Kokudou Oneshots

(A) Hanahaki part 1 + I'm Back

Yay! Im alive! Its felt like forever since I updated my stuff, I could write during that time, but it was really uncomfortable and sometimes painful, so I wasn't supposed to do it, thats why I only really replied to comments, if your wondering! Anyway, not the point, im back now, and I hope you enjoy your request!

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Douma coughed, blood dripping down his chin, staining the water pooling at his knees. He knew he was going to die. Not even demons were immune to Hanahaki disease. He dreamt on confessing to the man he loved here, by the river, not too far from his cult. He had always dreamt of bringing his beloved here. But it would never happen. Kokushibo didn't love him, and he sure wouldn't start loving him now. He felt more flowers start to clog his lungs, coughing more of the stupid flowers out.

Douma had tried everything to heal himself. Ripping his lungs out, destroying every flower he coughed up, everything. But deep down, he knew there were only 3 ways he could be free. Death. For Kokushibo to fall in love with him, or the surgical procedure that he could never bear to have.

Why did he always have the worst luck?

Hanahaki, out of all things. He couldn't have gotten wisteria poison, or being caught in the sun? No, he had to suffer the most painful, slow, heartbreaking deaths among humans and demons.

Douma moved a hand to his chest, his sharp nails grazing over the pale skin, making tiny cuts. He felt the need to rip out his lungs again, but he knew it would do him no good.

He felt the horrid metallic taste in his mouth as he threw up blood and those wretched flowers again. He felt a twinge of guilt for staining the crystal-clear waters of the lake, but there wasn't much else he could do. He couldn't let his followers know about it. That their precious leader, their immortal, godly, perfect leader was dying from such a ridiculous illness.

He kept coughing, more and more blood and whitish-pink flowers drifting down the river. Tears welled in his eyes as he watched them float away. He thought of Kokushibo, the man most would say was scary, but to Douma he was the most perfect and beautiful person to exist. He cried as more petals fell from his mouth.

"Kokushibo...."

Douma tried to stand, but he only collapsed, feeling the cold water of the stream hit his body and drench his clothes and hair.

Kokushibo gently picked Douma out of the river, sighing and brushing his hair out of his face.

"Douma... you should have told me..."

Kokushibo knew Douma's cult was nearby, so he carried Douma back to his cult. Quickly finding the bedroom labelled 'founder', Kokushibo laid Douma down on his bed, sitting near him and gently kissing his forehead before leaving the room. He would have left flowers, but he got the feeling Douma wasn't in the mood for those right now.

This is short, so I will probably do part 2. Hope you enjoyed it anyway!