Archive of Our Own

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“You don’t know? Noya-san caught it.” Tanaka said, lowering his water bottle. 

It was a hot summer day in Tokyo, the third day of summer camp. They’d been on a horrendous losing streak, but after a specific game against Nekoma, Nishinoya had excused himself to the bathroom. Karasuno’s side of court was nearer to the hallways that lead to the bathrooms, but even with the thick, older walls of Shinzen Academy, the ugly sounds of coughing and retching stood out to Shouyou’s ears. He had opted to go check up on him, but as he declared it, Tanaka held him back. ‘Leave him be’, he said.

“Caught what?” he asked, cocking his head to one side, confused. Tanaka seemed to tense up- he made a face before leaning towards Shouyou.

“The Hanahaki Disease.” He muttered, almost inaudibly. Shouyou’s eyes widened.

“Oh.” He stared dumbly at Nishinoya, who, at the moment, was emerging from the corner. For a fraction of a second, he could see the sickly look on his face, but then it quickly reverted to the usual, boisterous Nishinoya everyone’s familiar with. 

“How’s he dealing with it?” Shouyou said lowly. 

“He isn’t.” Tanaka answered bitterly, but then collected himself again, “He doesn’t know how to. He’s just hoping it goes away.”

He knew he shouldn’t ask, but the question kept bubbling in his throat. It sounded too insensitive. He must have look it, because Tanaka then said, “Let it out, Hinata.”

“Who is it?” Shouyou asked simply. Tanaka paused for a second before answering.

“No idea. He won’t tell me. It’s not Kiyoko-san, that’s for sure.” Tanaka said, shrugging. “Whoever it is, we don’t know if they even like him back.” Shouyou pressed his lips into a thin line. “What does that mean?” Tanaka blinked.

“Really, Hinata? I mean I knew you were dumb as bricks but I didn’t expect this.” He sneered good-naturedly. “I know about Hanahaki but not in detail!” Shouyou whispers embarrassedly. Tanaka reaches forward to give Shouyou a light noogie.

“Hanahaki usually happens when someone like likes someone. Now whether that love is mutual or not, you get hints from- like,” Tanaka paused, gesturing wildly, ”-the-the flowers you vomit out. It-it only goes away when you- y’know- confess.” He seemed uncomfortable and this is when Shouyou learns that Hanahaki is a private topic.

Knowing this, Shouyou decided not to press on the topic any further, even if worry slowly ate him up from the inside. He tried shaking it off and reverting his focus back to improving at camp. If Nishinoya seemed unbothered by it, then Shouyou wouldn’t interfere.

In the morning of the final day of camp, Shouyou almost stumbled upon a private discussion between Yaku and Nishinoya. He immediately fled from the scene, making sure to do so quietly so to not disturb them.

For the rest of the day, Nishinoya bounced around, hyper, and the sounds of retching halted.

They won against Inarizaki. They surprised everyone yet again: miraculous play after miraculous play, Karasuno snatched the win from who were supposed to be the favourites to win this thing. The team was exhausted, but not enough to completely wear them down. They dispersed, some heading to other parts of the court to watch other matches, some took a rest and some grabbed snacks. Shouyou opted to take a rest. 

He stared at his stinging arms, eyes following where the pink and red blossomed like pretty wild flowers. Shouyou felt every ache in his body, his senses now simultaneously hyperaware yet fuzzy. He tried to take a deep breath, but suddenly felt the world spin. His stomach lurched and his throat felt scratchy and wet. It took everything in his power to not break into a coughing fit. He screwed his eyes shut, and got up. That only made it worse, since it made the corners of his vision blacken. He stood up too fast is all. He could faintly hear someone call his name, but by the time he opened his eyes again, his vision was back to normal.

“Hinata-kun?” He heard Yachi’s small voice, and turned to face her. She looked worried, her hand almost touching his arm. “What’s wrong?” There were times like these where Shouyou was unconditionally grateful for Yachi’s mere existence.

