In the arms of "Hanahaki"

Music, noise, heaviness.

You never liked parties, yet here you were. You disliked being without your friend Dave amidst the chaos, but now you found yourself alone. You also hated solitude, yet at this moment, you felt utterly empty.

The intrusive, loud melody grated on your nerves, and the crowd threatened to brush against you at any moment. The people you usually talked to were absent—they had decided to skip this celebration. You longed to do the same—to leave and not come back. The only reason you were here was your best friend Dave, who had vanished as suddenly as lightning. He was the only guy with whom you shared a close bond; most of your circle consisted of girls. But Dave... He deserved to be your friend, a special person and a kindred spirit—without any vulgarity.

You met Dave when you were just eight years old. Back then, you still lived in an old house on the outskirts of town with your parents. He was your neighbor—someone who captured your heart completely.

Your acquaintance began when you were walking across a vast field just outside your neighborhood. You often ran there during fights with your parents. You loved falling into the fresh wheat that tickled your face.

It was then that you heard the rustling of wheat—he was there. A little boy, a few months older than you. You hadn’t spoken much before, but knew he was your neighbor. Suddenly, an unfamiliar figure approached even closer to where you lay. Instinctively, you sat up and realized he was pointing a small bouquet of white lilies directly at your face. Some of the petals were already dried out, yet they still looked startlingly white.

Bewildered, you looked at the shy boy and accepted his gift nonetheless. That was when he spoke his first words addressed to you:

“This is so you won’t cry anymore, crybaby... And don’t look at me like that! If something interests you, just ask. M-my name’s Dave...”

Yes, many years have passed since then, but that moment still warms your heart. Once, around age fourteen, you even tried to confess everything to your best friend—but he firmly refused, saying:

“You are more like a relative to me—you know that... I prefer not to tie myself down with things like ‘relationships’.”

And he was right; Dave loved a wild lifestyle and casual flings too much. You couldn’t blame him for his feelings—so over time, you managed to accept them and even forget. Maybe forget...

Now both of you are twenty years old and going through one of the most turbulent periods in human history...

Recently, your close friend Claire died—quickly and painfully... From a new disease sweeping the world called “Hanahaki.”

It terrified you, yet deep down you refused to believe in its existence—thought it was just a fabrication—and that your friend had died from something else...

But believing that flowers bloom inside a person’s lungs and hinder breathing was hard enough; even harder was accepting that these symptoms stemmed from unrequited love.

And yet, despite some skepticism, you mourned her loss... A loss that your friend Dave had suggested to erase at this very party...

Having listened to enough music, standing in a corner for a long time with quite a bit of alcohol inside you, you decided to go to the restroom—to catch your breath from the overwhelming “load” of the party. Looking around in hopes of spotting a familiar face, you sighed sadly and reached for the door handle.

But as soon as you turned it—and opened—the horror struck: frozen in place—you couldn’t believe what you saw.

A familiar dark-haired head leaned over the toilet bowl and coughs dryly—a treacherous cough that haunted your mind because it resembled exactly Claire’s...

He finally noticed your presence.

Yes—that was Dave. Under his brown eyes were dark circles from exhaustion; his eyebrows arched in surprise and fear; his mouth stained with a streak of blood. On his forehead lay his tanned arm clutching two bloodied white petals... The very same petals belonging to lilies—the lilies he once gave you as comfort.