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Getting through the day was never easy, but Izuku made it work. He has to, otherwise all his hard work and the help he’s gained from others along the way would be for nothing. He couldn’t let this dream of his die over a little flower.
At least, that’s what he tells himself it is. Just a little flower. Tiny blue petals of forget-me-nots settling in his chest and pouring from his mouth when he coughs. Never mind that the flowers, while small, grew in bunches on thick, fuzzy stems. Never mind that these little flowers had been growing for some time now, that their beautiful blue hues were constantly painted red, constantly clogging his throat whenever he so much as sighed at the thought of his love.
Unrequited love.
Izuku clears his throat, can feel the tickle of another little petal sticking to his throat and he tries to even his breathing.
It really isn’t so bad, being in love. Well, being in love without the feelings being returned. Besides, the flowers hold meaning, and if forget-me-nots really meant “true love,” then Izuku’s love was pure.
It hurt, but he could handle it.
He would handle it, because there was nothing wrong with his love. It was pure, it was true, and he’s felt this way for so long, how could he ever think of a life without these thick stems pushing at his chest, pressing into his lungs, pouring from his mouth?
No, the flowers weren’t an issue. He manages it well and has had the stems trimmed back. They won’t uproot it from where it grew - he wouldn’t allow that - but the doctors he’s seen keep their opinions to themselves and hide their pity behind soft smiles when he comes for another trim.
Izuku wraps the bloodied petals this morning in a napkin and tosses it in the trash, wiping at his mouth before leaving his room. He smiles to his friends in the hall and carries about his day as usual - nothing threatens his life, he knows this. Believes this.
Seeing Kacchan at breakfast brings another little tickle to the back of his throat, but he smiles through it and keeps his breathing as even as he can. No one notices, no one knows, and Izuku keeps it that way.
Because a life without Kacchan in his sight isn’t one he wants to live.
———
“She was coughing up so many rose petals,” Uraraka sighs sadly, holding her cheeks. “It was hard to watch, especially when you think about how roses have thorns!”
Asui pats her shoulder gently, a small smile on her lips. “It’s okay, Ochako-chan, it was just a movie. I don’t think hanahaki actually turns out like that.”
Iida hums in thought, finishing the last bite of his lunch before he says anything. “My brother told me about a villain who had a quirk that could inflict hanahaki on anyone once - it was a long time ago, but he said the victims were coughing up a lot of petals based on their feelings.”
“So it is like this movie?” Todoroki asks, curious despite the tone of his voice.
“I wouldn’t say so,” Izuku laughs, waving away the worried looks on the girl’s faces, “that was a quirk inflicted infection, and it was for anyone. Real hanahaki infects those that deeply love someone who doesn’t return those feelings at all.”
Uraraka didn’t look convinced. “But what if that love is too much? Wouldn’t someone end up suffocating from all the flowers in their throat?”
Izuku held back a sudden cough, the thought of the love being too much setting off a flare of petals in his chest. “N-no, I don’t think love can be too much. I mean, it must hurt, but it’s just like any other infection. Sometimes you can work through it.”
“But… doesn’t hanahaki stay with you forever, Midoriya-chan?” Asui asks, holding her finger to her chin thoughtfully. “Unless you fall out of love or have the feelings returned, it’s not going to just go away.”
Izuku nods, clearing his throat a little. “M-maybe, but… but I think you can get the flowers trimmed without them being uprooted.”
“Uprooted?” The girls repeated the word in confusion, and Izuku could feel his cheeks burn.
He stares at his lunch, pushing some of the food around. “If… if you would rather not deal with it, you can get the plants in your chest uprooted. I-it’s a surgery, but it comes at the cost of forgetting the person you loved.”
Uraraka gasps, her hand to her mouth as her eyes shine with unshed tears. “That’s horrible! I… I can’t imagine forgetting all about someone you love…”
Asui reaches over to pat her shoulder comfortingly again, rubbing her back a little now, too. “It’s for the best though - hanahaki has a fatality rate higher than most other diseases.”