Shouyou blinked. “Oh, nothing, I just stood up too fast is all!” He beamed and stretched, reassuring Yachi. He suddenly felt his stomach do backflips, his heart racing, his throat feeling open and gaping. Shouyou knew too well the signs he’s going to throw up. But this time it was a slightly different: He felt something flutter in his chest. It was soft, but it made him anxious all the same. Something was wrong. He excused himself to the bathroom, finding Kageyama’s insults rather comforting in this situation.

After yelling back to the setter for a bit, Shouyou speed walked, but as soon as the team was out of sight, he ran to the bathrooms. He grabbed the sink, feeling sick all over again. He coughed, small and wheezy at first, but then they grew loud and shook his entire body. 

His throat felt like it had been clawed raw at, his mind unable to comprehend the red suddenly staining the sink. 

Another wave of agony struck his chest and throat, his stomach lurched for the tenth time, but this time he finally was able to get something out. He expected gross bile, and maybe a little bit of the pork bun he ate earlier, but now he wished he saw what he expected.

Alot of purple stained the sink, along with the red. There was something white too. He saw what he saw, but he still couldn’t bring himself to this realization. 'No, this is a dream. It's just a dream!'

Shouyou gingerly brought a finger to touch the colours stuck to the sink. 

They were soft, they were petals.

They were petals.

Immediate panic swept through him. Questions pouring from every corner of his brain. ‘When did this start happening? What was I doing when this was happening? Why now?!’ But most importantly:

“Who the hell did I fall in love with?” He wheezed to himself, only now feeling the pained tears fall off the bridge of his nose.

Kageyama? No if that were the case he should’ve gotten this way sooner. Yamaguchi? He’s pretty sure he’s like a little brother to him. Yachi? She’s pretty but he can’t see himself falling in love with her. ‘Who is it?!’ he yells at himself, breathing hard, frustration and panic clouding his senses.

“You idiot..” Shouyou snapped his head up to listen to the new voice. ‘When did he come in?’ the fleeting thought was interrupted by Tsukishima slowly approaching him. Instinctively, Shouyou shrunk a little, before Tsukishima placed a hand on his back, unsure. The firm press made Shouyou cough again, the petals fluttering out of his mouth.

“Let it out.” So he did. He coughed his lungs out, and now the sink was almost covered with a thick layer of tiny petals, maybe a little bit of bright green too. Through it all, Tsukishima patiently waited beside him, aiding him by massaging his back.

“When did this start?” He finally asked when Shouyou’s coughs reduced to tiny wheezes.

“I don’t know.” He grumbled in reply, exhaustion wrecking his body. A pause.

“Who is it-?”

“..I don’t know!” Shouyou snapped weakly. He heard Tsukishima sigh.

“You think you can still play?” 

Shouyou wiped at his mouth and straightened, “Of course I can.” Tsukishima eyed him suspiciously. Shouyou shot a glare back.

“If you say so, but if I hear so much so as cough, I’m telling Daichi-san.” Shouyou took it as a challenge.

“Aww, is that your way of saying you care about me, Tsukki~?” Shouyou cooed, as if he didn’t contract a disease that could most likely be lethal if he doesn’t do anything about it. Shouyou reckons if it was this easy to hide it for Nishinoya. Shouyou could handle it.

“Shut up. Our game against Nekoma starts after thirty minutes, you better gather yourself.” Tsukishima smacks his back, hard.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.” Shouyou barks back. Tsukishima scoffs and retreats out of the bathroom, leaving Shouyou alone again.

He groans into the sink. ‘Why did this have to happen now?’ he berates himself again.

Tanaka’s words from the Tokyo training camp resurfaced in his mind. 

“Hanahaki usually happens when someone like likes someone. Now whether that love is mutual or not, you get hints from the flowers you vomit out.” 

Shouyou glared at this petals beneath him, as if that would beat them into submission. Slowly, he picked out a few dry petals of each colour he sees. A few purple, a few white, a few red. The green were leaves, he knew that much.

There were times like these Shouyou was unconditionally grateful for the mere existence of Yachi Hitoka.

