga admitted.

 

The invisible weight settled between them, and they fell into silence. Taiga wanted to say something more, to break that suffocating silence that was around them, but the words caught in his throat like a stubborn knot.

 

And then, without warning, Hokuto broke it with a frustrated puff.

 

"Fuck," he muttered, more like to himself rather than to Taiga, running his hands through his hair. 

 

He stood up and walked towards Taiga.

 

The air between them felt charged as they now kept standing there, staring at each other. Taiga could feel the intensity of Hokuto's gaze on him. He swallowed hard with a shaky gulp, the sound almost audible in the stillness of the room. 

 

Taiga also felt the heat rise to his cheeks. His skin tingled with anticipation as he could feel the warmth radiating from Hokuto's physical presence. The urge to reach out, to touch Hokuto, was suddenly almost unbearable.

 

Hokuto's gaze softened, and for a moment, the hardness in his expression melted away. He reached up, his hand trembling slightly. He cupped Taiga's cheek, only to bring his mouth to Taiga's neck.

 

As Hokuto's lips touched his neck, Taiga's whole body froze with nervousness.

 

He couldn't move, couldn't even hear anything except his own pounding heartbeat as he stood there paralyzed.

 

Hokuto's lips moved slowly against Taiga's neck, trailing wet kisses along his skin. It was so electric, making Taiga's breath hitch in his throat. Then the shaking started. He closed his eyes, trying to steady himself, but the intensity of the moment was too much. His hands twitched at his sides as he kept shaking. His fingers curled into fists as he fought the urge to reach out and pull Hokuto closer. 

 

Hokuto's other hand came up to rest on Taiga's hip as the kisses on his neck grew more insistent, and Taiga felt a rush of heat flooding down between his legs. He tilted his head slightly, giving Hokuto better access, and let out a soft, involuntary moan. The sound seemed to break through the last of his hesitation, and he finally lifted his hands, placing them on Hokuto's hips. Hokuto brought his hands on top of Taiga's, squeezing them and then slowly bringing them to Taiga's belt. 

 

Hokuto opened the belt and unzipped his pants. He reached into Taiga's underwear and pulled out his cock.

 

"Hokuto," Taiga squeaked, one hand on Hokuto's shoulder and the other now gripping the edge of the table.

 

"What do you want?" Hokuto demanded. He dragged his thumb from the base of Taiga's cock to its tip.

 

"Ah," Taiga gasped. He could feel himself growing harder and harder in Hokuto's grasp. "I want this. I want you."

 

"I want this too," Hokuto murmured. His words were slightly slurred, but he sounded sure and confident. His breath came to tickle Taiga's ear and he licked his earlobe. Taiga shivered.

 

"Let me-," Taiga whispered, moving himself a little bit further from Hokuto just to drop to his knees. His face was now hovering over Hokuto's crotch, the heat and want radiating from him.

 

"Hokuto-" Taiga murmured as if he was asking for permission. Hokuto nodded and Taiga reached out with a hand and groped around the button of his pants before tugging at his zipper and pulling his own cock out. "Can I?" 

 

Hokuto didn't respond verbally anymore. Instead, he gasped loudly and tangled his fingers in Taiga's hair, then carefully urged his head closer to his cock. Taiga obliged, wrapping his mouth around the head.

 

Hokuto emitted a throaty sound, but Taiga kept sucking him slowly and deeply, tracing his tongue over the raised veins of his cock. Hokuto's hand alternated between gentle strokes through Taiga's hair and firmer grips.

 

"Oops, sorry, my bad," Hokuto whispered as he bucked his hips, but Taiga reassured him with a muffled sound, humming when Hokuto's legs trembled with pleasure. He placed his hand behind Hokuto's left thigh and urged him to move.

 

Hokuto fucked Taiga's mouth, his breathing becoming loud and labored, and Taiga gripped the back of his thigh harder.

 

"Kyomoto," Hokuto gasped, and Taiga's other hand gripped the base of his cock as he sucked Hokuto's head. Hokuto's legs quivered again, and he came into Taiga's mouth like he was never going to stop, hips and breath jerking erratically. Taiga kept his breath steady through his nose, in and out, as he swallowed Hokuto's come slowly. The taste, the heat, it burned his mouth.

 

Hokuto gestured for him to stand up, and Taiga wouldn't waste any time as he was already standing in front of Hokuto.

 

Taiga was so hard that he thought he might explode then and there, he was sure of it.

 

"I'll do it," Hokuto groaned. He brought his hand between Taiga's legs.

 

Hokuto stroked his balls quickly before curling his hand around Taiga's erection and started jerking him off, quick and furious, hand warm and slick from pre-cum. Taiga wrapped his own hand around him, guiding Hokuto through it until he hit orgasm and spilled into their hands.

 

In that fleeting moment, as they stood there leaning against each other, Hokuto looked at him. There was something undefinable in Hokuto's expression, maybe something that could be considered vulnerability. Taiga couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, but it stirred, causing his chest to tighten painfully.

 

The moment passed in the blink of an eye, Hokuto already turning away and escaping to the toilet, leaving Taiga alone with his racing pulse in his throat.

Chapter 2

"It looks like the disease has progressed faster than usual," the doctor explains as Taiga silently puts his shirt back on after he's been examined.

 

"Is there anything we can do?" Taiga asks, his voice coming out surprisingly steady despite the sudden dread churning in his veins. The doctor types something on their computer.

 

"Have you considered that surgery?"

 

Yes, he has. But the idea of it terrifies him too much, despite knowing it might be his only chance to stay alive.

 

"I'm still thinking about it," he admits. "I'm just afraid of what might happen. It sounds basically the same as in being dead."

 

"I understand. It's completely normal to feel afraid, especially when faced with something as daunting as hanahaki surgery. But consider this: with the surgery, you'd have a chance. A chance to build a new kind of life. And at least, you'd be alive."

 

"Can I still think and we could treat the disease like we've been doing?"

 

"Of course. I'll prescribe a higher dose of painkillers for you, and we can consider increasing the frequency of your chemotherapy sessions. Let's also try out a different medication for them," the doctor suggests. "However, these new chemotreatments can be quite taxing on your body. You'll either need to stay overnight here in the hospital for observation or have someone at home to monitor you. Do you have anyone who could assist and take care of you, Kyomoto?"

 

An image of Hokuto flashes in his mind immediately, but Taiga shakes it off as fast as it comes. It's so pathetic and ridiculous that his weak mind goes to such places where it shouldn't.

 

"I... think I can ask someone."

 

*****

 

When Hokuto returned from the toilet, Taiga was waiting for him. Both of them had pulled their pants back up and tidied up their hair a little bit. But Taiga noticed Hokuto's cheeks were still a bit flushed and his eyes gleaming.

 

"So, what time did the stage director say that we should be here tomorrow for the final check-up?" Hokuto started.

 

Taiga could hardly believe his ears. Weren't they going to talk about what had just happened? Wasn't Hokuto angry? Wasn't it going to be so awkward between them? Had Taiga imagined everything that had happened moments ago? 

 

Taiga was so taken aback that he responded automatically, "I think she mentioned we should be here by three o'clock."

 

"Right, okay." 

 

They proceeded to have a completely ordinary conversation about the schedule and preparations for the final check-up, discussing logistics and minor details as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred between them. Taiga found himself nodding and responding to Hokuto's questions, all while trying to process what was going on.

 

He continued having disbelief in the back of his mind as they kept talking. The ease with which they discussed their schedules felt strange in juxtaposition to that raw moment they had just shared, like animals in heat.

 

Taiga wondered if he should somehow address the elephant in the room, but in the end, he didn't. If Hokuto wasn't going to mention anything, Taiga shouldn't be the one to bring it up either.

 

Because Taiga knew that beneath the surface of their mundane conversation, something had undeniably shifted. They had crossed a line they couldn't step back from any longer. He could sense a new kind of tension between them. But that new tension now held a different kind of charge, like a silent promise that whatever had happened just a moment ago, it would definitely happen again.

 

"Well," Hokuto finally said, clearing his throat. "I should get going. Got some things to take care of."

 

Taiga nodded. "Right, me too. Lots to prepare for tomorrow."

 

Hokuto picked up his bag from the chair. He took a few steps towards the door, then paused, glancing back at Taiga. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something, but instead, he just offered a small, tight-lipped smile.

 

"See you tomorrow," Hokuto said over his shoulder from the doorway, not quite meeting Taiga's eyes.

 

"Yeah, see you," Taiga replied.

 

He could still smell Hokuto's scent lingering on his clothes and skin.

 

*****

 

"Thank you really for joining me," Taiga says to Shintaro as they step through the sliding doors into the hospital lobby. "I don't want to worry my roommate."

 

"No problem," Shintaro says, sounding almost cheerful. He's never been one to dwell in gloominess; even on his bad days, he shows his current feelings very freely. The way he does it is always so pure. Taiga has always admired that aspect of his long-time friend because he is very different from Shintaro, and he knows his habit of swinging more into overthinking and boiling up complicated emotions inside him.

 

Shintaro also doesn't pry. In that sense, he's very similar to Juri. He waits patiently to see if the other side is willing to talk to them. He's a good listener, but he's never pushing it. Taiga has always hoped he could be a little bit more like Shintaro.

 

To be honest, Taiga feels terrible for keeping the whole thing a secret from Juri. It's not like Juri wouldn't understand or that he'd start blaming Taiga for getting sick. But the thing is, Juri would start worrying, and Taiga simply doesn't want to burden him.

 

"I'll find something to do. Don't worry about me."

 

"Great. They said it'd be good if you could ensure I get safely home and stay there a couple of hours with me, but you're free to go after that."

 

Shintaro waves his hand. "Like I said, no worries. But hey, are you sure you're okay going there alone? I could come with you and keep you company. You know my jokes are the best and could entertain anyone for hours."

 

Taiga nods appreciatively at that. "I'll manage alone. Thanks anyway."

 

When he goes inside the room, he takes a seat on one of the beds and watches as a female nurse enters. After greeting him, she starts arranging some supplies and discussing the weather. Taiga doesn't answer her because he's unsure what to say. She's not asking questions, so it's probably right to stay silent.

 

"Did you lose weight, Kyomoto?" the nurse asks as she administers an injection into Taiga's hand. It stings a little bit. Then she gestures for him to squeeze his fist first and then inserts a cannula through the needle into his hand.

 

"No. I don't know," Taiga answers, looking at his pale arm. "Maybe?"

 

She presses the button, and the machine next to him hums to life, slowly starting to infuse the cytostatic drug into his system. It's not Taiga's first time, but somehow, it still manages to feel foreign, as he can hardly believe that he's there in the situation where he's the patient getting chemotherapy.

 

"Do you need anything to read while you wait?" the nurse asks him with a bored tone.