Iida nods solemnly, “as heartbreaking as it is, I don’t believe I could live with flowers growing in my chest for too long.”
“How long can someone live with hanahaki anyway?” Todoroki wonders softly, returning to his food.
Izuku thinks he wasn’t genuinely asking, but he couldn’t help himself. “Longest record is ten years,” Uraraka gapes at him, “and apparently they’re still inflicted.”
“Ten years?!”
“How do you know that, Midoriya-chan?” Asui stares at him, and Izuku flinches.
“I… I knew someone who had it.”
“Really?”
“That’s terrible,” Uraraka murmurs, reaching over and holding his hands. “Were their feelings ever returned?”
Izuku stops himself from glancing at Kacchan across the room, the flowers tickling his throat again. “I… I don’t know. It was only in passing, but I got curious and researched for more information.”
“Well, I hope they’re okay,” Iida says, his voice hopeful. He breaks the seal on his bottled water and smiles at Uraraka. “If anything, this person Midoriya-kun knew has gotten the surgery to ensure their own safety.”
Uraraka nods sadly. “I guess… it’s always better to look out for yourself, and I mean, the feelings are unrequited…”
Izuku stares at her. “What do you mean?”
“W-well,” her face turns red and she seems to shrink in on herself, “they don’t love you back, why wait for something that might not happen?”
“What if it’s a close friend?”
Uraraka bites her bottom lip, but Todoroki answers instead. “If it’s their friend, they should try confessing. If that doesn’t work out, they can explain they have hanahaki and that it’s for the better to get the surgery.”
Izuku doesn’t like this answer. “W-what if the friend isn’t understanding?”
“Then… are they really a friend?” Asui offers, and Izuku’s heart sinks.
He can barely hear Iida as he asks what brought them to such a sad topic, or why Uraraka had watched the movie. Izuku glances to the table full of laughter across the room, to where Kacchan sits amongst his friends throwing stuff at one another.
His throat burns with the need to cough.
———
Throughout his training at U.A., Izuku has been reprimanded many times for his lack of self preservation. He’s worked at it, done his best to look out for others while keeping himself safe as well.
To think that the removal of a deadly flowering disease growing in his chest would cross his mind is ridiculous.
Izuku has lived with hanahaki for a decade, and he doesn’t foresee ever getting it removed. Not if it means forgetting Kacchan - his childhood friend, his reformed ex-bully, his rival. Izuku couldn’t dream of it even if he wanted to.
It’s not like his world revolved around Kacchan, but Kacchna was pretty damned involved in his life. Izuku isn’t going to pretend that the removal of the flowers is a good idea if it meant letting go of half of who he is. In a lot of ways, Kacchan was important to him beyond a simple crush of pure, true love.
He’s never gotten over it, but it isn’t like he ever tried. Hell, even when he was treated poorly by Kacchan, Izuku never considered letting go of his feelings.
His friends are right, however. Hanahaki is a dangerous disease, one that kills more than unites people. His feelings for Kacchan aren’t going anywhere in terms of being requited, and he sure as hell isn’t going to let the roots within his chest be removed.
It will get easier and better for him if he lets these feelings die - if he begins to think of Kacchan only as a friend, a rival, someone with whom he cannot and should not look at romantically.
He needs to let this love go.
———
Izuku stares, his chest full and heart racing. “Huh?”
“Don’t huh me,” Kacchan scoffs, rolling his eyes. “It’s a yes or no question, nerd.”
“Wh-what was the question?”
Kacchan narrows his eyes now. “Are you listening to me?”
“Yes!”
“Then how the fuck did you miss the question?”
Izuku gulps, can feel the tickle of petals lodged down his throat. “I… I just… didn’t think you would want to.”
Kacchan raises a brow. “Why wouldn’t I wanna spar with you? I’m the only one who knows about your… well, anyway, we should work on it.”
Izuku thinks he’s died. We? There’s a we? Since when were they a we?!