“Yachi!” He called out, singing. Said girl perks up to find Shouyou hopping towards her. She was alone too, thank goodness. “Hinata-kun! What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing much, but..” He trailed as he pulls out a handful of the petals before. “I saw these flowers outside earlier, I’ve never seen them before, so I’d thought I’d ask you what kind they are!” He lied easily. Yachi peered at the petals, her eyebrows furrowing together. She hummed thoughtfully. 

“Well, my cousin is a florist, and I’ve seen these flowers enough to know they’re heathers,” She pointed to the white and purple petals, “and I’d say these are,” she was snapping her fingers like she was trying to remember something, “carnations! They’re red carnations!” Shouyou feigned awe and almost too quickly asked, “What do they mean?”

Yachi hummed in thought. “The lavender heathers mean admiration, when you look up to someone a lot?” Shouyou nodded a little too eagerly. “The white ones mean that your wishes will come true- I can see why they put these ones around.” She muttered to herself. 

“And the red ones?” Shouyou asked.

“Admiration, again, but they can also mean pride, dignity and..,” Yachi trailed off, seemed to realise something, “love.” She finished. Shouyou sucked a breath in, already preparing himself for his false explanation.

“Hinata-kun..” But when Yachi looked at him like that, the façade crumbled and he fell silent. He pocketed the petals into his bag nearby, making sure to cover them up properly.

‘What if she tells someone? What if they tell coach? I wont be able to play on court if anyone else knows. Already two people know, this talk could spread.’

“Don’t tell anyone, please?” He hated how his voice came out pleading and small, looking anywhere but at her. 

He jumped when he felt something press against his back and something fisting at the back of his shirt. When he felt something wet pool around his shoulder blades, he immediately turned around to see a messy and crying Yachi. Shouyou panicked.

“Y-Yachi! I-I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to-!“ He shut up when she firmly held his hand. She took a deep breath and mumbled through her tears, only audible to him, “You better tell them, H-Hinata-kun. This-this could be bad. Nishinoya-san’s healed quickly b-because he was able to tell Yaku-san before the s-second stage started. You have only a few days to get rid of this, Hinata-kun!”

Shouyou froze at her practically scolding him. This affected her more than this affected him, and he felt awful for it. He bit back the retort of ‘I don’t know who it is’ for Yachi’s own sake.

Pure gratitude filled him up to the brim and for a second, he forgot he was even lethally sick in the first place. Yachi was the kind of friend who would ask him if he went along with his friends right, if he checked on his mom that day, or if he gave his sister attention every evening. She was another reminder for him to take care of himself, and she spoke clear through the clouds if there was something he needed to hear. Shouyou bit his lip and gave Yachi’s hand an appreciative squeeze.

“I will, Yachi, I will. Thank you.” He smiled, pure and genuine this time. Yachi beamed back as she messily tried to wipe her tears.

Shouyou didn’t hear the final whistle. “Tanaka-san, nice serve!” He whirled around to said teammate, only to see he was floored. Shouyou glanced up to the scoreboard only to realize Karasuno was two points ahead.

“It’s over, dumbass.” Kageyama muttered, exhaustion lacing his tone. They won against Nekoma. They advanced to the quarter-finals of Nationals.

He feels the team silently collapsing onto the court floor behind him, Shouyou’s legs managing to keep him standing. His eyes were still on the score board, but his focus was blurred. He craned his head to the roof of the stadium, the blinding lights glaring down at him. Breathing hard, Shouyou scanned the crowd, and almost instinctively, his eyes landed on a tuft of white hair. He stared back at those golden eyes, almost challenging him. 

It was only when he tore his eyes away from the boy when he felt something rise in his throat. He turned around to cough carefully into his hand. Shouyou stopped himself before he could break into a fit, and retreated his hand carefully to see more petals.

They weren’t purple. They weren’t white. They weren’t red. ‘Wow I’m coughing up a rainbow here. Thanks Crush-san,’ Shouyou amused himself as he closed his fingers around the dotted black, orange petals. He huffed to himself, a small smile growing at his lips.

“Okay, line up everyone.” Sawamura stood back up and clapped loudly; this is the first time Shouyou has ever seen the captain slouch.

“Yessir.” The team chorused tiredly. Shouyou returned with the others, not before flashing a lazy smile to the golden-eyed boy in the crowd.