 

Taiga waves a hand dismissively, indicating he's fine, and the nurse nods before leaving him alone. Taiga retrieves his earphones from his pocket with one hand and plugs them into his ears to drown out the machine's beeping sounds in the otherwise sterile silence of the room.

 

He loses himself in his favorite music, and he kind of loses the sense of time passing. It's a comfortable feeling, not to feel anything. However, when his playlist shuffles to the song Eien by Mr. Children, something tugs at his heartstrings immediately. He hastily skips the song.  

 

He shakes his head to himself. Why does even music have to hurt him like that? It's so unfair.

 

*****

 

The day at the theater was busy. Taiga arrived early, the final preparations for opening night were underway, and everyone was busy. Cast and crew buzzed around, adjusting props and fine-tuning every last detail. Taiga and Hokuto acted normally, interacting as if nothing had changed between them. 

 

During the final dress rehearsal, Taiga threw himself into his role, his mind focused on perfecting his performance. He knew the importance of this rehearsal; it was their last chance to iron out any kinks before the audience filled the seats. He caught glimpses of Hokuto now and then backstage between the scenes, but they exchanged nothing more than professional nods and brief remarks about their respective scenes. There was an unspoken agreement to maintain the façade of normalcy, at least for now. 

 

In the end, everything went all smoothly. The cast was in sync, the set changes worked, and the lighting and sound cues were perfectly timed. Taiga was proud of everyone; they had done a good job, all of them together. When they were wrapping up the evening, their director gathered everyone together and praised their hard work, offering a few last-minute notes and encouragement.

 

Taiga gathered his things quickly, ready to head home. As he walked out the back entrance and passed the smoking area in the small park adjacent to the theater, he noticed Hokuto's figure silhouetted against the street light. He was sitting on a rock pillar. 

 

Taiga hesitated for a moment, then walked over.

 

"Hey," he said, his voice quiet.

 

"Hey."

 

The awkward silence lingered between them. Taiga wanted to ask, he wanted answers, but he was pretty sure he already knew deep inside why Hokuto was there. Then he encouraged himself to ask one thing.

 

"Are we going to talk?" 

 

"Do you want to talk?"

 

Maybe. Yes. I don't know.

 

"No," Taiga said. 

 

"Alright then."

 

Once Hokuto stood up, Taiga leaned in towards him.  

 

"Just, let's get out of here. Take me with you. Anywhere," Taiga whispered wantonly against his ear. 

 

The thing was that Hokuto didn't look even slightly surprised. He simply nodded. 

 

"Okay," Hokuto said hoarsely. "Okay." 

 

Inside the cab, Taiga extended his hand to Hokuto's open palm to trace his skin with his fingertips. Hokuto's skin felt hot, and Taiga could feel the anticipation, pure want, radiating from both of them.

 

Hokuto didn't even bother turning the lights on as they arrived at his place, but he grabbed Taiga by his hand and led them straight to his bedroom. Taiga pushed him into the bed and followed him, lying on top of him.

 

Taiga gripped the hem of Hokuto's shirt, and Hokuto helped him with the task by raising his arms so that Taiga could pull it over him. Taiga touched his bare skin. His touch glided over Hokuto's arms, chest, and stomach, his fingers caressing Hokuto's nipples before descending further, tracing a path to his navel.

 

Hokuto's teeth grazed over Taiga's neck, his fingers searching for Taiga's pulse as if trying to map the rhythm of his movements. He took a firm grip on Taiga's hair, guiding Taiga's head and exposing his neck to place wet kisses on it.

 

Taiga snaked his other hand between them and opened the button of Hokuto's jeans. Hokuto watched him, going all tense the moment Taiga slipped his hand in, running his fingers over the base of Hokuto's cock.

 

Hokuto's hips surged forward, a low groan escaping his lips.

 

It fired Taiga on and urged him into going further, pulling Hokuto's jeans down off with his underwear with both hands. Hokuto's hand came to grope Taiga's butt, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his pants and underwear to caress the naked skin there. Taiga wriggled slightly, impatiently, and Hokuto got the hint, shoving his pants and underwear down until they were on Taiga's knees. Taiga kicked them completely off with his feet and did the same to his socks.  

 

Taiga was still wearing his shirt but couldn't find time to remove it. He closed his eyes when their cocks rubbed together between them, precome leaking from his own. Hokuto kept rocking slightly against him, keeping the friction up, and Taiga huffed out several breaths when Hokuto's nails kept digging deep into the underside of his thighs.

 

Hokuto's touch ventured higher, his fingertips tracing the curve where Taiga's buttocks met, lingering tantalizingly close to the thin delicate skin around his hole. Taiga jolted in arousal and couldn't help uttering a low groan. 

 

Pulling back slightly, Taiga raised himself up, sitting on Hokuto's crotch. With a determined motion, he crossed his arms and peeled off his shirt, laying himself bare before Hokuto's hungry gaze.

 

Hokuto shifted slightly to reach for a tube of lube resting on the nightstand, his eyes never leaving Taiga's form.

 

Hokuto's hands were shaking slightly as he uncapped the lube. Taiga watched him and felt like his head was spinning. He moved to lie on his side, back turned to Hokuto. Then Hokuto brought his fingers to Taiga's entrance, pushing two fingers in at the same time. He scissored them, stretching and preparing him quickly. 

 

Finally, Taiga grabbed the lube package that was lying on the mattress. He motioned Hokuto to take his fingers out and then came to straddle Hokuto again. He squeezed some of the cold gel onto his fingers. Then he spread the lube over Hokuto's hard cock, slicking it up with deliberate, slow strokes that made Hokuto's breath hitch. Hokuto's hands came to Taiga's thighs, gripping them.

 

Taiga positioned himself over Hokuto, guiding the tip of his cock to his entrance. He took a deep breath and slowly lowered himself, feeling the stretch, the burn, and the incredible fullness as Hokuto entered him. Hokuto's grip on his hips tightened, his fingers digging into Taiga's skin as he fought to stay still.

 

Taiga gasped, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts as he had finally seated himself fully on Hokuto's cock.

 

Taiga began to move, rocking his hips slowly at first, then picking up the pace. Hokuto's hands came to roam over his body, caressing his thighs, his waist, his chest.

 

Their movements grew more frantic, more desperate. Taiga's hands were braced on Hokuto's chest, his fingers curling into the skin as he rode Hokuto harder and faster. Hokuto's hips surged up to meet him, each thrust pushing Taiga closer to the brink.

 

The only sounds were the slap of skin against skin, their breathless moans and gasps, and the creak of the bed beneath them. It was raw, intense, and all-consuming.

 

Taiga's hand moved to his own cock, stroking himself in time with Hokuto's thrusts. The building pleasure was overwhelming, a tight coil of heat in his belly was ready to snap in any minute.

 

"Fuck fuck fuck I'm coming," Taiga panted, his voice trembling with the intensity of his impending orgasm.

 

Hokuto's grip on his hips tightened, his thrusts becoming erratic, desperate. "Ah, Kyomoto," he urged, his voice all rough and needy.

 

That was all it took. Taiga's body tensed, his orgasm crashing over him in a wave of blinding pleasure. He cried out, his fingernails digging into Hokuto's chest as he came, his hot release spilling over his hand and onto Hokuto's stomach.

 

That pushed Hokuto over the edge. With a strangled moan, he thrust up a couple of more times, his cock pulsing inside Taiga as he came, filling him.

 

Then Taiga slowly lifted himself off Hokuto, both of them hissing as Hokuto's cock slipped out of him. He collapsed beside Hokuto, his body still trembling a little bit with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

 

They lay there for a while longer, their breathing slowly returning to normal. 

 

Eventually, they both roused themselves from their haze, the reality of the situation settling in around them. Taiga glanced around the dim room, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about where he was and what he had just done.

 

"I should probably go," he said quietly.

 

Hokuto hummed. "Yeah, probably," he agreed, though for a while he made no move to get up from the bed.

 

Eventually, they started putting clothes back in silence. Taiga couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of his stomach, a nagging feeling. At the same time, he felt weirdly more content around Hokuto than he had in a long while. It felt like something unresolved had finally been solved between them. 

 

In any case, things had irrevocably changed between them. Again.

 

Hokuto cleared his throat after he had pulled his shirt over his head. "So, did you hear what the stage manager said about those props in the final scene?" he started, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "Apparently, the director wants them all repainted for tomorrow's show."

 

Taiga nodded, his fingers working to tie the strings of his pants into a bow. "Yeah, I heard. It’s going to be a pain to get that done in time. But hopefully, they'll manage to do that."

 

"Fingers crossed."

 

Things had indeed irrevocably changed between them.

 

*****

 

Taiga walks back to the lobby. Shintaro is there, reading a boat magazine. His tanned skin against his white T-shirt makes him look so healthy that he seems jarringly out of place in such an environment.

 

Shintaro raises his head and looks at him gently as Taiga walks to him.

 

"Oh, done? Ready to go?"

 

Taiga nods at him.

 

As they exit through the front door and make their way to the train station, Shintaro launches into a description of the boat his friend bought last week. His easy chatter provides the kind of comfort that Taiga's been missing in his life recently. Taiga finds such a casual atmosphere soothing. It almost feels like just a normal day for them to hang out. It's like the visit to the hospital never even happened when neither of them brings it up in any way.

 

However, on the train, Taiga is struck by sudden nausea. As the train sways, he feels a twisting, churning sensation gripping his stomach, accompanied by a rush of dizziness. He feels cold sweat on his forehead.

 

"I'm not feeling too great," Taiga confesses aloud when they're still five stations away from his home stop. Without saying a word, Shintaro leads them off the train at the next station.

 

At the platform, Taiga crouches, hanging his head low against his knees, and realizes he's never felt that embarrassed in his life. Yet Shintaro waits patiently for him and stands next to him.

 

More trains come and go, and people keep curiously glanceing in their direction when they walk past them. Taiga can almost feel their judgmental stares. Perhaps everyone is assuming he's just another drunk guy causing a scene in broad daylight. It's so embarrassing he'd like the platform just to swallow him.

 

"It's okay," Shintaro reassures him quietly and pats Taiga's shoulder.

 

When Taiga finally feels better, he motions at Shintaro and says that he's okay and that they can keep going. Shintaro helps him to his feet, supporting him by holding his arm firmly. They step onto the next arriving train, and Shintaro doesn't let go of Taiga's arm the whole way.

 

Once they arrive at Taiga's apartment, Shintaro still hasn't let go of his arm. He helps him inside to take off their shoes, then gently guides him to his bedroom.

 

Taiga can't remember the last time someone tucked him into the bed like that, especially when Shintaro pulls the duvet over him. It's something that his mother used to do to him as a child.

 

"I'll run to the convenience store and grab you some snacks, okay? Anything particular? Tomatoes, right? Some juice? Oh, and hey, Pocari Sweat always works!"

 

Taiga manages a weak nod. "Thanks, Shintaro. I appreciate it."