“Deku…”
“Yes!” Izuku nods quickly, trying to bite back the smile threatening to pull at his lips, “I… yes, definitely! When?”
Heaving a sign, Kacchan shakes his head. “Like I said when I asked in the first place - tonight.”
“Yes!”
“Stop yelling.”
“Okay!”
Kacchan smacks his shoulder, but there’s a smirk on his lips that has Izuku’s cheeks burning. He doesn’t say anything else, turning back in his seat just as Ectoplasm walks in.
Izuku stares at the nape of his neck, warmth flooding through him, and he can feel the tickle getting worse. Grabbing a tissue from the pack he keeps in his pocket, Izuku is quick to get through the coughing fit without making too much noise or issue over it, clearing his throat of any little forget-me-nots. He checks the tissue subtly and sees little jasmine petals in the mix, but that isn’t completely unusual.
Jasmine means friendly, and Izuku certainly feels some sort of friendship right then. He’s had many petals mixed in with his forget-me-nots, usually fleeting, often different sizes, but he’s had time to research them all and learn about the different meanings.
The one that’s remained in the ten years since falling for Kacchan as a small child has always been forget-me-nots, flowers his mother loved and tends to on their windowsill everyday. Izuku recognized the little flower the first time he coughed it up and ran to his mother asking why he was coughing up her favorite flower.
She’d cried and held him close, before confirming he had the disease with a doctor the next day.
He’d been too young then to consider a surgery, and as time went on, with every visit to the doctor, they’ve confirmed other flowers growing in the bunch.
As a child, Izuku’s flowers went from anything as simple as lavender, red carnations, lily of the valley, and daisies to more complicated ones like cherry blossoms and anemone. For a long time, mostly in middle school, the forget-me-nots were growing less and less and lotus flowers had taken over, along with red camellia. Gardenia rooted into his chest in his final year of middle school, not long before the forget-me-nots took over again.
Cactus flowers grew during puberty, and with them amaryllis and azaleas. Upon entering U.A. he’s found sunflowers, yellow camellia, and only once, for the brief moment in which he thought he’d lost Kacchan in the summer, sweet pea.
Finding other flowers wasn’t unusual, especially with the little blue forget-me-nots. The doctors were always kind about it, explaining to Izuku what certain flowers might mean if they happened to know, and reassuring him that it only meant his emotions were changing over the years.
Once, a nurse asked about the lotus and the red camellia and Izuku hadn’t thought much of why he’d have those beyond the bullying. Even when he tried to downplay it, the bruises on his hands and knees from being shoved down were enough for the nurse to look at him sadly. She’d asked him about whether or not he’d had an orange lily before and Izuku knew for sure he’d never seen an orange flower.
When he got home, he understood why she would ask - the meaning of an orange lily was hatred, or revenge. Izuku didn’t spend long dwelling on those thoughts, and had dismissed the idea entirely.
Flowers with hatred in their meaning never made their way to growing in his chest, and Izuku wonders if his faith in Kacchan since childhood truly is that strong.
Another cough, and he hacks up a little daisy petal. He tries not to laugh as he wraps the blooded tissue with a new one and pockets it before anyone could see. Kacchan glances back at him and Izuku can only smile at him.
Nothing he isn’t used to.
———
The days went on with additional training between him and Kacchan, and Izuku had been so elated by the change in pace that he’d nearly forgotten his own promise to let the feelings go. It was getting harder, and with a quick visit to the doctor, Izuku wasn’t all surprised to learn his hanahaki disease had gotten a bit worse.
“Are you spending more time with them?” The nurse asks while the doctor is out of the room, preparing himself for another trim.
Izuku nods, his cheeks burning. “It… it wasn’t my intention…”
“Your paperwork says you’ve had hanahaki since you were a small child,” she muses, holding her chin. “Is it the same person?”
“Yes…”
“That makes things difficult - normally we’d urge patients to get the surgery to uproot entirely, but… they’ve been in your life so long.”
Izuku nods, avoiding her eyes. “I… I was trying to get over him…”
He can practically feel her pity, and it makes him shrink a bit more. “Sweetheart, with the way things are going… well, you have two major flowers it seems.”
