A Gladiolus Heart

Chapter 3

It took a while but this chapter is pretty much longer than the previous ones. It's also more heavy since we're nearing the end. Please enjoy reading!

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A few weeks have passed since that emotionally exhausting yet liberating night of revelation with Hiroto. True to his promise, his friend kept his mouth shut about his secret and is constantly at his rescue in times of need. Be it making excuses for him or helping him hide the mess in his room, or anywhere he might accidentally cough out.

Although a few members—in fact most, much to Fubuki's worry—had been suspicious of them, especially the perceptive ones like Kidou, Gouenji and Kazemaru. And if it hadn't been for Hiroto backing him up every time, Fubuki wouldn't be able to escape their worried questions and attentive gazes.

Even so, there's only so little that they can do with their repeated excuses about Fubuki's sickness. It's been weeks so people have truly been concerned about him and have considered sending him to the hospital. He tried his best to avoid it though. Getting check-ups would risk his secret if he was to be observed by the professional eye.

It has become a routine these days for Coach Kudou to bench him because he said that he was too pale or that he looked like he was going to collapse any time. After that, he would be scolded for not taking care of his health and was warned of the training he was going to catch up with once he gets better—if he gets better.

No, Fubuki thought with determination, quickly erasing the doubt. I will get better. I worked hard to be here. I can't let some flowers hold me down.

But as if the flowers were trying to mock him, he felt the familiar feeling rising up his esophagus. Fubuki brought a hand up over his lips and cleared his throat, instantly catching Hiroto's attention. Over the weeks, the redhead had learned to take that as a cue from Fubuki whenever the forward-defender was on the verge of puking.

"I think I forgot my phone in my room, " Hiroto suddenly stated in the middle of the discussion he currently had with Kidou, before turning to the quiet Fubuki with a trained smile. "Can you get it for me, Fubuki-kun?"

Grateful for the escape, Fubuki nodded wordlessly and offered him a small smile. He immediately left the area, pointedly ignoring the questioning look Kidou sent his way. If Kidou noticed the form of the phone that was clearly bulging in Hiroto's pocket, he decided not to mention it and only returned to the topic they had been discussing.

Fubuki knows that they're suspicious and he knows that the lies he and Hiroto are fabricating were only thinly veiling his secret. But he'd take any way, twist any truth and create as many lies as he could to keep his secret hidden for much longer. He was thankful that Kidou wasn't as confrontational with him as he was with the others in Raimon or with Fudou. He was also thankful that the rest of the team opted not to voice out their suspicions, even though it was clear in their faces that they knew something was up.

But this was also what Fubuki feared. The shift of the mood whenever they saw him and the fact that it had affected most of the members. He was worrying them. If their performance was affected by this, which it hadn't been yet and Fubuki hopes it won't ever, then he might not forgive himself for dragging the team down. He failed them once, he wouldn't want to do it again.

But he knew that one day they would tire of this and they'd push him into a corner, making him spill the truth. The very thought of it had Fubuki closing the door to his room louder than he had intended. Once inside, he reached for the paper bags beneath his bed that Hiroto had bought for him.

Orange petals that were nearly red piled into that bag as Fubuki poured it all out. He let his head lean on the corner of his bed, waiting until the petals stopped coming out which would probably be in another minute or two. He was slowly starting to get used to the feeling—which scared Fubuki. He didn't want to get used to this.

He couldn't imagine living life forever hiding like this. To be in this weakened and fragile state for a long time. He feared the thought of it. He wanted to be someone strong enough to run with the team. He no longer wanted to sit at the bench with a towel over his head and a trembling on his feet.

He wanted to be with everyone. Playing on the field and not worrying about anything else but winning. He wanted to carry their burdens with them, not become a source of it. He wanted to stand on equal footing with everyone. To become a worthy member of Inazuma Japan and to fulfil his childhood dream. He wanted to shake the big world off its feet and not be the one shaken down by something as small as a fragile flower.

This disease and his unrequited feelings were a nuisance and he hated that he was slowly getting accustomed to it. But he hated even more the thought that he knew how to fix this quickly but refused to because he didn't want to let go of his feelings.

He didn't want to let go of Gouenji just yet. This piece of fondness towards the flame striker. This fondness that came from the gratefulness, from the admiration, from the love he felt for the forward who was his beacon of light in the darkness.

If he were to lose these feelings, he would lose everything that came with it. And the very thought of looking at Gouenji, at the one who made his heart beat and his cheeks heat up, and to suddenly feel nothing. To suddenly be emptied out of all things that came with loving the flame striker. The very thought of it alone agonizes him more than the physical pain he was feeling right now.