 

He already drifts off to sleep, but he still hears Shintaro's whispered words across the room, "Yeah, no worries, Kyomo. You just sleep," and for a brief moment, everything feels okay.

 

*****

 

When Taiga stepped inside, he could hear the faint sound of video game music drifting from the living room. He walked towards the sound.

 

Not surprisingly, Juri was hunched over the console. Of course, the guy wouldn't be asleep at this late hour like any normal decent citizen would.

Taiga quietly made his way to the couch, sinking into the spot next to Juri as if he were just settling in to watch him play. They sat in silence for a while, the only sound filling the room the soft clicking of buttons as Juri maneuvered through his game. Taiga kept his gaze fixed on the screen.

 

Finally, Juri paused the game and turned to Taiga.

 

"Okay, spill it. What's wrong?"

 

"I had sex with Hokuto."

 

Juri's eyes widened, and he turned to face Taiga fully, setting aside the controller. He probably hadn't expected that. 

 

"You what?"

 

Taiga didn't answer. He was sure Juri had heard him properly. He couldn't bring himself to repeat what he had just said. 

 

"How did that happen? I thought you were supposed to go out celebrating with your musical group? And with- him? Of all people? Didn't you just tell me how he keeps ignoring you?"

 

"It's a long story."

 

"Are you okay?"

 

Taiga shrugged. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't. 

 

"Okay, let's start with the basics. Do you regret it?"

 

Taiga took a deep breath, his eyes still focused on the paused game screen. "I don't know. It just happened."

 

Juri nodded slowly. "And now what?"  

 

"I don’t know what it means. For us. For me. For anything. It’s like, I was hoping we could get back to some sort of normal colleagues, but now everything feels even more complicated."

 

Juri leaned back, running a hand through his hair. He was usually good with words, but this time, he was at a loss. Taiga couldn't help but think: if even Juri couldn't figure out what to say, how messed up could Hokuto and his relationship be?

 

"Say Kyomo, are you in love with him?"

 

"No! I don't even know him these days. How could I possibly be in love with him?"

 

"Well, you two have a history together. Although it didn't last that long, it surely meant something for you back then--that guy meant something for you, admit it or not. It would be weird if you could just forget him like that. I mean, you two never managed to talk things through but left them hanging like that."

 

"I don't know. He was the one wanting to cut ties with me."

 

"Are you sure it went like that? I remember you going on about testing him if he'll contact you or not."

 

Taiga's face fell. He had convinced himself that it had been Hokuto who had wanted to end things back then but maybe his own behavior hadn't really helped the situation.

 

"Do you think maybe... I don't know, you're searching for something in him that you feel you need to fix?" Juri suggested. "I mean, it's not uncommon to have these urges to mend something from the past, especially given how things ended between you two. And I hate to say this, Kyomo, but you also tend to ruminate on your anxieties, so that might be playing a role too."

 

Taiga leaned back into the couch. He was too tired and didn't have enough strength to even try to deny Juri's words.

 

"I don't know, Juri. I really don't know."

 

"I know this might not be what you want to hear, but I still think talking to him could help. Keeping it all inside won't make it go away."

 

"And what if that talking makes things worse?" Taiga countered. "What if it ruins whatever fragile thing we have?"

 

"Maybe it will, maybe it won't," Juri said. "You won't know unless you try. But honestly, it sounds like you're both already pretty messed up over this. I think you can't make it any worse after you've now already jumped into his bed." 

 

"Well, thanks for that."

 

"Sorry for being honest, but you needed to hear it."

 

Taiga sighed. He looked away, staring at the paused video game on the screen. Juri was right, of course, but knowing that didn't make it any easier. The thought of talking to Hokuto, of potentially reopening old wounds and starting fighting again, was daunting. Taiga had always been good at hiding his feelings, at putting up a front. It was easier to avoid talking, to keep things as they were.

 

He was more confused than ever.

 

*****

 

Taiga has heard stories of others whose hanahaki symptoms become a little easier when they are away from the object of their love. But for him, it seems to be quite the opposite. The more he tries to push Hokuto from his mind, the more vividly he remembers him. The distance between them only seems to exacerbate his condition, intensifying the ache in his chest and the persistent blooms of flowers caught in his throat.

 

His appetite diminishes to almost nothing, as swallowing becomes a painful ordeal. And then comes a day when he faints in the middle of the daylight. A wave of nausea comes all of a sudden and he tries to grab at the nearest piece of furniture for support, but it's no use. His vision tunnels to a pinprick of light, and then darkness overtakes him.

 

When Taiga regains consciousness, he finds himself sprawled on the floor, disoriented and gasping for breath. The pain in his chest is excruciating, so incredibly sharp. He realizes he must have hit his head as well.

 

After the incident, his doctor immediately writes him a sick leave note and tells him that he needs to drop off work.

 

The most difficult situation comes when he has to inform his manager about it. 

 

"What can I do for you?" Yuki asks, gesturing for him to take a seat opposite her desk but Taiga remains standing.

 

"I need to talk to you about something," Taiga starts. "I think I need to take sick leave. I'm not feeling well enough to participate in the next audition round."

 

Yuki's brow furrows slightly. "Sick leave? Kyomoto, we're in the final rounds of auditions. This is a crucial time," she says, not even trying to hide her disappointment. "You know how competitive it is out there. Taking time off now could mean missing out on important opportunities."

 

"I understand. But I've been feeling unwell lately. It's affecting my performance," Taiga explains quietly.

 

Yuki sighs, leaning back in her chair and pinching the bridge of her nose. "I get it. Your health comes first, always. But you have to understand the stakes here. This industry doesn't wait for anyone."

 

"I know," Taiga says. "But I need some time to recover. I promise I'll be back as soon as I'm able to."

 

Yuki studies him for a moment.

 

"Alright," she finally concedes with a nod. "Take the time you need. Just remember that opportunities don't wait around."

 

Taiga bows, lowering his head to his knees in apology. "I'm sorry for being a burden."

 

"Well, get well soon. We'll see you back here when you're ready," his manager concludes their meeting.



*****

Taiga's visits to Hokuto's apartment fell into a predictable routine, like a well-rehearsed sequence.

 

He followed the pattern like on autopilot. After each show, Taiga navigated the familiar route to Hokuto's apartment. They never left the theater at the same time, avoiding suspicion and potential questions from others. When he arrived at the apartment building, Taiga took the stairs to the second floor. Upon reaching Hokuto's door, he usually paused briefly, gathering himself before knocking softly. Hokuto always greeted him with a blank expression and ushered him in.

 

When Taiga arrived, there was no need for small talk or pleasantries. They greeted each other briefly before shedding their clothes. There were no tender words exchanged or soft touches shared; their interactions were strictly functional, driven solely by physical desire.

 

They never kissed, at least not on the lips. After undressing him, Hokuto would simply direct Taiga to assume a position, usually avoiding too much eye contact. There was a silent agreement between them, an unspoken rule that kissing might complicate what they had and blur the lines between their physical and emotional selves.

 

They also never talked about it. Which wasn’t surprising. They had long ago lost the ability to discuss anything that could be considered even slightly deep or emotional.

 

When Taiga sang or delivered lines from a script, they weren't his own. That he could master. But once his own words would leave his mouth, they would be his, and he would need to stand behind them. He feared that any attempt to talk about something real might ruin the fragile equilibrium they had established. He couldn't afford to expose himself, his vulnerability, his complicated thoughts, because it could potentially break everything.

 

Once their physical needs were met, they lay always tangled together for a moment, the silence punctuated only by the sound of their heavy breathing. There was no tenderness, no soft caresses, or whispered confessions of affection. Then they would have a short conversation about some mundane topic. Their conversation continued on safe topics, skirting around any deeper subjects or personal revelations. It was safer that way, a distraction from whatever was beneath the surface of their carefully constructed routine.

 

Taiga was always prepared to leave immediately afterward, certain that Hokuto desired the same. Then came the day that changed things. 

 

"They're predicting rain later today," Taiga said on one Wednesday evening.

 

Hokuto glanced out the window, where dark clouds were indeed gathering on the horizon. "You'll get all wet on the way to the station," he said.

 

Taiga chuckled. "Well, at least it'll wash away some of that pollen," he said.

 

"Looking on the bright side, huh?"

 

"Gotta find the silver lining somewhere."

 

"But you'll catch a cold. We shouldn't risk that our head star gets sick. Just stay for the night?"

 

Taiga was taken aback. They had never discussed staying overnight, neither of them had suggested such a thing. The idea of spending more time together in Hokuto's apartment, beyond their usual routine, felt oddly intimate.

 

"Um, sure," Taiga replied after a brief pause. "I mean, if it's okay with you?"

 

"Yes, it's fine. We can share the bed."

 

On that night, Taiga struggled to sleep. He listened to the rain drumming behind the window. Then he turned to watch Hokuto’s sleeping form beside him, wondering what thoughts lay behind those closed eyes, what emotions lurked within that guarded heart. Hokuto kept all his feelings hidden, and Taiga knew he was the last person Hokuto would ever willingly reveal them to.

 

Despite the detachment and routine of their encounters, something stirred within Taiga. He knew this wasn't just physical—it had seeped into his thoughts, his dreams, his waking moments. It was raw, real, and it frightened him because it meant he cared more than he wanted to admit even to himself.

 

They continued as two actors in a play of their own making, avoiding the lines out of the script they were both too afraid of.

 

*****

 

Taiga's body is seized by an abrupt, wrenching force. It stings and convulsions come. He bends over, his chest tight, and begins to expel flowers from his mouth with each heave. The pink petals cascade to the ground. Tears well up in the corners of his eyes as he struggles to catch his breath, each gasp feeling like a fight for survival.

 

He realizes this is exactly how it can potentially end for him. He's known it all along, the cause of his death would be suffocation, asphyxiation, but now the picture hits his mind with startling clarity.

 

He sees himself slowly suffocating, struggling for air but finding none. Each breath would grow weaker until he couldn't draw in anymore. The flowers would choke him and stay stuck in his throat. And then, it would all come to an end. He wonders if the very final moment hurts.  

 

He pictures how they would discover his body: alone, surrounded by a sea of flowers, some clinging to his lips, tears streaking down his cheeks. Perhaps a passerby would stumble upon him because of the smell. Or maybe it would be Juri who would find him, and Taiga shudders at the thought of his friend witnessing such a horrible scene.

 

He imagines his parents and how devastated they would be. Their hearts would be shattered by the news of their son's tragic end. They have always worried about Taiga, his health, and his happiness. Their worst fear would come to them and they'd be left with grief for the rest of their lives.

 

He wonders how Hokuto would react if he heard about Taiga's death. When would Hokuto learn about it, and who would be the one telling him that news? Would Hokuto even care? Would he be sad? Would it hold any weight for him, or would it simply be brief sad news in his so-called busy life? Taiga pictures Hokuto's indifferent face, perhaps showing a fleeting shadow of sorrow before moving on with his day.