Izuku looks up at her. “Huh? But… but I only have forget-me-nots - I-I mean, sometimes I have other flowers but they’re not rooted like the forget-me-nots!”
Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “You’ve developed a second rooted flower - they’re only buds, but… they have thorns.”
Izuku shivers, immediately thinking of the one flower he feared to get, his breath catching in his throat and tickling the petals stuck there. “Wh… what color are the roses?”
“We have to trim them back to see,” the nurse explains, but there’s something about the way she looks at him that tells Izuku she has an idea what color.
What color and what meaning the flower has.
Red roses - in love.
He doesn’t get the chance to talk with her more, the doctor returning with the supplies and a second nurse they’ll need to help through the trimming process. Izuku lies back and tries not to panic.
In a way, he’d known he was in love. Forget-me-nots are a gentle sort of passion, and the idea of true love feels pure and real. To have red roses growing in his chest now, he shouldn’t be so surprised.
To be fair, the only reason he never wanted roses to develop was just for the thorns - sure, they could be trimmed back and kept safe from puncturing anything, but Izuku didn’t want to chance missing a trimming appointment and causing some problems later.
Unfortunately, he now knew he’d fallen so far in love for Kacchan that nothing would stop this.
———
Kacchan sits back in the grass and sighs, chest heaving with his breaths. Izuku stares and wonders if he’d be seeing cactus flowers later.
“Are we taking a break now?” Izuku asks, doing his best to keep his breathing steady, the looming thought of a thorn puncturing his lungs if he breathes too hard. He’d certain he already would have by now, but at least his chest doesn’t feel so tight.
Kacchan nods, pushing himself back up to look at Izuku. “I can keep going, just give me a minute…”
Izuku nods, clearing his throat. He can feel a tickle there, but it’s not so bad. “Do you want your water?”
“Sure,” Kacchan huffs, falling back into the grass without a care. “Pour it on me, I’m burning…”
Izuku’s face is burning at the remark, but he doesn’t respond. He’s certain if he tries, a whole fucking cactus will come spitting out of his throat and that would be certainly worse than just the flower. He grabs the insulated bottle and brings it to Kacchan, holding it out for him.
“I said pour it on me…”
“I’m not gonna pour it on you.”
Kacchan rolls his eyes and sits up again, taking the bottle to drink from it. Izuku has to look away, the bob of his adams apple distracting. He sits down before he can think too much, clearing his throat a little to keep whatever might be there down.
The bottle is suddenly in his face.
Izuku stares at Kacchan and he simply wiggles the bottle in answer.
“Why…? I have my own bottle.”
“It’s over there and I’m getting sick of you clearing your throat like that,” Kacchan huffs, sloshing the water inside with another jiggle. “Take it.”
Izuku can’t help clearing his throat again, taking hold of the bottle with trembling fingers. “Are you sur—”
“I wouldn’t hand it to you if I wasn’t,” Kacchan scowls, flopping back to stare up at the sky. “Just drink it already.”
Izuku does, the liquid cool against his aching throat and he hums at the feeling. Once he caps the lid again, his mind catches up and he gently sets the bottle on the ground, screaming at himself to not think about the indirect kiss.
A soft breeze carries by and Izuku looks up to the clouds, falling back to stare up with Kacchan. The clouds are puffy today, with little shapes that he might just make out the shapes to if he really tries.
“Have you ever heard of this movie?” Kacchan asks suddenly, and Izuku looks over in surprise. “It’s called hana something… I don’t remember the whole title, but Ashido wants to watch it with the others tonight but it sounds stupid.”
Izuku tries to remember the name of the movie Uraraka watched a few months ago but he can’t place the title. “What’s it about?”
“Something about roses and love,” Kacchan shrugs. “I think she mentioned hanahaki but why would she wanna watch something with that stupid disease?”
Izuku shifts a little, focusing back up on the clouds. “It’s a tragic story… if it’s the one I’m thinking of, Uraraka-san watched it a little while ago - she said it made her cry.”