This was cruel. Way too cruel. Wasn't it enough that his feelings were forever unreciprocated? Why must he suffer with everything else as a consequence for loving someone he couldn't have? Sometimes Fubuki wondered if he had done something cruel in his past life. He must have done something to deserve this.

Fubuki wallowed in self-pity and before long, as if the gods have suddenly pitied him, the petals stopped coming out and the pain in his chest slowly numbed. His head still felt fuzzy and he could feel a tingling sensation all the way to his fingertips that were cold and numb.

His throat was parched and was practically begging for water. But even if he wanted to, he barely had any energy to stand up after his physically and emotionally painful predicament. Nevertheless, Fubuki pushed himself up with great effort.

With wobbly and unstable legs, he got himself to stand on his feet and had to close his eyes for a moment when he saw the room swirl in his vision. He was slowly starting to see stars and if he wasn't in so much pain, he would laugh at his own illusions. But this wasn't an illusion, this pain was real and this pain was the bane of Fubuki's life.

He blindly reached out for his bed post and used it to guide himself to his bed. He leaned his temple on the headboard and took a few deep breaths. Eventually, the pain slowly subsided and he finally allowed himself to open his eyes.

His vision was still a bit hazy but it was slowly normalizing. He turned to the paper bag in his hands and slowly folded the opening to not let anything spill. He then placed it beneath his bedside table, knowing that Hiroto would take it out for him if he couldn't.

His throat was still dry but Fubuki decided against getting water by now. If he goes to the kitchen to get water, that would mean passing the common room where most were lounging at and Fubuki didn't want to face their concerned gazes.

Maybe, Fubuki thought groggily as he was slowly drifting to sleep, I should keep my own tumbler of water here in case.

He probably had that thought a hundred times by now yet always forgot to act on it the next morning. He was too tired to even think and no amount of sleep could help him regain the strength he used to have.

And soon enough, Fubuki Shirou drifted into a painless and dreamless sleep. His mind was too tired to even torment him in his dreams and Fubuki was just glad that he could have a break from all things that hurt.

But eventually, he'd still have to wake up and face the painful mornings when he, as most days, would once again puke into the paper bags he kept near his bed.

He gave it a minute before the onslaught of petals seized. Breathing in and out, he was thankful that this morning was brief and merciful as it could be. He noticed the paper bags last night were no longer on his bedside table and Fubuki knew it was thanks to Hiroto.

A knock from his door surprised Fubuki and he felt himself become nervous. If it was Hiroto, he wouldn't knock and would just enter since Fubuki gave him a copy of his room key. The knocking must mean that it was either the managers or his teammates.

No, Fubuki had a second thought, the managers have spare keys as well and they've been carrying it around since that last timel. It must be ­­­someone from the team.

"Fubuki?" He recognized this voice belonging to his jovial Captain, Endou Mamoru. Except his voice wasn't as cheery as it usually was. It was somber and quiet and that sound made Fubuki's anxiousness grow. He took a few breaths before he got himself to stand.

Opening the door, he mustered a soft smile towards his captain, hoping it would convince him. Convince him what? Fubuki doesn't know. All that he knows is that he wants everyone to think that he is alright. But the expression Endou made had Fubuki wonder how tired his face must have looked right now.

"Good morning, Captain!" Fubuki soldiered on with his facade, pulling his smile wider and his eyes closing to appear more joyful. "How may I help you?"

Alright, maybe being too polite was being too suspicious. He was usually so casual with Endou and he was hoping that the other boy won't notice his pretense. And if he did, he chose not to react to it.

Endou gave him one of his famous wide grins, albeit it seemed a little strained. The Captain reached for his shoulder as he usually would, except for the fact that it was placed more carefully as if he was afraid to break Fubuki. The delicate treatment left a bitter taste on Fubuki's tongue but he decided to swallow the feeling down. He was not fragile.

"I asked the Coach to allow you to accompany us to our morning jog. It's been weeks without you and we're starting to miss you." Endou said hopefully, before he added in a softer, hesitant voice, "Don't worry. If you're still not feeling well, we can run at a slower pace or do something less tiring."

"No, " Fubuki replied, pride bruised by those words and slowly drowning out the caution in his mind. " Let's do the usual. I'm fine now. I can still keep up with everyone."

"But Fubuki—" Endou's eyes widened and he looked like he regretted his words for a moment but that only made Fubuki feel worse. To be the cause of worry to his carefree Captain was a shame.

