These Fucking Roses [KiriBaku] {Completed}

Red Flower Petals

I'm hunched over the fucking toilet, gasping for air. I look grimly down at the toilet bowl only to be met with the familiar sight I knew all to well.

Flower petals.

I've had this shit disease for a week now, but it wasn't ever as bad as it is this fucking fine morning.

The routine would go as follows:

Wake up - a few petals
Throughout school - a few petals
End of the day - a few petals

Not a whole bucket full.

Sure, the amount of petals would increase day by day, but there was a shit-ton—and I mean a shit-ton— of flower petals in the toilet bowl.

I flush the toilet, the masses of rose petals disappearing.

"Hey! Bakubro! You ready?!"

Fuck.

Before long I'm hunched over the toilet bowl again, desperately trying to gain air into my lungs.

They're clogged.

I grip the toilet tighter, trying hard to fill my lungs with air again. It's not working.

I pound my chest hard, trying to get the fucking petals out of my wind pipe. After I blast my chest, two single flower petals gently glide down to the water and nestle in with the rest of them.

I violently gasp for air, my throat feeling as if it were on fire.

"Bakugo! Hurry up!"

Ah shit.

"I'll come later. Tell Mr Aizawa I'm feeling like shit and I'll come later in the day." I weakly shout out, avoiding talking to that fucking perfect piece of shit.

"Uh. Okay! I hope you feel better soon!" I listen to the footsteps growing quieter and quieter, before I hear nothing. Only my hoarse and ragged breathing.

Also, if you haven't fucking noticed, I'm stuck with this shitty disease called Hanahaki.

A disease in which a person's undying love for another is unrequi—

No. No. No. none of that fucking bullshit. No thank you. No. Not happening. I look down at the floor, a red flower petal catching my eye.

The crimson colour reminding me of that idiot.

That perfect idiot.

His gorgeous red hair.

His glistening white teeth.

His dashing smile.

His blood red eyes.

His cheerful voice.

Hi—

I'm hunched over the toilet once more, hacking at my lungs again. I tightly shut my eyes as tears start to brim my eyes.

It hurts.

It hurts so fucking much. My lungs are throbbing as my throat feels like it's been ripped apart. I feel dizzy. I feel sick. My limbs feel weak. My mouth tastes like fucking metal—

Wait.

I peek at the toilet bowl to not only find it adorned in flowers, but also painted in blood.

I was coughing up fucking blood.

After sitting on the bathroom floor for 5 more minutes, trying to catch my breath, I stand on wobbly legs, trying to get ready.

I put my clothes on, with every limb in my body aching. I packed my bag. I went over to my bathroom to brush my teeth, so the disgusting taste of blood would go away. I was met with an awful sight.