 

Taiga wonders if he'll be around long enough to see another spring.

 

 

*****

 

As the days passed, Taiga found himself drawn deeper into that weird relationship he and Hokuto shared. 

 

One evening, after a particularly exhausting show, Taiga found himself in Hokuto's apartment once again.

 

The room smelled like sex and they lay on Hokuto's bed, a tangled mess of sheets under them. 

 

They were both silent. Taiga's mind wandered as he lay on his side, back turned to Hokuto.

 

Suddenly, Hokuto shifted beside him, and his fingers started tracing lazy patterns on Taiga's bare back. Taiga closed his eyes and let himself soak in the feeling of Hokuto's touch.

 

"You okay?"

 

Taiga nodded. "Yeah, I'm good."

 

"You know," Hokuto said softly. "Remember when you told me you don't play guitar anymore?"

 

That surprised Taiga. He had mentioned this part of himself with Hokuto during one late-night conversation, but he hadn't thought that Hokuto would remember it.

 

"Yeah," Taiga said. "It's been a while."

 

"What happened?"

 

"Work got on the way, I guess."

 

"You were really good," Hokuto murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over Taiga's shoulder blade. "I remember how happy you always looked when you played. I used to watch you often. You had this way of losing yourself in the music, like nothing else mattered. I kind of miss that. Seeing you happy like that." 

 

Taiga's heart jumped a little bit at that. He turned around to face Hokuto.

 

Hokuto propped himself up on one elbow to gaze down at Taiga. His expression was soft, eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made Taiga's heart flutter. Hokuto brushed a lock of hair away from Taiga's forehead, his touch feather-light against his skin. However, just as he did so, Taiga shifted his head, inadvertently bringing their faces inches apart.

 

"I-," Taiga started. Pause. Swallow.  

 

Hokuto was so close. A mere inch separated their lips, and Taiga's heart pounded with the thought of what would happen if he allowed himself to move even slightly closer. Yet, he remained frozen in place, although he couldn't force himself to move away either.

 

Taiga squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think clearly, but his thoughts were a tangled mess. He inhaled Hokuto's scent. The longing was there, so fierce and undeniable that it was making it hard for him to stay still. He hated how his body responded to Hokuto's closeness. He felt terrified, so terrified and so exposed.

 

But then it happened.

 

Hokuto leaned down and closed the distance between them, his lips meeting Taiga's in a kiss.

 

The kiss was sloppy and extremely slow, Hokuto's ragged breath through his nose against Taiga's. Everything about it was as clumsy as possible.

 

Taiga melted into it.

 

As Hokuto's lips moved against his, Taiga could feel his own pulse speeding up in his veins. He felt the push of Hokuto's tongue on his, and Taiga let him deepen the kiss. He didn't even try to stop him, but his hands moved of their own accord, gently cradling Hokuto's face between his palms.

 

When they parted, they took a moment just looking at each other. Again, Taiga would have wanted to say. To ask. To hear.

 

But before he could say anything, Hokuto leaned in again, capturing Taiga's lips in another kiss, this time with a bit more certainty and hunger.

 

Taiga was pretty sure that kissing equaled breaking the last rule between them and they were now close to something even more dangerous.

 

*****

 

Taiga hates being trapped in a body that betrays him with each passing breath. He hates himself for being so weak, for succumbing to the whims of his own heart. He despises the fragility of his emotions, the way they have made him vulnerable and left him in this pathetic state.

 

He wishes he never met Hokuto. He curses every glance, every touch, and every moment that led him to this point. The fragility of his stupid emotions has turned his life into a nightmare, and he resents every second of it.

 

But despite the pain and the hatred inside him, he cannot deny the truth. He loves Hokuto. He loves him so much it hurts, and that love is the very thing that is killing him. It's a cruel twist of fate, to be destroyed by the one thing he cherishes most.

 

In the back of his mind, a small, desperate part of him wishes for a miracle, for something or someone to save him from this torment. But he knows better. He knows that this is his fate.

 

*****

 

It was a rare day off in the middle of the week, and Taiga found himself at Hokuto’s apartment again. There were no shows, no rehearsals, just a small break in their hectic schedules. The sunlight filtered through the blinds.

 

Taiga stretched on the couch, glancing around the familiar space. It felt different today, quieter, more intimate. Hokuto was in the kitchen, preparing coffee for them, and the scent wafted through his apartment.

 

When Hokuto returned, he was holding a couple of mugs in one hand and a DVD case in the other. He set the coffee down on the table and held up the DVD.

 

“Found this while cleaning up,” he said. “It’s from our play two years ago. Thought we could watch it.”

 

Taiga’s heart skipped a beat. Memories of that time came back, memories intertwined with their complicated relationship that had gone through many phases and defined what it was on that day. He nodded, unable to find the words. Hokuto popped the DVD into the player.

 

They settled on the couch. The screen flickered to life and the opening scenes played out. Soon they were watching their slightly younger selves perform. Taiga felt strange. He had forgotten so many things about the past.  

 

Next to him, Hokuto’s focus was on the screen, but Taiga couldn’t help stealing quick glances at him from time to time. There were subtle changes in his expression as he kept watching, but Taiga had a hard time reading them. 

 

A particularly emotional scene played out on the screen, and Taiga felt a lump forming in his throat. It was a scene they had rehearsed countless times, and watching it now, with Hokuto beside him, felt surreal. There had been times when he had thought he wouldn't even see Hokuto ever again.

 

Taiga shifted slightly, drawing his knees up to his chest, hugging them as if to protect himself.

 

He glanced at Hokuto again, and this time, Hokuto met his gaze. There was something in his eyes, something unguarded.

 

“Do you remember that day?” Taiga asked.

 

“I do. We nailed that scene after so many tries.”

 

“We really did."

 

"It feels like a lifetime ago.”

 

"It does."

 

They fell into silence again, watching as the show continued on the screen.

 

As the credits rolled, Taiga turned to Hokuto. His mind was buzzing with questions.

 

“Why did you want to show me that?” he asked.

 

"I don’t know,” Hokuto said. “Like I said, I found it yesterday while cleaning and thought it might be nice to watch it together.”

 

“It just brought back a lot of memories,” Taiga said, searching for the right words. “Good ones, but also everything else.”

 

Hokuto looked down at his hands. “Yeah, it did. I guess I just wanted to recall those times a little bit. Things were so different back then.”

 

They sat back down on the couch, falling quiet for a good moment.

 

Taiga couldn't hold his tongue any longer.

 

“Do you ever think about what happened back then? Between us, I mean.”

 

Hokuto's jaw tightened slightly, and he looked away.

 

“Sometimes.” 

 

“Because we never really dealt with. We never talked about it properly."

 

Hokuto's jaw tightened even more, and he looked away, his gaze fixed on a point in the distance. Taiga saw immediately he had touched a nerve. The way how uncomfortable Hokuto looked, it was clear that he wasn't ready to talk about it. Taiga felt a sting in his chest, recognizing Hokuto's familiar tactic of shutting him out, avoiding anything deeper. It was always the same.

 

Taiga swallowed hard. Maybe he had been stupid for half-wishing they were able to address their issues, and Hokuto had wanted to show him that DVD because he wanted them to talk.

 

He let out a sigh, his shoulders tensing as if bracing himself for an uncomfortable conversation.

 

“Hokuto, maybe we should just—”

 

But before he could finish his sentence, Hokuto leaned forward. His hand reached out to gently grasp Taiga's chin, turning his face towards him. Taiga's breath caught in his throat. 

 

“Maybe we should,” Hokuto murmured. Then he leaned in, closing the distance between them.

 

The kiss deepened quickly. Hokuto's hands threaded through Taiga's hair and pulled him closer. Taiga's arms wrapped around Hokuto's waist, pulling him into his lap. They started taking their clothes off as quickly as possible, throwing them to the floor.

 

In the end, Hokuto bit his lower lip as he slid down on Taiga's cock. Taiga sighed loudly because it felt just too good having Hokuto's weight resting on his hips like that and now feeling that incredible heatness around him.



Hokuto rose his body up just a little before dropping down again. Taiga could feel some lube on his thigh, it was leaking from Hokuto with each bounce. Hokuto's fingers dug into the skin of Taiga's shoulders.



It was messy, their rhythm inconsistent, their moans incoherent. Hokuto only lasted so long before Taiga was the one starting to thrust up into him, and he came undone like that. He fell forward with a groan and a scrunch of his eyebrows and caught himself with his arms on either side of Taiga's head before Taiga came and spilled inside him.

 

They held each other like that for a moment, waiting for their breathing to calm down. Taiga could feel Hokuto's heartbeat against his chest, steady and strong. He wanted to stay in that embrace forever, to pretend that everything was fine and normal between them. But he knew that things weren't fine. Things weren't normal. They hadn't been like that for a long time. 

 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Hokuto gently pulled away from Taiga.

 

“I should probably sleep at home tonight,” Taiga said, almost too quickly. “It's getting late. And there's a show tomorrow.”

 

“Sure,” Hokuto said.

 

Taiga rose up and went to the toilet. When he came back, he started gathering his things while putting his clothes on.

 

Hokuto eventually followed him to the foyer. Taiga hesitated for a moment. But he couldn't bring himself to say anything, not at that moment. 

 

“Good night,” Taiga wished him.

 

“See you tomorrow,” Hokuto replied tightly.

 

Taiga stepped out into the hallway, the door closing behind him. As he made his way down the familiar route to the street, his mind swirled with frustration and maybe some sadness. For a moment that evening, he had hoped that tonight might be different, that they could finally start talking about the painful things between them. But once again, Hokuto had retreated into his shell, and they had distracted themselves. It looked like sleeping together and doing whatever physical was their way to escape the uncomfortable situation.

 

Apparently, they were both so afraid of breaking the fragile thing they had built that they were willing to sacrifice their chance at genuine connection. And as much as it pained him, Taiga didn’t know how to break through Hokuto's walls without risking everything.

 

*****

 

In the elevator, Taiga feels it coming. He knows he has to get into a toilet, and quickly. He clutches at the railing for support as the elevator ascends, each floor ticking by painfully slowly.

 

As soon as the doors slide open, he stumbles out. His fingers shake as he fumbles for the lock. His hands are slick with sweat when he finally manages to open the door and get inside.

 

He tries to rush through the hallway towards the toilet but his steps falter as he feels the burning pressure rising in his chest.

 

He doesn't make it in time.

 

With a desperate lurch, he bends over, his body almost folding in half as a torrent of whole cherry blossom flowers bursts forth from his mouth in violent coughing. Blooded cherry blossom flowers drop on the hallway floor, some of them falling on his collar and some petals staying in the corner of his mouth. Gasping for air, Taiga struggles to remain conscious as he sits down, leaning heavily against the bathroom door.

 

Only after the coughing ends does he notice Juri on the other side of the hallway. He stares at Taiga with a mix of shock and concern, all paralyzed.