“Why?”
“Huh?”
“Why watch something sad?” Kacchan shakes his head. “Just watch something funny or full of action…”
Izuku snorts, “what about horror?”
“Sure, whatever. Just don’t watch something that’s meant to make you cry… why would you wanna be sad?”
“Maybe they just wanna cry but have no reason to.”
Kacchan frowns, his nose crinkling cutely. “Who feels like they need to cry?”
“I think… for some people, crying feels good. Like in the aftermath,” Izuku shrugs, looking to the clouds again. “Almost like it’s therapeutic to cry.”
“Is that why you cry so much?”
“Wh - I haven’t cried in weeks!”
“You cried the other day.”
“Well, it’s been days then!”
Kacchan laughs, and it’s a warm sounding laugh, one that has Izuku’s stomach fluttering full of butterflies and his chest filling with flowers. “Anyway, you said it was tragic? Does the character with hanahaki die?”
Izuku shrugs, swallowing down the lump of potential petals in his throat. “I dunno, Uraraka-san didn’t say. She was just talking about the rose petals and how sad it was.”
Kacchan hums, glancing away. “Roses probably suck.”
“They do.”
He looks back in surprise. “Huh?”
“I - I imagine they do,” Izuku quickly says, an awkward laugh bubbling from his lips as he sits up. “I met someone with hanahaki once.”
“They had roses?”
“Yeah,” Izuku rubs the back of his neck, avoiding Kacchan’s gaze. “They said they had to get the thorns trimmed to ensure things wouldn’t get ripped up inside of them.”
“Rose thorns aren’t that pointy,” Kacchan says, sitting up as well, “you’d have to let them get really overgrown for that.”
“Yeah, well,” Izuku shrugs, smiling in what he hopes is a casual way, “sometimes you can’t help it.”
Kacchan stares, looking at him oddly. “Deku… do you—”
“Let’s get back to training,” Izuku says hurriedly, rolling his shoulders and moving back to the field. “I promise I’ll catch you this time!”
Kacchan doesn’t question him, nor does he try to bring hanahaki up again after this.
That night, only two petals surface in all of his coughs - a yellow camellia and a gardenia. Longing and secret love.
His coughs become fewer and far between during the weeks that follow, and soon Izuku finds it rare to see the little forget-me-nots bloodied in his hold. Ripped rose petals surface every now and then, but Izuku doesn’t worry about them.
He spends his time focused on school, on training, on potential missions with his part time internship. He still hangs out with his friends, training with Kacchan, studying with those in the class who struggle on certain subjects. Everything is normal.
Better than normal - Izuku is feeling more and more excited by each passing day. His heart hammers in his chest, and his cheeks burn, but somehow spending time with Kacchan isn’t like what it used to be.
Even his actions have become more gentle, and Izuku is certain he’s seeing things when he catches Kacchan looking at him every now and then. It has to be his imagination - his mind playing tricks - because things are normal. Things are as they always were.
Only better.
Izuku hasn’t changed a single thing about his day to day life, so what was making him feel so different?
“You seem a lot happier lately, Deku-kun,” Uraraka says suddenly one day, the leaves outside slowly changing color.
Izuku chuckles. “In what way?”
“I dunno,” she puffs her cheeks and narrows her eyes as she considers him. “Just… happier…”
“I see… that’s good then, huh?”
Uraraka hums, a small smile reaching her lips. “Have you gotten over the cold you had?”
Izuku blinks, a little lost. “Huh?”
“You were coughing a lot the other day,” she grins, “well, I guess it was a month ago now, huh?”
Izuku tries to think of the last time he coughed up petals. “W-well…”
“You and Bakugou-kun seem to be getting along better, too!” She’s practically beaming now, and Izuku is feeling a little dizzy from the sudden swing of topic changes.
“Oh, I just—“
“I’m happy for you, Deku-kun.” Her hand clamps warmly and firmly onto his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
“What does Ka—“
“Anyway, can you explain this problem to me again?” Uraraka suddenly swings her book around and Izuku sighs, but he lets his confusion go in favor of helping her with math.