They had three hours before they played quarter-finals. They passes the first thirty minutes resting and catching their energy back- well in Shouyou’s case, trying to get a grip on the Hanahaki, with a little help from Yachi. He learned that the flowers earlier were tiger lilies, and they meant someone dared him to love them.

A challenger, Shouyou thought, alone in the bathroom again. How many challengers has he met? Miya Atsumu? Miya Osamu? Whichever one he was? No, it can’t be. He couldn’t even tell them apart, let alone fall in love with them. He peered into the mirror, glaring at the boy in front of him, hair sticking up at crazy angles, eyes droopy and squinting, tiger lilies fluttering from his mouth into the half filled sink. 

There was a loud yell and a thud that made Shouyou jump, his eyes darting towards the origin of the sound. Hoshiumi Kourai emerged from the door, with that huge two meter middle blocker laughing behind him. Hoshiumi was visibly pissed, and practically kicked his friend out, slamming the door. “Leave me alone, you jackass!” He yelled, pressing himself against the door to keep it shut. He turned to see Shouyou.

Shouyou quickly gathered himself and drained the sink, wiping his mouth. He froze when he heard Hoshiumi cough heavily against the door, almost staining the door with...orange.

“You too, huh?” Hoshiumi wheezed.

“Yeah,” Shouyou replied, stunned to see the same tiger lilies coating Hoshiumi’s lips, “it started when I got here.” He heard Hoshiumi hum thoughtfully.

“Same.” Hoshiumi’s face softened into one of exasperation. Shouyou’s shoulders relaxed and Hoshiumi pressed his forehead against the door again.

Something ugly and intense rose into Shouyou’s chest, and before he knew it, an uncontrollable coughing fit took over him. Orange- and now yellow stained the sink. ’Ah, rainbow it is.’ Shouyou thought. He felt two holes burning into his side, where Hoshiumi now detached himself from the door. He chuckled bitterly.

“Jealous, are we? Sachirou had these a while back.” He patted Shouyou’s shoulder, who hung his head.

“I don’t even know who it is, it’s been bugging me ever since.” Shouyou vented.

Hoshiumi didn’t seem to listen, since his own coughing fit started, and through the corner of his eyes, Shouyou saw yellow. Shouyou’s eyes widened as he gripped the sink.

“I guess we’re the same in more ways than height and leap.” Hoshiumi wiped his mouth, eyes still on him. Shouyou finally straightened to look Hoshiumi in the eye for the fourth time this week. There was no possessive, competitive glint in those golden eyes this time. That, however, didn’t stop Hoshiumi from biting weakly in a too familiar tone,

“That doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you.” 

Shouyou couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him, “You don’t have to worry about that.”

‘Yeah, it’s this guy.’ Shouyou rolled his eyes and thought to himself as Hoshiumi took his leave. 

‘This is weird’, he thought, as two new colours filled the sink- light blue and bright purple. ‘It doesn’t hurt as much as before’, he noticed as he leant against the sink for a much longer period of time.

He braced himself against the hot court floor, panting. A second ago, he scored a point, riling his team up. He remembers Tanaka-san reaching out his hand to him, and after that, his memory went blank. What happened?

He tried sitting up again, but stumbled. He felt hot, his throat aching, his mind spinning, but it didn’t matter because everything was blurred out by his adrenaline. He had the time of his playing– and winning- against Hoshiumi Kourai, he didn’t noticed his fuel was running low. 

He looked at his teammates, and realised how among faces of shock and confusion, Tsukishima’s stood out as guilty. The more he tried to focus on the details surrounding him, the more his head got fuzzier. He could hear the faint whispers and low murmurs of the crowd, but even that noise got blocked out after a certain amount of time.

“He probably has a fever.”

He could hear that clear as day, though. He stared at Kageyama, disbelieving. ‘The Hanahaki only made my head go weird, cough and throw up. A fever isn’t supposed to come, is it? I mean- I didn’t feel a fever running up while I was here- and besides who’s Kageyama to talk?!’ He thought to himself as Takeda-sensei called a time-out.