 

Juri's shock quickly turns to evident upset as he steps closer to Taiga, his brows furrowed.

 

"How long has this been going on?" he demands, his voice strained. He takes a look at the blooded flowers scattered on their apartment floor. He runs his fingers through his hair and takes a few steps front and back, swaying on his feet.

 

Taiga meets Juri's gaze. He knows that he can't escape it any longer.

 

"Months."

 

Juri's eyes widen in disbelief. "Months?" he repeats, sounding even more upset. "Why didn't you tell me?"

 

Taiga shifts uncomfortably. "I... I didn't want you to worry," he admits.

 

Juri's face drops at that. It's not a fair thing to say, Taiga knows it very well. It's been a very bad excuse to keep something so significant hidden from a friend.

 

"Juri, it's hanaha-"

 

But Juri cuts him sharply before Taiga is able to finish his sentence.

 

"Stop. I know fucking well what that is. You don't have to tell me."

 

Taiga closes his mouth. He has never seen Juri like that. Even during his bad days, Juri has never snapped at him like that.

 

They lapse into silence for what feels like an eternity until Juri breaks it.

 

"You go and rest now, I'll clean- this," Juri mumbles.

 

But Taiga doesn't move. He stays seated on the floor, watching as Juri first disappears to the kitchen and then returns with a wet cloth, napkins, and a trash bag. 

 

Juri starts picking the flowers with the napkins and tossing them one by one into the trash bag. He stays quiet as he rolls the dirty carpet away and then starts rubbing the floor with the wet cloth.

 

Taiga watches in silence as Juri works, his heart aching with every passing moment. 

 

"You can stop, Juri. It's clean," Taiga murmurs quietly. But Juri doesn't respond, doesn't stop. He only continues violently rubbing the floor with the wet cloth. 

 

Taiga feels helpless. He bites his lip. He would like to reach out and offer a comforting hand or a reassuring word—anything that would take away whatever Juri is feeling at that moment. But all he can do is watch in silence.

 

Taiga reaches out and gently touches Juri's leg, stopping him. Juri freezes, his whole body looking tense. Slowly, he turns to face Taiga, and Taiga's heart sinks as he realizes Juri's eyes are brimming with tears.

 

Juri's facade crumbles, and he breaks down, his body shaking with silent sobs. He drops to his knees next to Taiga and buries his face in his hands.

 

Taiga pulls him into an embrace, placing his other hand on the back of Juri's head, and soothes his hair. 

 

Juri sobs and all his words come out in choked whispers. 

 

"Kyomo--don't leave me. Please-I-I- can't do this alone."

 

Taiga's heart shatters at the desperation in Juri's voice. He holds his friend tighter. It's his fault. He is causing Juri agony like, and it gnaws him so bad that he feels it in his bones.

 

They stay like that for a long time.

 

***** 

 

The final performance of their musical came. For Taiga the day was heavy. It wasn't just the culmination of months of hard work and dedication, but also a milestone that marked a turning point in his relationship with Hokuto in one way or another. 

 

However, earlier that day, Taiga had noticed a subtle shift in the way Hokuto acted. They had arrived at the theater early to get prepared. Soon Taiga had noticed that something was off with Hokuto. He had responded to everyone's questions with monosyllabic answers and avoided making eye contact. Even during their vocal warm-ups, Hokuto's singing had lacked its usual vigor and his voice had sounded distant, almost as if he had been holding back. 

 

Taiga had felt the familiar annoyance building up inside him as he had watched Hokuto continue to withdraw into himself. Because it wasn't the first time he had seen this behavior, and now that it had resurfaced, it had reopened wounds immediately.

 

Taiga stood before the mirror, adjusting the collar of his costume. His mind, however, was elsewhere. He glanced at the clock, noting the minutes ticking away inexorably toward showtime.

 

"Are you ready for tonight?" Hokuto asked abruptly, his tone clipped. He kept rearranging things on the table, absent-mindedly fiddling with each item as he took it into his hands.

 

Taiga turned to face him. "As ready as I'll ever be," he replied with forced cheerfulness but it probably came out a little bit forced.

 

"Right," Hokuto muttered, his attention fixed on the metallic heads of a prop umbrella that he kept adjusting unnecessarily.

 

"Are we going to continue seeing each other after this?" Taiga blurted out. He wasn't even supposed to say that, but it just came out before he could stop himself.

 

Hokuto paused, his hands stilling for a moment before he continued fiddling with the metallic heads. Taiga already knew he didn't want to hear Hokuto's answer. Not anymore. The silence already told enough.

 

"I don't know," Hokuto finally managed to say quietly. He avoided Taiga's gaze.

 

"You don't know?" Taiga repeated incredulously, his voice shaking despite his efforts to keep it steady. "What does that even mean?"

 

Hokuto finally turned to face him.

 

"It means," he began slowly as if he was choosing his words carefully, "that things are complicated right now. Between us."

 

"Complicated? We've been dancing around this for weeks, Hokuto. No, we're talking about months. I've tried to open a discussion with you but you've been avoiding it. But now, on the night of our last performance, you're telling me it's complicated?"

 

Hokuto looked away, his gaze dropping to the carpeted floor.

 

"Fine," Taiga said finally, unable to hide his hurt. "I guess that's all I'm going to get from you."

 

With that, he turned abruptly and walked towards the stage entrance, leaving Hokuto in the dressing room.

 

Taiga tried to push aside his emotions as he stepped into the spotlight, focusing on his role and on singing the lines he had rehearsed countless times. But the memory of their argument somehow hung in the back of his mind, distracting him more than he wanted to admit.

 

As the show progressed, Taiga struggled to maintain his composure. His mind kept replaying their conversation, thinking how he was such an idiot falling into the exact same situation. They hadn't learned anything. During a particularly emotional scene, as Taiga was about to sing, a sharp cough came out. He tried to suppress it, but it persisted, forcing its way through his throat. Taiga kept coughing and coughing. The audience's attention shifted, and Taiga could see some of the people whispering to each other nervously.

 

Taiga's panicked. He had never coughed in the middle of a performance before. It felt like a betrayal coming from the gods, making him fail at what he had worked so hard for.

 

Taiga finally managed to calm down his coughing. But he struggled through the remainder of the song to suppress another one coming. Despite the tickle in the back of his throat, he managed to finish the song. His voice wavered slightly, but he pushed through. 

 

He eventually pushed through the entire show. The audience applauded warmly at the end, and Taiga bowed mechanically in the row with everyone else. Maybe the audience had already forgotten the whole incident, but Taiga couldn't shake the disappointment of how their last stage had failed like that.

 

Once backstage, everyone circled in, wishing each other all the good, but Taiga walked past them. He didn't have time to stay there. He stormed through the corridor, almost running.

 

He threw open the dressing room door without knocking, just to find Hokuto in the middle of removing his costume. Hokuto looked up in surprise but his expression shifted quickly to concern as he saw Taiga. Taiga didn't let him say anything.

 

"What the hell was that, Hokuto?!" Taiga shouted at him. "You ruined our performance. You ruined everything!"

 

Hokuto stared at him. "I didn't ruin anything," he replied evenly, though his voice quivered slightly. "You were the one who—"

 

"Don't you dare blame me for this!" Taiga cut him off sharply, his voice echoing off the walls of the small dressing room. "You've been distant, and then you drop that bomb just before the performance? Tell me, do you even care about others? Do you care about anyone else but yourself?"

 

"Of course, I care," Hokuto said. "But things have been complicated between us, and you know that. I wanted to be honest with you because you asked."

 

"Complicated? That's your excuse?" Taiga scoffed, his fists clenched at his sides. "I'm tired of your excuses, Hokuto. I'm tired of us playing this game."

 

Silence filled the room, thick and suffocating. Taiga's chest heaved with each breath. He felt betrayed, not just by Hokuto's behavior that night, but by the uncertainty that had plagued their relationship for too long.

 

"I hate you," Taiga blurted out. "I hate you so much for making me feel like this."

 

Hokuto's eyes widened in hurt, his breath catching in his throat. He took a step closer to Taiga, reaching out tentatively. "Kyomoto, I-"

 

"Don't," Taiga cut him off sharply, stepping back out of Hokuto's reach. "Don't say a word."

 

He stormed out.

 

*****

 

"You need to have the surgery. As soon as possible," Juri says.

 

"No, I won't," Taiga automatically refuses. "I can't, and I won't."

 

"For fuck's sake, of course you will! You can't keep living like this," Juri says, his voice rising with each word. "We both know what will happen if you don't take action now that the disease has progressed that far."

 

Taiga's fists clench at his sides so hard that his knuckles go white. He feels his hands are shaking. 

 

"I won't lose my memories," Taiga says. "I can't take such a risk."

 

"You'll lose them anyway if you're dead."

 

Taiga's expression darkens. "What's the point of living," he says very quietly, "when I won't know you, anyone, or anything about my life?"

 

Juri reaches out to grasp Taiga's cold hands. "I'll help you," he says. "I'll tell you everything. I'll share your thoughts, your memories, everything I can. I'll be ready to even write it all down, even though that's not really my thing. And I'll stay right beside you, I won't go anywhere."

 

Taiga stays silent for a while before he speaks in a quiet tone. 

 

"But... they're still not my memories. It won't be me." 

 

That's the hardest part. He can't quite understand what it means to be dead, but he knows it's meant to be like feeling nothing. Yet, the idea of being alive but feeling nothing at all is just as daunting. Either way, it all leads to the same ending. The same terrifying ending.

 

"But you can't leave me," Juri begs. He sounds so desperate.

 

"Juri. I need to leave you anyway. You must think about me as well."

 

He struggles to find words. He'd like to say he wishes Juri would understand him, understand him so that Taiga wouldn't feel so lonely. He wishes Juri would understand the reasons behind his decision. Now, it feels like he's facing everything alone.

 

"I'm sorry," Taiga finally manages. "I didn't want this to happen either."

 

"It's Hokuto, isn't it."

 

Taiga closes his eyes, tears stinging behind the lids. He hates Juri saying that aloud. He didn't want to hear that.

 

"Yes," he breathes because he doesn't have the strength to deny a direct question like that, not now.

 

"Of course it's him. I'm disappointed. Mostly because I didn't figure all this out sooner."

 

Of course it's him, Taiga repeats Juri's words to himself in his mind, the bitterness of the truth settling like a heavy stone in his chest.

 

"I don't want to hear any 'I told you's right now," Taiga says.

 

"I wasn't going to."  

 

"Just please, don't be angry at him," Taiga pleads. "It's not his fault. If there's anyone to blame, it's all my fault. I let it continue for too long, even when I saw the warning flags."

 

He would like to explain it to Juri properly. Telling him how something just kept pulling him towards Hokuto, all those moments with him too tempting to resist.

 

Juri sighs, sounding like his frustration is now melting into concern. "Kyomo, you can't keep doing this to yourself. This- this disease is killing you. Literally."