When that monthly trim comes up, Izuku worriedly looks between the doctor and nurse as they stare at the x-ray in confusion.
“Where did they go?” The doctor asks, looking to Izuku.
Izuku stares back. “Huh?”
“The flowers,” the doctor explains, “they’re no longer rooted.”
Izuku’s heart races, his breath catching in his throat. “But… but I’m still—”
“Well, there’s still some flowers,” the doctor hurries to say, “but… there’s no roots in your chest.”
Izuku feels cold. His chest feels heavy and he can’t keep the cough back now. He heaves, and the doctor and nurse help him through it. He feels the wet slap of bloodied petals hitting the crook of his arm, and once he finally gets hold of his breathing and is able to stop, he pulls back and looks at the flowers.
“Roses and forget-me-nots,” the nurse notes, “they must be all that’s left.”
“We’ll get a proper look,” the doctor insists when he sees Izuku’s distress, “we’ll go as planned and begin the trimming, but if there’s nothing to trim, we may just remove the last of the flowers floating around your chest cavity. At least then you won’t be coughing as much.”
He’s smiling, but Izuku isn’t sure how he should feel about this development. Izuku doesn’t say anything however, and they proceed with putting him under for the trimming surgery.
When he awakens, it’s to their smiling faces. “Fantastic news, Midroiya! It seems you’ve been cured of your hanahaki - we were able to take out the last remaining flowers without damaging your nervous system, and there were no roots remaining.”
Izuku gapes at them. “But… how?”
The nurse is quick to answer. “You said you were spending more time with your love, right?! Then - then surely he’s returned your—”
“No,” Izuku shakes his head, a familiar swell in his chest building.
“N-no…?”
“Kacchan… Kacchan can’t feel the same way,” Izuku mumbles, staring down at his hands. “I - he doesn’t - there has to be another reason.”
The nurse stares with obvious confusion. Izuku stares back, his heart beginning to race at the implications. The doctor clicks his tongue, humming thoughtfully when Izuku turns to him.
“It’s possible then… maybe you have gotten over your feelings for this Kacchan.” The doctor frowns, his brow furrowing. “But… the last of your flowers were roses and forget-me-nots - it didn’t seem as though you were getting any closer to moving on.”
Izuku bites his bottom lip and nods, considering the possibility. “I, well, I was trying to get over him… but Kacchan wouldn’t - I just… it’s complicated.”
The doctor smiles sadly. “From your file, it certainly sounds complicated.”
“It doesn’t hurt to ask him,” the nurse adds just before she lights up. “Oh! And the flowers, they were perfectly intact and we were able to rinse them off from being all jumbled up inside of you - would you like them?”
Izuku feels his cheeks burn. “Oh, uh… sure?”
She smiles brightly, turning to grab a simple vase filled with roses and forget-me-nots. There seems to be some extra greens, and she laughs a little when she notices the confusion on Izuku’s face. “There’s a little shop here that does arrangements for anyone who would like to buy flowers for their loved ones while they stay overnight in the hospital - I hope that’s okay?”
“Yeah,” Izuku breathes, taking the vase from her and finally seeing his flowers up close and clean of any blood.
There aren’t many left, just as they’d said, but Izuku is happy to note there are still at least five roses and several little forget-me-nots to make the bouquet look more complete. The roses are a vibrant red and fully bloomed, soft and delicate despite the short stems filled with thorns. Between the roses are soft, little, forget-me-not blues, accenting the passionate color. Izuku feels a warmth in his chest.
“Thank you…”
“You should show them to him,” she whispers, bubbly voice becoming hushed and setting Izuku’s face ablaze once more.
“Huh?!”
The doctor laughs, placing a gentle hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “Don’t mind her, Midoriya. She’s just a bit of a romantic - you can do whatever you’d like with those flowers.”
Izuku nods, looking back down to the vase.