It was too late, however, when Shimizu read the beeping thermometer. The words Takeda-sensei forced out drained him more than any match he’s played.

“..I can’t let you back on that court.”

After Takeda-sensei’s words, Shouyou finally gave in, a tearful, guilty mess. The team tried their absolute best to cheer him up, despite the obvious dire circumstances. It was easy to see the sliver of worry threaded through their carefully crafted façades. 

If only he’d taken care of this “crush” of his, if only he had rested well and heeded to Yachi’s advice, he would still be playing on the court.

‘You were selfish,’ several nasty voices echoed through his mind, ‘you only cared about playing longer than anybody else on court, that you forgot it was your upperclassmen’s last game-‘

“Hinata Shouyou!”

 A firm voice tore through the chaos in his mind. He turned around to see Hoshiumi Kourai, standing proud. 

“I’ll be waiting for you!” 

The voices in his head silenced. That was all it took to bring that tiny hopeful bit of peace in Shouyou’s mind. Hoshiumi didn’t care he got sick, he saw the potential in Shouyou to know he’s one hell of a rival. He bowed deeply, the anticipation of a future match (or more) burning through his already shot nerves.
He got back up, head dizzy for a moment, and followed Yachi outside.

Kamomedai advanced to the semi-finals. Karasuno wasn’t able to chase the ball back into the court. To be fair, Kourai supposed, when they had both Hinata Shouyou and that tall blocker with glasses out, Karasuno themselves had realised the momentum of their offense and defence had been hindered beyond repair. They sure as hell wore Kourai and the team out thin, though.

Kourai pressed his forehead against the window of the bus. Their building didn’t even take half an hour to reach, but Kourai could already count about six people snoring in their seats. Kourai felt way too dizzy to trust himself falling asleep. He coughed, breaking into the fifth fit of the day, careful of not waking anyone up. 

After a particularly nasty one, Kourai retreated his hand to look at the soft petals in his hand. They were small, exactly like the yellow ones he had for more than half of the day, but instead they were bright purple. ‘Purple Hyacinths,’ he told himself, but he was too tired to actually look the meaning up on that one.

He pocketed the petals, and craned his head against the bus seat. He looked out the window, the dull buildings passing by not really garnering any of his attention.

‘I should probably tell him before he leaves,’ he mused.

“Hoshiumi-san?” Kageyama’s voice came from the other end. Kourai could hear a ruckus in the background, a loud ‘SHUT UP’ that didn’t belong to the setter, and then relative silence. He could practically hear Kageyama wince.

“Uh-yeah, it’s me. How is everything back there?” Kourai stuttered, and only realised how nervous he actually was. 

“We’re doing fine, Hinata and Tsukishima got the treatment they needed.” Kageyama said, monotonous.

“That’s- that’s good and uh-,” ‘Kourai get a grip on yourself!’ He ruffled his hair.

“C-can I visit Hinata Shouyou?” The other line went silent. He heard a few murmurs, and then- 

“Yeah, okay.” Kourai could hear Kageyama smiling? ‘Woah when’d that happen?’ he thought, amused. His shoulders relaxed and brought a hand down from his hair. 

“When will you be here?” Kageyama asked.

“Probably in about an hour or two. Send me the location, okay?” If Kourai manages to convince his coach and captain, anyway. He’s not really worried about that, though. He has his ways. 

“Okay, Hoshiumi-san. See you soon.” And without waiting for a reply, Kageyama hung up.

It look much less time to convince them, but it was at a price. Kourai thought that just mentioning Hanahaki was enough, but Suwa had him cornered with one word and one word alone, “Who?” After that, it actually took some teasing and convincing to finally get it out of him. Due to Nozawa being a nosy bastard, the entire team now knows.

‘I’ll kill that stoned piece of shit some day,” Kourai thought bitterly as he huffed a mist cloud through his scarf, kicking a pebble through the soft, shallow snow. He was on his way, but he felt anything but prepared. ‘What will I even say to him? ‘’Oh you looked great when you played n’ ‘cuz of that I have this garden stuffed down my lungs.''’ Kourai shook his head, heart racing and face already burning. 