 

Taiga swallows hard. "I know," he says. "But what can I do? I've tried to move on, but it's like he's everywhere, in everything. It doesn't matter what I do or what I think, he's there. I can't escape."

 

"You need to talk to him. Tell him."

 

Taiga shakes his head. "I can't. I can't tell him. I can't hurt him anymore. I've already hurt him enough."

 

"Kyomo, you can't keep sacrificing yourself for someone who doesn't even know what you're going through."

 

"But it's not his fault. He didn't ask for any of this. He didn't choose to be the cause of this," Taiga insists.

 

"You didn't choose this either," Juri counters gently. "But here you are, suffering because of it."

 

He didn't choose this either, that's for sure. But Taiga realizes the one thing he did choose was not to confront Hokuto properly. He chose to hide his feelings, to suffer in silence and build up that bitter feeling inside him, rather than risk everything by being honest. He let himself be stuck in that weird limbo where they weren't proper friends, but also not enemies who hated each other. 

 

"It's not fair to you or to him. He deserves to know the truth, and you deserve a chance to heal," Juri continues.

 

But Juri doesn't understand that part. Taiga can't heal.

 

"You don't get it, do you?" Taiga says. "It's not just about contacting him, telling him and moving on. It's about what happens after. Even if I tell him, even if he doesn't hate me, there's this thing inside me. It doesn't just go away. The feelings don't disappear."

 

Taiga falls silent, thinking about his own words. He’s wished so many times he was wrong, that he could just wake up one day and feel the love coming back to him. But it doesn't matter what he wishes or what he doesn't because he simply knows he’s right. To truly heal, he'd need to hear that Hokuto feels something deeper towards him as well. And the worst part is, he should believe it. With all his sincere heart and mind, he should believe that Hokuto loves him back.

 

But with such a painful history, Taiga can't imagine a scenario where he'd ever believe that. He doesn't deserve love. No one could ever truly love him because he has always been just a bitter, difficult person who can't move forward. The last person to love him would be Hokuto because Taiga has already made countless mistakes with him and said horrible things he regrets from the bottom of his heart.

 

"I feel so trapped," he then cries out.

 

Juri can only send him a sad look across the table. 

 

*****

 

Taiga stood outside Hokuto's apartment, his knuckles wavering just inches from the door. He hadn't called or sent a message. It had been a spontaneous decision driven by his frustration. Yet, he didn't also know what had driven him to come behind Hokuto's door again. Maybe because he also knew he couldn't end it just like that, not this time.

 

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The seconds that followed felt like an eternity until finally, the door opened. 

 

"What are you doing here?" Hokuto stood by the doorway, his voice was cold.

 

"We're going to have a talk now," Taiga replied, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

 

Hokuto closed the door behind him. "Talk about what, exactly?"

 

Taiga took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he knew he had to say next.

 

"Two years ago," he muttered.

 

"Excuse me?" 

 

"Two years ago. Why didn't you ever even try to contact me?" Taiga's voice rang out with hurt and frustration. "Not a single message, not a call. I waited for you, damn it!"

 

Hokuto's jaw tightened. "It's not like you tried to contact me either. But I'm telling you, it wasn't easy. I just had my reasons." 

 

"What reasons?

 

"Just reasons," Hokuto stated.

 

"Just reasons? That's all you're going to say after everything we've been through?"

 

"Kyomoto, you have no idea-"

 

"No idea?" Taiga interrupted. "I have every idea! I've spent the last two years trying to make sense of why you disappeared from my life just like that!"

 

He couldn't help asking a question that had been bothering him all this time: "Did you know that they first offered me that role in that movie, but I refused it?"

 

Hokuto watched him blankly as if he were processing Taiga's words. Then he shook his head in disbelief.

 

"Seriously?" Hokuto hissed angrily. "I mean, seriously? Is it that thing that all this is about?"

 

"Just answer my question."

 

"Yes, Kyomoto. I knew they offered it to you first. There you go. Happy now?"

 

"I just wanted you to admit it, that's all."

 

"And now what?" Hokuto pushed. "You want to be bitter forever about something that you rejected, but I took the chance? Or do you want me to be thankful to you?"

 

Hokuto clearly didn't understand at all.

 

"It's not about that," Taiga muttered. He gritted his teeth together.

 

"What is it then? What do you want, Kyomoto?"

 

Taiga clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palm.

 

"Can't you just leave me alone?" he said.

 

"I don't understand you at all," Hokuto said, rubbing his temples. "If you want to be alone, then why do you keep coming here?"

 

"Because you don't stop me! Do us both a favor and stop fucking opening the door for me," Taiga exclaimed angrily, his voice rising.

 

"What do you want from me?"

 

"I don't want anything from you."

 

"You say that. Then you come here."

 

"Like I said, stop opening the door for me. End the cycle."

 

Taiga just wanted to feel nothing at all towards Hokuto. He wanted to be indifferent and unaffected by him.

 

Hokuto took a deep, difficult breath.

 

"This is too much for me," he finally said. "I can't keep doing this, I can't pretend any longer."

 

"What do you mean with pretend?" Taiga asked. His mouth felt dry. "Pretend what?"

 

Hokuto shook his head and his sigh was heavy.

 

"I can't pretend I'm fine with this."

 

Taiga's heart clenched at those words. Now that Hokuto finally said it aloud, the reality of their situation hit him like a freight train. He knew Hokuto was right and had already known for a while that they couldn't keep going like that.

 

It was everything too much for Hokuto. For both of them. Taiga was too much for Hokuto.

 

"Tell me what you want Kyomoto. We can make it work if you just tell me what you want."

 

Taiga's throat tightened, his chest heavy with longing. In a way, he wanted to open up, but the weight of everything on him held him back like chains. Hokuto didn't understand. It had never mattered what Taiga wanted. No one had ever been interested in that. Every time he had tried to voice his desires, it had ended up in a fight, a breach, a misunderstanding, or worse, complete abandonment. He had learned early on to keep his wants hidden, to bury them deep where they couldn't hurt anyone, least of all himself.

 

"I- I..." Taiga began, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the right words.

 

But before he could speak, Hokuto shook his head, a weary expression in his eyes.

 

"Forget it," he muttered. "I should have known better than to expect anything different from you. You're not able to be honest and open with me. How should I expect that from you when you're not even able to look me in the eye?"

 

Hokuto closed his eyes before continuing, sounding defeated when he sighed.

 

"I really wish I could just have ways to end this completely," he said.

 

Taiga needed to bite his lip hard. "Why don't you then?"

 

Hokuto didn't answer.

 

"Fine then. I'll do that for you then," Taiga said. "Maybe this is how it was always supposed to end. I tell you: this is over. We're over."

 

Unable to bear the situation any longer, Taiga turned to leave.

 

But before he could take a single step, he felt Hokuto's arms wrap around him from behind, pulling him into an embrace he didn't deserve.

 

Taiga wished he had the strength, he wished his mind was strong enough, to push Hokuto away. But his mind was too weak, and he found himself collapsing to his knees, dragging Hokuto down with him.

 

As Hokuto's arms tightened around him, Taiga felt the walls around his heart crumble, leaving him exposed and vulnerable in a way he had never experienced before. He wanted to scream, to rage, anything that would make the feeling go away.

 

He broke down.

 

The raw sound that escaped his mouth was painful, and it almost scared him. It wasn't even a proper sob because no tears were running, but it was almost like the sound of a wounded animal, a sound of pure pain.

 

Every breath Taiga let out was a struggle. The pain felt like kicking his chest. Even though he swallowed and he could feel the air in his lungs, he couldn't breathe properly. It felt like the pain was crushing him. 

 

"I hate this, I hate this, I hate this," Taiga sobbed. His vision blurred. He couldn't see anymore because everything hurt, everything hurt like hell.

 

He couldn't hold himself up anymore. There were no bones in him anymore, only a piercing, a riddling of aches hitting him over and over. Taiga's head dropped against Hokuto's arms and he couldn't stop the tears coming. He cried.

 

He cried. 

 

He swallowed. It hurt. There were no words to describe how he felt. Hurt seemed too little. Even the bigger words, the biggest ones, were too little. Tears kept flowing out of his tightly closed eyes.

 

Hokuto arms tightened around him. Taiga still wanted to push him away, to scream at him for causing him so much pain, but he still couldn't find the strength. Instead, he buried his face deeper into Hokuto's arms.

 

"I thought we could make it work," Taiga cried. "I thought maybe this time would be different. But I can't keep living like this, Hokuto. Let me go."

 

Hokuto's body started trembling against Taiga's, his shoulders shaking. Then Taiga felt something wet and hot against his neck, searing a path down his skin. Hokuto was crying.  

 

"Please-" Hokuto sobbed.

 

"No," Taiga interrupted wearily. "Please. Just let me go."

 

Hokuto nodded wordlessly, his grip loosening as Taiga pulled away.

 

Taiga stood up. He took a small step back, his gaze staying on Hokuto, who remained crouched on the floor, head bowed and tears falling from his eyes. The sight tore Taiga. He couldn't bear to see Hokuto like that. Yet, he knew he couldn't stay. Not anymore.

 

As he turned to go, Taiga couldn't bring himself to look back. He did want to look back, to catch one last glimpse of Hokuto, to imprint his image in his memory forever. But the pain was too much, too suffocating.

 

Taiga stumbled outside, walking down the corridor. He managed to round a corner, away from the door of Hokuto's apartment, and took hold of the cold wall.

 

Taiga clasped at his stomach, bile rising in his throat, but when he tried to throw up, nothing came out. 

 

*****

 

When Kochi continues the session, Taiga keeps his gaze fixed on his hands. He clenches his fists so hard that his knuckles turn white, feeling the sting as his nails press into his palms.

 

"Taiga?" Kochi asks. Taiga raises his head. He blinks.

 

"Is there something that you'd like to say?" Kochi tries. He drags his gaze worryingly from Taiga's clenched fists to his face.

 

There is, and there isn't. Taiga would like to say a million things, but no words are enough to describe how he's feeling. He takes a deep breath. The words refuse to come out. His mouth is dry, his throat tight. The walls of the room seem to close in on him.

 

"I'm angry."

 

Kochi doesn't break eye contact with him.

 

"You're angry?" he repeats.

 

"I'm so angry I could throw things. I'm alone, and it doesn't matter what job I have or what I do or what I don't do, or what friends I have, he's not with me. He's not with me because he doesn't want to be with me. No matter what."

 

Taiga buries his face into his hands. Now that he's on it, he can't stop the words from coming out any longer, it's like flooding water breaking through the barriers he's been trying so hard to keep blocked. His voice cracks, the raw pain seeping through each syllable as he goes on. 

 

"I love him, you know? I love him with every fiber of my being, and it's tearing me apart. But at the same time, I hate him. I hate him with every cell in my body for leaving me like this, for making me feel this way. I love him so much while I hate him. I miss him. God, I miss him."

