The initial shock from seeing the first flower petal fall fades as Coiny washes his hands in the sink. The soap suds are soft like feathers between his fingers. He softly hums while rinsing them off, wondering what he'll make for breakfast.
Probably some dirt pancakes. He still needs to tweak the recipe a little, maybe add some cinnamon for extra flavor. Coiny briefly reminisces about the blueberry pancakes Pin used to cook for the team every so often. The mornings when he woke up to the smell of maple syrup and butter were the best; that feeling was almost like home to him. When the expected cough comes, he doesn't bother to cover his mouth.
Finally, he dries his hands off with a small towel and leaves the bathroom. His stomach whines, and even though objects can last 1,338 days without eating, Coiny has never gone longer than two. He loves food too much to desert it for that long.
He's stockpiled dirt for moments of hunger like these. As nice as it was of Two to prepare a room just for Coiny, he finds it strange how they taped a lot of his furniture to the ceiling-even his fridge and pantry are upside down. Only his bed, his oven, and his pile of dirt are on the floor.
Normally, Coiny has no problem getting things to the ground. His tool of choice is a plastic pole with a hook at the end-he can easily latch onto handles and pull open doors.
This morning, though, he barely has the energy to cook, let alone stand up. So, instead of making a nice, buttery dirt pancake like he wanted, he'll just have a fistful of dirt instead.
Coiny staggers over to the dirt pile and then scoops some into his mouth. Maybe it's not the most nutritious option, but it's not like he can reach the bananas in his fridge. Not with the little strength he has.
Coiny consumes the dirt with a bit of difficulty. He's grateful that at least there's something in his stomach. With sore legs, he limps to his bed and wraps himself in his blankets, trying to warm himself up.
He doesn't even have time to think before a harsh cough rips out of him, drawing a flower from his lips and sending him reeling. It's dead, and it's rotten. Mint, it was inside of him, and that's why it's coated in blood.
Fear grips his heart. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before. This flower confirms his initial thoughts-there is a plant growing inside him, like a parasite.
He didn't... eat any seeds, did he? Coiny considers what's weakening him the most.
Is this because of his unrequited love for-cough-Pin? He thinks of her again, like before. As predicted, he suddenly convulses, his throat forcing out the sickening remains of another flower petal. He shivers in terror.
How far can this disease go? Is there even a cure? Coiny laughs through the bloody coughs. How morbid it is that he has no chance with Pin anymore, yet his lungs are blooming with a garden just for her.
And it might just kill him off forever.
He clutches his head with both hands and curls up in the blankets, smile fading.
He won't be seeing his friends for months, maybe even years. "Please don't forget about me," Coiny thinks, swallowing everything down. The thought that his friends will get caught up in the competition and eventually stop thinking about him is devastating.
"Coiny, don't be so unrealistic. Your friends love you, and they wouldn't forget about you." More petals press at his throat, threatening to soar out of his lungs and into the air. The cold is surrounding him, and it's like he's the only person left in the world. "I don't want to die!"
For the first time in too long, Coiny cries.
He cries until he's totally drained. He cries until his eyes cloud. He cries until his tears stain his sheets. "I don't want to die!" his brain repeats. Red flower petals finally spring from his throat, gracefully fluttering around him, and Coiny thinks it's really the end now.
Not a temporary end, one that a recovery center can reverse, but a permanent one. Or maybe he'll suffer like this across all his lifetimes, left to suffocate or bleed out over and over.
The possibilities scream in Coiny's mind. He's scared. He's so scared and confused.
There's a faint knock on the door to his room.
"Hey. It's Nickel. Are... you okay in there?"
YOU ARE READING
A Garden Just for Her || A Coinpin Hanahaki Fic
ФанфикWhen Coiny coughs up his first petal for her, he's resigned to what he knows his fate will be: death. After all, how could she ever feel the same? It's a race against time as both Coiny and Pin's conditions worsen. Will they confess before it's too...