The flowers are beautiful, even if they once sat heavy in his chest and threatened his life. He can’t help but look back to them when filling out the final paperwork, or staring as he returns to the dorms for a weekend of homework and training. The train jostles with all the other people, but no one pays him any mind and Izuku keeps his focus on the flowers.
It’s easier to think that he’s gotten over Kacchan. It’s better to not get his hopes up, simply for the very fact that if he did get over Kacchan, thinking his love has been returned could trick him back into the state he was before.
He could end up giving himself hanahaki again.
Izuku takes a deep breath - for once in the past few months without worry of where the thorns are - and smiles at the sweet flowers.
They were beautiful, even if they represented a love he no longer felt.
And yet, the very thought of Kacchan has his heart sputtering in a cascade of emotions and Izuku shudders from how warm he feels despite the cold outside.
He carries the vase safely in front of him, glancing down to the delicate petals as he walks through campus and back to the dorms. He’s not surprised by how many people are downstairs studying around the couches and coffee table; all the girls, along with several of the guys, were all downstairs when he walks through the doors and they happily greet him from the couches.
The vase of flowers doesn’t escape their notice.
“What cha got there, Midoriya?” Kaminari calls and the girls all coo.
“Those are so pretty, Deku-kun!”
“What’s the occasion?”
“Who are they for, Midoriya-chan?”
“I thought you went to a doctors appointment?” Todoroki frowns as he moves closer, staring at the flowers. “Where did you get those?”
Izuku shrugs, holding the vase up as a few of the others gather around. “Just a gift from the doctors - I guess I was a good patient.”
“What a lovely bouquet,” Yaoyorozu sighs, leaning towards the flowers to sniff them. “Red roses mean love, and forget-me-nots are for true love. Maybe one of the nurses admired you?”
Hagakure and Ashido gasp and coo at the thought, hugging Yaoyorozu and making her giggle. “That’s so cute!”
“Hey, YaoMomo, you should teach me flower language!”
“Oh, yes, I wanna know flower language!”
Yaoyorozu blushes, shaking her head, “I only know a few general flowers, I’m afraid…”
The two bubbly girls nearly deflate when Aoyama chuckles. He strikes a pose when they look over to him in question. “I certainly know them all!”
Hagakure and Ashido cheer, hurrying over to him and asking about several flowers they both love. Yaoyorozu hurries after them, trying to quiet them when it becomes obvious Aoyama is a little overwhelmed.
“They are very beautiful, Deku-kun,” Uraraka says, making Izuku jump when he realizes she’s beside him. “Did you know they meant those things?”
“Sort of,” Izuku laughs, shrugging a little. “I’m just trying to figure out what to do with them.”
Uraraka smiles, glancing over to the group that’s now laughing about something else. “If someone made me feel what those flowers mean, I’d give it to them.”
“Oh, but… I don’t really—“
“Deku-kun?” Uraraka turns back to him, her smile a little sad. “You weren’t very good about hiding it.”
Izuku gapes at her.
“I mean, I don’t think anyone else noticed, but… ever since I mentioned that movie with hanahaki, I always figured,” she shrugs, biting her lip as she considers her words. When she settles on what to say, she meets his gaze again. “Do you still remember him?”
Izuku shivers at the question. “Who?”
“Bakugou-kun.”
His mouth feels dry and his heart hammers at the name.
Uraraka looks worried as he hesitates. “Deku-kun…?”
“Wh-what about Kacchan?”
Her face lights up, softening from any worry she might have had. “So you didn’t get them uprooted?”
“I don’t—“
“It’s okay,” she hurries to say, laughing a bit, “I thought that the flowers being like that meant you did, but I couldn’t imagine you would let your memories of him go that easily.”
Izuku gulps, uncertain of what to say.
“He’s up in his room,” Uraraka’s eyes are bright, the flush of her cheeks getting a little darker. “I bet he’d like to see the flowers.”
Izuku looks at the roses and forget-me-nots and can’t help but silently disagree. Why would anyone want to see the flowers created by the love they could not return? Flowers that were once threatening another person just because they had deep set emotions for them?