 

Everyone watches him silently. No one else in the room speaks.

 

Taiga can't take it. He's so tired of hurting, both physically and mentally.  

 

"Every night before going to sleep, I've started hoping I simply wouldn't wake up anymore," he says. "I'm tired of being so hurt, I'm tired of everything that this disease ever brought. But I'm afraid of dying. I don't want to die. I don't fucking want to die."

 

Taiga is sure his heart will soon bound out of his chest.

 

"I can't breathe," Taiga sobs, gasping for more air. "I can't breathe."

 

"We all are here for you, Taiga," Kochi says softly, his voice gentle. "And I want you to know that it's okay to feel angry and hurt. It's okay to feel all of these emotions."

 

"I don't want these emotions. Because I can't live with them," Taiga whispers, his voice trembling. "It's too hard. Everything. It's all too much."

 

"Hey, it's okay."

 

Kochi places his warm hand on his shoulder, but it only makes Taiga feel more exposed, more vulnerable.

 

"I'm sorry," Taiga mutters out between sobs. "I'm so sorry."

 

"It's okay," Kochi repeats. "You don't have to apologize. You're allowed to feel this way. Let it out."

 

But Taiga can only shake his head. "I don't want to feel this way. I want to be happy. I want to move on, but I can't. I can't."

 

*****

 

Taiga had landed a new role in an upcoming production, a character vastly different from his previous ones. It was a challenge he welcomed because it helped him distract himself. Rehearsals were set to start in a few weeks, and he had already thrown himself into preparations with all his energy.

 

"How's the new role coming along?" Juri asked as they sat by their living room the other evening. There were plates of delivery food on the table.

 

Taiga shrugged. "It's different. But I think I can handle it."

 

Juri smiled softly, pouring them both some beer. "I'm glad you're diving into something new. It's good for you."

 

"Thanks," Taiga said, picking up a pair of chopsticks. "And thanks for ordering all this. It looks delicious."

 

Juri waved off his thanks with a chuckle. "Consider it a peace offering from me forgetting to buy toilet paper so many times. Besides, I know you've been busy with rehearsals and all."

 

Taiga nodded, taking a bite of the food.

 

After a while of eating in silence, Juri set his chopsticks down. He cleared his throat and Taiga was expecting what he was going to ask.

 

"Have you heard from Hokuto?" 

 

As expected. Taiga sighed, his shoulders slumping a little bit. "No, not since that night. I haven't reached out either."

 

"I figured as much."

 

They fell into silence. Taiga appreciated Juri's way of being. Because Taiga didn't need words of sympathy; he just needed someone to share the silence with, a friend who understood.

 

After a few moments, Juri nodded to the table. "More food?"

 

Taiga smiled faintly. "Sure."

 

*****

 

Taiga slides a piece of paper across the table to Juri. On it, a phone number is scrawled in Taiga's neat handwriting.

 

"What's this?" Juri asks, his voice shaky as he picks up the paper.

 

"It's my childhood friend Shintaro's number," Taiga says. "I thought that maybe you shouldn't stay alone after I'm- gone, in one way or another. You might want to get to know him."

 

Juri's hands tremble as he stares at the paper. "Why are you doing this?"

 

Taiga reaches out, resting a hand on Juri's shaking fingers. "Because I don't seriously want you to be alone," he says. His voice is breaking slightly as he goes on, "And you're my friend, Juri. Friends look out for each other. Even when they're not together."

 

"Kyomo, you can't just disappear from my life and think a phone number is going to replace you just like that."

 

Taiga's chest aches as he sees the look in Juri's eyes. He sees hurt. "I know it won't replace me. But I want you to have someone you can rely on. Shintaro is a good guy. He's been there for me in the past, and I know he'll be there for you in the future."

 

Juri folds the paper carefully and tucks it into his pocket.

 

Taiga swallows hard, his heart breaking for what he's leaving behind and what he wishes he could change.

 

*****

 

On the next morning, Taiga woke up with a small cherry blossom petal on his pillow. 

 

He would end up dying because of feelings. And it was all his own fault.

 

He should have known better. 

 

*

*

*

*

*

 

Taiga has been having a bad day. He wakes up in the morning feeling an ache in his chest, a heaviness that makes it hard to breathe. The symptoms have been getting worse lately, and today is no exception. It feels like every day has become a little bit more difficult than the previous one. He spends the entire day in bed, coughing sporadically, each fit leaving him more exhausted than the last. His throat is raw from all the coughing. 

 

Then, just as he's about to slip into another fitful sleep, the doorbell rings. The sound jolts him upright. He coughs, the effort of getting out of bed leaving him kind of breathless. He stumbles to the door. Juri has gone out earlier, so Taiga is the only one at home. 

 

Taiga swings the door open and freezes immediately. There stands Hokuto, dressed in a vintage-style coat that seems oddly out of place in the modern apartment building. The coat is a deep shade of burgundy, its lapels adorned with intricate embroidery. His black hair is neatly combed. Taiga's heart pounds in his chest as he takes in the sight of Hokuto, looking both familiar and foreign. 

 

"Can I come in?" Hokuto asks quietly.

 

Taiga steps aside wordlessly, allowing Hokuto to enter. They stand awkwardly in the entryway, neither of them being able to say a word. 

 

"I didn't expect to see you," Taiga finally says, breaking the silence.

 

"I needed to see you," Hokuto begins.

 

"How did you know where I'm living?"

 

"I got a hint from someone." Juri. Of course. 

 

"Kyomoto," Hokuto says carefully, "there's something I really need to tell you. I want you to know."

 

But before Hokuto can continue, Taiga clears his throat, feeling an uncomfortable tickle building up. He coughs a couple of times.

 

Hokuto's expression tightens with worry. "Are you alright?" 

 

Taiga nods weakly, though his eyes water from the effort of suppressing another coughing fit.

 

"Just give me a moment," he manages to say hoarsely.

 

But he can't hold another fit coming. He starts coughing even louder. He doubles over slightly, his hand pressed against his chest as he tries to catch his breath. 

 

The concerned look on Hokuto's face deepens as he watches Taiga coughing like that. He moves closer instinctively. 

 

"That doesn't sound like you're fine. Maybe you should call a doctor," he suggests worriedly.

 

Taiga shakes his head weakly, trying to speak between coughs. "I'm... fine," he stutters, his voice coming out strained and hoarse.

 

But before either of them can say more, a violent cough wracks his body, and Taiga doubles over in agony. He feels something warm and wet rising in his throat, tasting the iron before it ultimately comes up. And before he can stop himself, he's spitting out a spurt of blood-shedded flowers and blood onto the floor. 

 

Hokuto's voice cuts through somewhere.

 

"Kyomoto, are you okay? What the fuck is happening?" 

 

But Taiga can barely hear Hokuto over the sound of his own ragged breathing. Each breath feels like a struggle like he's fighting against an invisible weight pressing down on his chest. He gasps for air, his lungs burning with the effort.

 

And then, with a final agonizing cough, Taiga collapses to the floor. He feels the pain as he painfully falls on his side with all his weight, his head hitting the hard floor with the blood flood on it, and his vision turning upside down.

 

Then, the world fades away into the darkness, leaving nothing but the echo of his own labored breathing until it becomes silent.

 

*****

 

As Taiga slowly opens his eyes, he finds himself staring up at a ceiling he doesn't recognize. Panic grips his chest as he tries to sit up, only to be met with a sharp wave of pain that radiates from every inch of his body. Confusion clouds his mind as he struggles to remember what happened and where he is.

 

A figure hovers over him, their features blurred and indistinct at first. Gradually, Taiga's vision clears, and he finds himself looking into Juri's eyes.

 

"Hey there, take it easy," Juri says in a soothing voice. "You're safe now. You had a bit of an accident, but it's going to be okay."

 

Taiga blinks. His throat feels dry and constricted as he manages to croak out.

 

"Wh-where am I?"

 

Juri wavers slightly, and Taiga notices the sadness in his eyes.

 

"You're in the hospital," he says calmly. "Like I said, you had a little accident, but the doctors are taking care of you now. It's going to be fine. I already called your parents, they're on their way."

 

Juri carefully reaches his hand to squeeze Taiga's hand.

 

"Fuck, Kyomo, you have to stop scaring me like this," Juri says, shoving his shoulder as if to chastise him, but there's no real harshness behind it. Only worry and sorrow.

 

"I'm sorry. I'll stop, I promise," Taiga says, trying to smile bravely. "I don't think I'll be able to do it anymore soon, anyway."

 

Juri's expression falters, and he squeezes Taiga's hand a little tighter. "Don't say that. We're going to find a way through this." He sighs. "I guess I should go and tell Hokuto that you're awake now."

 

"Hokuto... Is Hokuto here?" Taiga asks.

 

"Yes, he was the one who called the ambulance. He was with you when you collapsed."

 

A wave of dread washes over Taiga, his thoughts racing. "He knows now, doesn't he? He must know about everything."

 

"Don't worry. Hokuto isn't angry. He was scared. Terrified, actually. He's been so worried about you that he's been asking about you and hasn't exited this place even once since he came here with you."

 

Taiga's breathing quickens. "But I never wanted him to find out like this," he says.

 

"I know. But Hokuto just wants you to be okay. He's not thinking about anything else right now."

 

"I don't know how to face him," Taiga says quietly. "I don't know how to explain this to him."

 

"Don't think about it now. Just sleep," Juri says to him.

 

Yet, Taiga can't sleep. When he rests his head against the pillow and closes his eyes, the thought doesn't leave him.  

 

He's ruined everything.

 

*****

 

The door of the hospital room creaks open. A familiar figure stands by the doorway, framed by the white of the hallway beyond. Hokuto's face is masked with worry. He looks hesitant, stepping inside with careful steps.

 

"Hey," he says. "How are you feeling?"

 

Taiga tries to sit up, wincing as the effort sends a sharp pain through his chest. He ends up half-sitting, half lying on the bed.

 

"I've been better," he admits.

 

Hokuto walks to the side of the bed, pulls a chair close, and sits down. There are dark circles under his eyes as he looks at Taiga.

 

"I was so worried," he finally says.

 

Taiga feels embarrassed. "I'm sorry you had to see me like that. I didn't want you to know."

 

"Are you really sick because of me?" Hokuto asks straight.

 

Taiga's heart pounds in his chest uncomfortably, fear creeping up his spine. He knows they've come too far to start lying now. There have been enough unspoken things between them, so he shouldn't bring lies to make it even messier. 

 

"Yes," Taiga finally admits. "It's because of you. I didn't want you to worry, to carry that burden. But I can't lie to you anymore, Hokuto. I'm so sorry."

 

He searches Hokuto's face for a reaction but the look on his face remains impassive. He's afraid that Hokuto will start accusing him of keeping it to himself. But Hokuto doesn't. Instead, he suddenly smiles.  