"I'm fine." Fubuki spoke louder and harsher than he intended. Realizing his mistake upon seeing the startled expression on Endou's face, he took a deep breath and schooled a small, apologetic smile. With a softer voice he added, "I'm fine, Captain. Just give me a few moments to change and I'll be downstairs with all of you."

"Oh, " Endou whispered before he snapped out of his shock and gave him another pat on the shoulder, this time making Fubuki smile at the usual strength that came with it. He offered him another grin and a thumbs up as he said, "We'll be waiting for you then! Don't be later than 10 minutes or you'll be given extra laps!"

"You should tell that to Gouenji-kun, not me." Fubuki replied with humor, smile fond nevertheless. "He's the one that always runs with extra laps."

"Well you lose because Gouenji woke up earlier than you today!" Endou grinned back at him, "in fact, he was the one who suggested to me that we do this."

Fubuki blinked at that new information, his heart fluttering at the thought that the flame striker wanted him to join them, "Gouenji-kun did?"

"Yup! He said and I quote:" Endou grinned widely before he cleared his throat and lowered his voice at an attempt to imitate Gouenji, "Endou, we should invite Fubuki with us in our morning jog. He's still part of the team. I'm sure he would be happy to join us."

Fubuki blinked at those words, letting them sink in before a soft smile graced his lips. He felt a gentle warmth spread on his chest, gradually replacing the pain that was previously there. Gouenji always knew how to render Fubuki speechless and leave him feeling all mushy.

"I'll be down in a few, Captain." Fubuki said, smile still on his face. After hearing those words, gone were his bruised ego and all that was left was the excitement of finally jogging with everyone. And so he told Endou, "I miss being with everyone too."

"Well, what are we waiting for then?" Endou grinned before he waved at Fubuki, "hurry up and change! We'll be at the field waiting for you! Sick or not, you'll get those extra laps if you're late!"

"You wish!" Fubuki laughed as he waved goodbye to Endou. When the captain finally jogged along the hallway, Fubuki closed his door and started changing for the day.

In his excitement, he finished in less than two minutes and was immediately out the door with the intention to race himself towards the field. However, Hiroto seemed to have a different plan in mind.

"Fubuki-kun, what are you doing?" Hiroto gestured to the forward-defender wearing his jersey and said, " you know you can't do this. It's gonna risk your secret. What if you cough up in front of everyone?"

"I won't. " Fubuki replied with a confident smile. "My chest feels lighter than usual and I'm feeling great today."

"You mean you feel great right at this moment but that doesn't mean you'll feel the same later. You know how open the field is and if you feel like coughing, there's so much distance between there and the nearest place to hide." Hiroto said, worry evident on his tone and expression, "I mean as much as I want to tell everyone about your pain, I'm sure you don't want them to know and I don't want you to become uncomfortable."

"I know." Fubuki sighed, feeling guilty for causing so much burden to his close friend. But then just imagining the feel of the wind as he runs, being surrounded by his teammates as they jog and the thought of Gouenji making this happen just brought so much joy in Fubuki that he felt that nothing would go wrong. "I'll be fine."

"Fubuki-kun—" Hiroto halted in his words when he saw the expression on Fubuki's face. It was a mix of anticipation—as if he had all that he was waiting for beyond the hall that Hiroto was blocking— and something Hiroto recognized as the look of someone who has been told something they always wanted to hear.

Fubuki wanted this. Hiroto can clearly see it. And despite all the warning signs, all the things that could possibly go wrong, he suddenly couldn't find it in himself to take his happiness away. But still, the worry lingered.

"Gouenji-kun arranged this." Fubuki said. His eyes were glistening and Hiroto finally realized what that look entailed. "He convinced Captain to invite me and I don't want to reject their invitation. I want to be with everyone. I don't want to be left behind."

I don't want to be alone.

Those words didn't need to be said but Hiroto could hear it loud and clear. So he decided to let the worry go and gave Fubuki his smile, "very well, Fubuki-kun. But just making sure you know that if ever you feel anything wrong, you'll stop and signal me. We'll make do somehow."

"Thank you, Hiroto-kun." Fubuki smiled back at him before patting his shoulder and running down the hall with a big smile on his face, "Race you to the field! Last person to arrive gets to give their dessert to the winner!"

"Hey, no fair!" Hiroto laughed heartedly as he chased after the faster Fubuki, who was like the wind itself. "You're clearly the fast runner and you had a head start!"

"I'm sick and barely ran for weeks so that makes it even." Fubuki laughed, running down the stairs.