Uraraka doesn’t say anything more, she simply pats his shoulder gently and returns to the couches where the others were. Izuku stares after her, considering his options.
He no longer has hanahaki, the doctor cleared him. But does he still have feelings for Kacchan?
Izuku thought he did, but this would mean that Kacchan returns his - no. No, he couldn’t have. Kacchan and Izuku are rivals, childhood friends, and have a strained relationship at best.
It must have been his feelings that changed then. Izuku glances at the flowers once more and feels his face grow warm at the thought of presenting them to Kacchan.
He doesn’t waste another second of thinking about it, turning to the stairs and practically sprinting with his full cowl at 5% up to the fourth floor. Izuku slips along the floor in his attempt to stop, catching himself on the door he meant to stop at. He winces to himself when his body knocks against it, but he’s standing upright and relatively normal before it can open.
Kacchan peeks through the crack when he initially pulls his door open, and swings it wide once he sees its Izuku. “What do you want?”
Izuku’s heart thuds a little faster at the question. It was a simple question, one that usually had a bit of an edge to his tone, but for once, Kacchan sounds… pleasant. Izuku gulps and looks at the flowers in his hand.
Kacchan looks as well.
He isn’t sure what to say, but Izuku can feel his heart rate picking up, can feel his face burning, and for a moment, he expects his throat to tickle and burn until he’s hacking up petals.
Nothing comes however. He knows it won’t.
“What’s with the flowers, Deku?” Kacchan’s voice is uncharacteristically soft, and Izuku drags his gaze back up to stare into the scarlet eyes he’s loved for over a decade.
He still loves them.
He still loves Kacchan.
And he isn’t puking up flowers.
“Why am I not puking up flowers anymore?”
He didn’t even mean to say that out loud - then again, he usually does mumble his thoughts. Only this time, Izuku knows that it was said perfectly loud and clear and there is no avoiding the question.
Kacchan blinks once. Twice. His jaw hangs a little and his eyes go wide.
“What?” Kacchan asks.
“What?” Izuku mimicks.
They stare at one another, and Izuku watches as a lovely shade of red takes over Kacchan’s face.
“Do… do you have a crush on me?” Izuku asks instead, licking his lips as his throat goes dry. “Cause, I mean, I’m… I’m not puking up flowers anymore and I—“
“No,” Kacchan shakes his head slowly, gaze dropping to the roses and forget-me-nots.
Izuku doesn’t believe him. “Are you sure?”
“I don’t have a crush on you,” Kacchan huffs, focusing back on Izuku’s face. “I’m pretty sure you’re in love with me.”
Izuku frowns, brow furrowing. “Well,” he wiggles the vase a little, “I mean, yeah, but that’s not—“
“And I’m in love with you, too.”
Izuku shivers at the words. His voice cracks and a long, odd sound comes from him. Kacchan’s eyes widen at the sound before he grimaces, and Izuku shuts his mouth immediately, face on fire at this point. Kacchan relaxes, stepping forward past his doorway.
“H-how long have you known…?” Izuku whispers, trembling when Kacchan’s hands touch his, holding the vase between them. Kacchan’s eyes are focused on the roses and forget-me-nots, and Izuku can only think about how warm and rough his hands feel against his own.
Kacchan’s stepping even closer, and his gaze flicks up to meet Izuku’s. “About the hanahaki? I had some theories, but… this just kinda confirmed them.”
Izuku nods slowly, frozen in place the closer Kacchan gets. “A-and… about your feelings?”
Kacchan smirks. “About a month.”
His breath is ghosting over Izuku’s lips. Izuku chews on his bottom lip, looking down to Kacchan’s mouth and back up to his eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t know who your hanahaki was for until now.”
Izuku chuckles, or at least he tries to - he can barely make a sound as his heart pounds and tries to climb up out of his throat. “Kacchan…?”
“Hm?”
“I love yo—“
Kacchan hums, kissing Izuku into silence.