‘Why does God hate me..’ He thinks as his cell phone informs him the building he’s looking for is close by. He stops in his tracks, hesitating, then decides, ‘Fuck it, I’m going.’ 

Kourai gingerly knocks on the door. He waits, hands folded in front of him. It was so unlike him- to act this way, Kourai thought to himself, but he couldn’t keep his nervousness in check. He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the door knob turn, revealing Karasuno’s Number Five with the buzz cut who had the nasty cut shot.

“Oh! Hoshiumi-san! Fancy seeing you here.” There was no malice in his voice, the guy had a positively wide grin. It reassured Kourai a little, “I asked Kageyama if I could visit Hinata Shouyou.” He saw something perk in Number Five’s smile.

“Oh, he did, did he? I’ll take you to him.” The guy seemed pretty relaxed about this situation- though Kourai didn’t know what to expect since he had openly complimented Number Five through the net.

He was taken inside, and he realised how much of a modest place it was. The floors occasionally creaked, and a light down the main lounge flickered. He could spot Karasuno’s libero knocked out cold on the couch, Kageyama himself, who he greeted, and a few other benchers who were watching what he could assume were matches. Karasuno’s ace and captain were nowhere to be seen, though.

“Here he is,” Number Five gestured towards the Shouji door in front of them. “I don’t think he’s asleep, so you can talk to him. I’m gonna go watch with the others, okay? Keep your distance!” Kourai assumed ‘watch’ an in ‘re-watch the matches’.

“Okay!” He called back as he disappeared around the corner.

He was about to open the door when his head felt dizzy all over again. Kourai put a hand over his mouth to stifle any coughs, and gripped the door for stability. He retracted his hand to expect another petal colour, but was surprised by whole, tiny daisies dropping from his lips. They were so frail, yet they managed to remain intact, not a single petal plucked. His heart swelled, and he tried to extinguish the smile of relief that had creeped onto his lips.

He took a deep breath, collecting himself, and opened the door a little. He was met with darkness, and for a second, Kourai thought Hinata had fallen asleep. What made him think otherwise, as he close the door behind him, was the slight shuffle heard in the vague direction of what he assumed to be Hinata’s futon.

“Who is it?” The voice croaked. Kourai felt himself tense up at just hearing his voice.

“Hoshiumi Kourai.” He clapped himself on the back for at least keeping his voice stable.

“Oh!” He heard even more shuffling. “Wait- you can turn the lights on, the switch is near the door is- first button.” Hinata says, his voice now slightly less groggier.

With the lights on, Kourai could see how wrecked the poor boy was. His hair was even more of a mess, his sleepwear slid off a shoulder, his surgical mask slightly crumpled from one side. He could see the mess of flowers on Hinata’s futon, and supposed the disease was half the reason for his fever. Hinata himself was sitting upright in his futon, looking slightly dazed. ‘He still looks beautiful.’

“So, how’s your fever?” Kourai asked, not to stall, obviously, definitely, but to ask how he’s been doing.

“It’s been better. My body temperature dropped a little,” replied Hinata, coughing a little.

“That’s good. And the Hanahaki?” Kourai asked, carefully masking his nervousness.

He heard Hinata scoff weakly, “No, I don’t think I have the guts now to tell him.”

‘Him.’ Kourai felt a surge of hope, if it’s true that its mutual (to which Kourai prays to God it is), Kourai will get rid of it for Hinata.

“I-I kinda wanted to tell you something, before-before you left.” Kourai started, now collectively feeling all of the anxiety from the past day packed up in this moment, his face heating up again.

Hinata squinted curiously, then patted the floor besides him. Kourai obliged and seated himself, now at eye level with him. His heart was racing and he had a half grip on his conscience.

“I..I think I know who did this to me.” Kourai forced. Hinata looked confused before he eyed the daisies in Kourai’s hand, his eyes softening. Kourai suddenly couldn’t look at him anymore.

“T’wz’yuu.” Kourai mumbled. He could feel his body drum to the sound of his heart. 

“I’m- I’m sorry?” Hinata didn’t seem to hear what he had said- Kourai felt mild irritation buzzing in his brain.