"Doesn't make any difference." Hiroto replied, worry disseminating every second he heard of his friend's laughter.

Soon enough, they were already at the field where everyone else was waiting. As predicted, there were several that were, like Hiroto, worried and hesitant about Fubuki joining them again. The stretches were at a snail's pace as if they wanted to give Fubuki time to adjust. Even as they jogged, most of the members even slowed their pace, hoping to help Fubuki.

Rather than damaging his ego like it did earlier, Fubuki decided to take it in a positive light. His members cared for him in their own ways. It might not be the way that he wanted but he appreciated their sentiments anyway. However, he smirked, he was going to prove to them that Fubuki Shirou, sick or not, is never someone you should underestimate.

At their last lap, Fubuki sped up and slipped in between Kazemaru and Endou who jogged in front of him. This caused many surprise to his teammates and Kazemaru told him to not push himself. But before Fubuki could tell him he was alright, Gouenji suddenly sped up to match Fubuki's pace.

The flame striker smirked at his way, causing Fubuki to blush a bit before he reciprocated the smile. Understanding the challenge, Fubuki quickened his pace and suddenly it became a race between the two strikers.

The worries of the others soon drowned out and everyone was racing rather than jogging on their last lap. He could hear laughter from behind when Sakuma had apparently tripped and yelled at Fudou who he blamed was responsible for it. Kogure's laughter made Fubuki doubt that though.

Soon enough, Kazemaru was right beside him with a challenging smile. "Let's see if you can still keep up, Fubuki."

"I'm sure he can." Gouenji encouraged behind him, panting as he ran. He may have held the crown and scepter when it came to strength and stamina but when it came to speed, the throne equally belonged to Kazemaru and Fubuki.

A surge of energy burst through at those words and Fubuki ran faster to meet Kazemaru's challenge. The two of them raced against each other, neck to neck however, Kazemaru ended up winning by an inch.

As soon as they stopped, Fubuki was catching his breath, his legs aching and no longer used after weeks of inactivity. However, Fubuki loved this feeling. Soon enough, he raised his head and met Kazemaru's gaze who was smiling at him.

"I guess we were worried for nothing." The defender said, "I'm sure we would have tied or you probably would have won if you hadn't been sick. You really are amazing, Fubuki."

"Kazemaru-kun too." Fubuki smiled back still panting, "Congratulations on winning. I'll get you next time."

"Fubuki, " he hear Gouenji's voice as the flame striker approached him. He offered him a drink to which Fubuki graciously accepted. "It's good seeing you here again."

"It's good to be here again too." Fubuki replied with a smile before saying, "Thank you, Gouenji-kun. If it hadn't been for you, this wouldn't have happened."

"It's not me." Gouenji smiled, "it was your decision to come here. I only gave you a little push. Besides, it would be better if you sweat out rather than always staying inside."

"You're right." The forward-defender said. His chest felt light and there was no telltale sign of his disease about to come out. He was feeling great today. Maybe he could actually play with them on the field today.

Maybe he could play with Gouenji again.

Maybe he thought too fast.

One moment he was smiling with Gouenji, warmth spreading inside him like a comfortable blanket. The next moment, Toramaru was running towards the flame striker for a chat and Fubuki felt the bitter jealousy splash on him like a cold water. Wet blankets wrapped around you never did sound good. In fact it was uncomfortable, much like the feeling that was growing fast in his chest.

And as it grew, panic rose along with it. Bringing a hand up his mouth, he searched for Hiroto in the crowd only to find him talking with Endou and Kidou at a distance.

Breathing suddenly became hard and he was uncertain if it was because he pushed himself too hard with that race or because of the onslaught of petals rising up his throat. Either way, Fubuki was rushing his way out of the field, failing to see the alarmed and worried look Gouenji sent him.

He ignored the flame striker's call and the voices of the others that followed as he ran away from them, hoping that he was faster than the pain that rose. However, speed wasn't the problem for in his haste, he failed to notice Fuyuka on his way and that small mistake caused him to crash against her and lose balance.

It all happened too quickly. His hand left his lips as he reached out to save their manager from falling by instinct. And as flashes of regret crossed his mind, he could barely register the horrified look on Fuyuka's face when Fubuki fell to the ground that was soon littered with orange petals.

His secret was laid open, bare on the field for everyone to see. And as much as Fubuki wanted to assure them, he could hardly speak a word as the petals continued to flow and the agony grew by the second. He faintly noticed how he was soon crowded by the members who were ranging from worried yells to horrified whispers and questions.