 

"That's actually... good news."    

 

"Huh?"

 

And then, Hokuto reaches into his pocket and pulls out something small and black. He unfolds his palm, revealing a delicate black flower petal resting there.

 

Taiga's eyes widen in shock.

 

"What's that-" Taiga starts.

 

"It's called a lenten rose," Hokuto says calmly. "And it came out of me. Earlier today, I coughed it out."

 

Taiga's mind races as he tries to comprehend what he's witnessing. He watches Hokuto holding the small black petal delicately in his hand, turning it between his fingers as if studying it.

 

"Hokuto, you have this disease too?"

 

Hokuto nods slowly, his expression calm. "Yes. I've had it for a while now."

 

"But I thought..." Taiga trails off. He struggles to reconcile the image of Hokuto, always so composed and now sitting before him, with the same symptoms he himself has been battling.

 

Hokuto sighs softly, meeting Taiga's eyes with a faint smile. "It's different for everyone," he explains gently. "For me, the symptoms have been manageable until recently. Yet, this," he gestures to the petal in his hand, "is a sign that the flower inside me has already begun to wither."

 

Taiga furrows his brow in confusion. "Wither? What do you mean?"

 

"Hanahaki disease doesn't always end in death," Hokuto says. "Sometimes, when the feelings are finally acknowledged and accepted, the flower starts to heal. You've also heard about it, right? And once believing it oneself, it's possible to heal completely. It's a slow process, but it's happening."

 

"You mean, this is a sign that you're healing?"

 

Hokuto nods again. "Yes. It's strange, isn't it? When I found out about your condition, I was so scared. But it also made me realize something important."

 

Taiga listens intently, hanging on every word Hokuto says.

 

"It proved to me," Hokuto continues gently, "that your feelings for me are genuine. Despite everything, you've loved me so much that you've suffered like this."

 

He watches out of the window and hums to himself. He's not done yet and he keeps going on after that small pause.  

 

"As much as you didn't want me to know about your disease, I didn't want you to know about mine. I never wanted you to know. They kept saying that if I took the distance, the disease might slow down, even get into remission completely. I actually got the first symptoms about two years ago, back when we were working together in that theater production. It started with just a few coughs, nothing serious at first. But over time, it became more frequent and more evident. Until I got the diagnosis. At first, I didn't want to believe it and considered telling you. But when you distanced yourself from me, and we stopped keeping in touch, the whole disease actually fell into remission."

 

Taiga's heart sinks as he realizes the extent to which Hokuto must have struggled silently, just like him.

 

"I thought I could live like that. But in the end, I couldn't stay away from you," Hokuto admits with a rueful smile. "When I was filming with Mone, she told me about the musical and your name popped up, and something just clicked in me. I asked them to find a way to cast me. I couldn't even admit to myself how much I wanted to see you again, how much I needed to see you again. I thought I could do it. At first, I did, managing it well enough to keep the disease in remission. But it didn't work out in the way I was hoping it to. On the morning of our last performance, it worsened again, and I realized I needed to distance myself from you again. I wanted you to be angry at me, to leave me, so that I wouldn't need to bring you the burden. Because believe it or not, you're a good person who would have liked to save me and sacrifice yourself for me, and I simply couldn't do that to you."

 

Taiga's mind reels with disbelief. "Hokuto, what are you trying to tell me?"

 

"It's because of you, Kyomoto Taiga. You've been my reason all along. I love you and I've always loved you."

 

Hokuto looks down at the petal in his hand. A small smile appears on his lips. "The following weeks are going to be interesting," he says jokingly. "I might have some explanation to do at the movie set."

 

Taiga can't take it. He buries his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking.

 

"Oh no, are you... are you crying?" Hokuto asks him worriedly.



But then, Taiga lifts his head, tears streaking down his cheeks, but his bright laughter rings out in the room.

 

He reaches out, gently cupping Hokuto's cheek in his hand. "Hokuto," he murmurs. "I love you too."

 

"Taiga," Hokuto says, whispering his first name for the first time with a tenderness that takes Taiga's breath away. 

 

"I've been drowning in my bitterness and anger for so long," Taiga says. "I shut myself off from everyone and refused to let anyone else in. But I'm tired of that. I want to change, slowly but surely. I want to learn to love myself again."

 

Hokuto listens, bringing his hand to Taiga's, squeezing it gently. "Is that what you want?" he asks.

 

"Yes," Taiga affirms and he knows it's not a lie. "That's what I want. For once, I'm certain of it. And... there's something else I want too. I want to be with you, Hokuto. I want to build a real relationship with you, one where we learn to talk, to understand each other. I know it won't be easy, but the way I feel about you is too strong. I don't want to lose you ever again."

 

"Taiga," Hokuto murmurs again.

 

 "And..." Taiga continues. "I want you to kiss me."

 

Then Hokuto leans forward, pressing his lips to Taiga's.

 

Taiga licks his lips, catching Hokuto's taste on them. After pulling out, he leans his forehead against Hokuto's. Then Hokuto wraps his arms around him and Taiga hugs him back so tight he's sure he's going to crush Hokuto's bones soon.

 

"I can't believe this," Taiga mutters against Hokuto's neck. "I can't believe we might actually have another chance. The third chance." The last chance. He surely wants to keep it as last.

 

Hokuto laughs, bright and loud. It must be Taiga's favorite sound in the whole world.

 

Then Taiga coughs softly, a gentle clearing of his throat that feels strangely relieving. Then, as he brings his hand to his mouth to cover it, he's not surprised to see a cherry blossom flower petal eventually resting on his hand. But unlike how the petals have been in past weeks, this one is all pink, untouched by any sign of blood.

 

Taiga stares at the petal. He understands immediately. It's a sign, just like Hokuto's lenten rose, that his own disease, too, might be starting to heal.

 

Taiga lifts his gaze to Hokuto. "Look," he whispers.

 

Hokuto leans closer, his eyes widening a little bit as he sees the cherry blossom petal in Taiga's hand. His breath catches.

 

"It's beautiful," Hokuto says simply. And Taiga can't deny it. For the first time, the flower coming out of him looks beautiful.

 

"I think I'm going to be okay. Just like you," Taiga says.

 

Hokuto reaches out, gently touching Taiga's hand where the cherry blossom petal rests.

 

"Yes, we're going to be okay," he replies.

 

"Hokuto," Taiga says. "I'm done with not facing things. I know I have to accept myself, with all the regrets and painful history we might have. But we can look forward together, right?"

 

Hokuto's eyes soften with understanding, maybe with some pride. "Yes," he said softly. "And we'll manage together. Whatever comes our way, we'll be fine."

 

Taiga hugs him again and soothes Hokuto's hair.

 

"I can't believe this, I'm so happy," he says before whispering one more thing. "Thank you, Hokuto."

 

Hokuto smiled warmly, brushing a hair strand behind Taiga's ear. "You should thank yourself. You did this," he says. "You found the strength within yourself."

 

Maybe, indeed, when Taiga was waiting for a miracle, the miracle was closer than he would have expected. The miracle was right there all the time. It was himself.

 

*****

 

1 year later

 

It's a crisp November afternoon when Taiga returns home after a successful matinee performance at the Imperial Theater. He's still buzzing with excitement from the thrill of the audience's applause and the fulfillment of acting on such a prestigious stage. It used to be a lifelong dream, and now he's living it.

 

As he steps into the apartment, he finds Hokuto sitting on the couch, absorbed in a script for his latest film role.

 

Hokuto glances up, a warm smile spreading across his face at the sight of Taiga.

 

"Hey," he greets warmly, setting the script aside. "How was your day?"

 

"Exhausting," Taiga admits with a sigh, crossing the room to join Hokuto on the couch. "But seeing the audience's reaction tonight made it all worth it."

 

Hokuto nods, reaching out to smooth Taiga's hair. "You probably were amazing, as always," he says sincerely.

 

"Thank you," Taiga replies softly, bringing his hand to Hokuto's and intertwining his fingers with his. "And how was your day on set?"

 

"It was good, but it's even better now that I'm with you."

 

Taiga smiles at that. He leans in, closing the gap between them with a soft kiss. 

 

"Oh, guess who I bumped into today," Taiga says after they pull apart. "Kochi Yugo! Turns out he's still with that tall hanahaki guy and apparently his name is Jesse!"

 

Hokuto chuckles softly. "Really? They're still together?"

 

"Yeah, and apparently very much in love," Taiga continues, shaking his head with mock disbelief and chuckling as well. "I always thought no one could be as disgusting as Juri and Shintaro are together, but I guess I was wrong."

 

Hokuto raises an eyebrow playfully. "Aren't we kind of disgusting as well?" he teases.

 

"Hmmm, maybe," Taiga finally concedes with a grin, unable to hold back a smirk.

 

Hokuto kisses his cheek.

 

"By the way," Taiga says. "I have something for you."

 

"Oh? What is it?"

 

"Remember those old song notes I found while we were moving in? I've been working on the lyrics."

 

Hokuto looks at him. "You mean-?"

 

"Yeah, I've been playing again. Whenever I find the time. Anyway, I wrote new lyrics to go with that song."

 

Hokuto's smile grows wider, his eyes shining with affection and pride. "That sounds great! Really."

 

"You want to hear it right now?"


"Of course!"

 

Taiga goes to the office room to get his guitar. He settles himself on the carpet, adjusting the guitar in his lap. He takes a moment to gather himself, then begins to strum a soft melody, fingers moving over the strings.

 

As he sings, his voice is tender and heartfelt. The lyrics tell a painful story of love, struggles, pain, and eventual solace and strength that one finds within oneself.

 

Hokuto listens to the whole song silently. He concentrates on every note and word, clearly not wanting to miss a second. He follows Taiga's every movement closely and doesn't move an inch in his seat.

 

When Taiga finishes, he looks up at Hokuto expectedly.

 

Hokuto's radiant smile suggests he's overwhelmed with joy. He brings his hands to his cheeks, almost as if they're hurting from smiling so much.

 

"That was amazing," he manages to say.

 

Taiga's cheeks color faintly at the praise. "I'm glad you liked it."

 

"I loved it."

 

Hokuto rises from the couch and crosses the room in a few quick strides. He kneels beside Taiga, wrapping his arms around him in a tight embrace.

 

"But not more than I love you, Kyomoto Taiga," he whispers into Taiga's ear.

 

Taiga leans into the embrace, feeling Hokuto's warmth.

 

"I love you too, Matsumura Hokuto." 

 

The flowers inside them withered a long time ago. Now, it's their love that is blossoming in the most beautiful way.

 



Your heart's running wild


Oh, you don't have to hide it


My eyes are open wide


You can show me the sky if you wanna


Oh


what we are,


It doesn't matter


Oh


what we are,


It doesn't matter


As long as you're here

Afterword

End Notes

Thank you for reading and coming this far. Comments & kudos always make me smile! ♥

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