“I said-“ he started again before he accidentally inhaled way too hard and let loose a coughing fit he had shoved away at the back of his throat. He coughed harder and harder and he couldn’t stop himself. He opened his eyes to realize he wasn’t the only one in a fit. Hinata was experiencing something similar, but instead of the identical daisies spilling out of Kourai’s mouth, Hinata’s more or less dripped out of his mask. As small wheezes escaped his lips, he leaned a little towards Hinata, examining how breathless tears clung to his lashes.

“It was you,” he said, clear as day. He watched as those tired, amber eyes widened, he watched the pale skin around the mask bloom red. Then as if a light had switched into his brain, Hinata’s face scrunched into one of comical disbelief and Kourai couldn’t help but chuckle bashfully. 

“Ehhh? For real?” Hinata croaked, his face now absolutely steaming. Kourai hummed in approval. Hinata buried his face in his hands.

“Oh my God, you’re not kidding..! I-I like you too. It’s just- wow- I never- I never thought it’d be mutual.” Hinata said, stumbling over his words. Kourai couldn’t help the big, stupid smile that tugged at his lips and brought his knees up to hide his face.

“Well, it is..” Kourai muttered weakly, not knowing what else to say. He got a crush and confessed the same day? Weird, but it made him feel even weirder inside because he knows Hanahaki doesn’t lie, even if it does rush at times.

He felt a warm hand on his arm, and as he peeked through, he realised Hinata scooted closer to him, had taken his mask off. His amber eyes were on fire, burning into his golden ones, and Kourai couldn’t look away. But then his eyes softened and he reached upward. Kourai closed his eyes as he felt two pair of lips plant a firm, chaste kiss on his forehead. He felt like his stomach was on fire, licking away at his lungs and heart.

Hinata groaned and retreated back to his futon. “My stomach hurts,” he hissed. Kourai chortled softly, “It’s just all of the flowers burning up,” he explained. “You don’t know that much about Hanahaki, do you?”

Hinata flushed, embarrassed, “N-no, I don’t. I know the basics, but I’ve never known the details up close.”

“It’s okay,” Kourai paused. “Do you know how I can like- contact you, when we’re away?” he sounded hopeful, playing with the daisies in his hands.

“Yeah! My bag is over there,” Hinata perked up and pointed to the far corner of the room, where a few duffle bags resided, ”The first one to the left.” He obliged, and brought the bag over. Hinata fished through his bag, and a second later, he retreated with an old looking flip phone. He opened it and handed it to Kourai.

“Number,” he asked simply. They exchanged contact, and while Kourai was looking for a good emote text to send Hinata, he felt Hinata press up against him. “Is that a golden retriever?!” He asked, stars in his eyes.

“Yeah! He’s Sachirou’s, and he’s been with him ever since he was in diapers.” Kourai shifts his phone closer for Hinata to see.

“’Sachirou’?” he asked.

“Oh! Uh- that one two meter middle blocker, number six you faced today.” Kourai tried to explain.

“Ohhh! Tell him I’m jealous of his height- and his dog too- and how he gets to spend more time with you.” Hinata’s fever-caused bluntness of it made Kourai flush and bark out a laugh.
 
“Yeah, I’ll tell him that.” He grinned and was met with a sunny smile. ‘Jesus, he is out to make my heart explode I swear,’ Kourai tells himself as they scroll through his gallery for the next ten minutes.

“Tomorrow’s the last day we’re gonna be here,” Shouyou says, ”Could you somehow- uh..” He paused, the first time he’s seen him visibly nervous, ”Could you spend the day with me?” He says, barely audible, but it manages to shoot Kourai right through the heart. 

His brain was shot, and without thinking straight, he cupped Hinata’s cheeks with both of this hands, cradling his chin, and place a gentle, oh so gentle little kiss on Hinata’s nose.

“Yes I will, stop being cute.” It was Kourai’s turn to be blunt. Hinata’s laugh made him weak.

“Nah. Thank you, Hoshiumi-kun.” A fond smile played at Kourai’s lips.

“Anytime, Hinata-kun.”