The world around Fubuki was shaking and slowly crumbling. He felt pain and pain and pain until it seized and all that was left was the realization and shame. Shame. Shame. Shame on him.

All the petals on the ground. Shame. Fuyuka's horrified gaze. Shame. The echoes of worries around him that he wanted to block out but he couldn't even move his hands to cover his ears. Shame. He couldn't even raise his head to face them. Shame. All he wanted was for the ground to open up and swallow him whole so that he wouldn't have to deal with the shame that formed inside and the guilt that accompanied it among many others.

He felt like he was in a different time bubble and everyone around him were in slow motion, their words barely recognizable. Until one warm hand was placed on his shoulder and he looked up by instinct. He found himself gazing up to familiar dark eyes.

Eyes that shone with concern, and questions. So many questions. And those were Gouenji's eyes. Dark eyes that gazed at him that stormy night from months ago. The same dark eyes that gazed at him in this chaotic moment. Without thinking, Fubuki bought a hand up to clutch the striker's arm. Silently begging for help and as if Gouenji heard and understood him, he turned to the others and said, "Give him space. He needs to breathe."

The flame striker's voice was deep but urgent. It was like a knife that cut through the panic and chaos and effectively silencing the rest of the team. The hand on Fubuki's shoulder was lifted off and the forward-defender felt himself panic at the loss of it. However, he was soon enveloped in a warm hug, strong and protective.

Eventually Fubuki succumbed to that embrace and comfort in this midst of chaos. He brought his hands up to grip the flame striker's shirt and buried his head—to hide away the shame— on the other's torso. The action made Gouenji wrap his arms around him tighter and pulled him closer.

Everything was tranquil in that embrace. His erratic breathing slowly started to ease. His rapidly beating heart started to normalize. The throbbing in his head quieted down. The ringing in his ears stopped. The pain in his chest was washed over by the warmth that wrapped around him like a blanket. Soon enough, Fubuki's grip loosened and he relied all his weight on Gouenji.

In a moment of weakness, Fubuki let go of all pretense and let the dam break. A few tears escaped his eyes and were immediately absorbed by Gouenji's shirt. If it was in another situation, Fubuki would have been mortified and apologizing for ruining the other's shirt. But his secret had been laid bare and his emotions were overriding his thinking. All he wanted was to cry and hide away from the rest of the world.

And just be stuck in the position he was currently in. Right here, basking in Gouenji's warmth. For a moment, he could trick himself that this was something else. That he was in this embrace for a different reason. That this embrace could be due to a moment of love and not because the flame striker only pitied him.

However, all things must come to an end. The crowd eventually cleared up and he felt a shadow looming over the two of them—over him. And when that shadow—Coach Kudou­—finally spoke, Fubuki's moment of solace was broken in an instant.

"Fubuki Shirou, " his voice was deep and hard. Fubuki knew that he was most likely disappointed in him, "I want you in the caravan right now."

"But I'm— " Fubuki pulled away from the embrace to reason out. However as soon as his eyes met with the Coach's dark ones. He immediately shut his mouth and looked away.

"I won't take any of your excuses." The Coach said with a finality in his voice, "I will send you to the hospital whether you like it or not. I will not have a member dying in my watch."

The mention of death seemed to wash fear over everyone else. Fubuki and yes, even Gouenji included. The flame striker tightened his grip on Fubuki but the forward-defender couldn't find the courage in him to look up. He simply lowered his head, separated from the warm embrace and attempted to stand on his own. With difficulty and stubbornness, he left the team's worried gazes and headed away on his own.

It all came too fast after that. One moment he was in Gouenji's embrace, the next thing he knew, he was already sitting in the caravan and being driven to the hospital. His body felt cold, whether it was due to the Hanahaki disease or his fear, he did not know. Perhaps it was both.

Soon enough, he was at the hospital. A few check ups were done and Fubuki simply blocked everything out. Fubuki felt like a nervous wreck and it made his condition worse. He was eventually leaving petals at almost every place they passed. The hallways, the emergency room and the x-ray room. He coughed so much that the doctors and nurses rushed to his aid and rushed the process of his hospital admission.

The need to do surgery was becoming a necessity by now because he was apparently at a dangerous stage of the disease. The x-ray had shown that the flower has already fully occupied his chest and had extended to his lungs. If left alone, Fubuki might end up being unable to breath one day and just die.

Even so, it was by right of the law that the final say belonged to Fubuki. Coach Kudou may have been his guardian right now, but this was Fubuki's body. Critical or not, it's up to Fubuki whether he wanted the flowers removed or not. Whether he wanted to live with emptiness or die with his feelings.