« Hanahaki Disease (花吐き病 (Japanese); 하나하키병 (Korean); 花吐病 (Chinese)) is a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear. »

(One shot; Kyoya x Madoka)

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It was another lunch; the monotony of a midday stalking his restless spirit. He could only eat without committing the sin of mentioning the ugliness of the food, since, as Kenta had told them, it is rude to hurt a girl's feelings, especially when the cook was Madoka. His vicious insistence that he wanted to do something good for them ended up being a nightmare.

The rice was burnt, the eggs raw, and the soup too tasteless, how could I avoid saying something about it? The bulging eyes of those who tasted the food seemed to be the reason for Ryo's laughs.

—And?... —Madoka, so excited to receive compliments, smiled cheerfully.

She glanced across the table admiring the boys' engaging smiles, not realizing that their disappointments were evidence of their comments.

—How long did it take you to do it? —Gingka asked, swallowing quickly before having any side effects.

—One hour.

Ryo suppressed a laugh, from his desk, hid in some papers, gagging the taunts.

—Ah ... Mister Ryo, don't you want to try and give Madoka your opinion?— With apparent discomfort, Kenta turned to the formal man.

—I already ate, thanks —when he winked, he suggested how smart he was.

He had seen her in the kitchen, trying her best, and the scent didn't like him at all. He even thought there was a fire in the room. Obviously he did not want to try that lunch and therefore, he hurried to eat before -before being left with a stomach ache-. Madoka cooks very well, but she thought maybe she didn't know how to make the recipe, and that surprised his. I should ask her about it later.

Madoka already wanted her friends' opinion but they had only one thing to say: «Learn to cook this recipe». With her apron and colored bandages on her little hands, she insisted that they give her an answer.

—Don't tell me what is so delicious that they don't even have words,— she laughed very jovially.

Kyoya dropped the spoon disdainfully, turning his eyes away.

—No, I have no words... —He crossed his arms, tired of acting, clucking his tongue— If you want me to tell you what I think, don't start crying later ... —He will be cruel with the truth and the blame would never appear on it.

The boys, who were sitting to one side, recognized that those words were going to call sadness. She needed the truth but if that came with insults, she better stay with the illusion.

Yuki stood up suddenly, considering that he had to speak before someone ended up crying.

—Miss Madoka! —He hurried over Kyoya— your food is delicious! If you want next time I help you so you don't have so much work! —A blush crept onto her cheeks, revealing how embarrassed and nervous his was.

The silence maintained it stay in the others. Amazed, they decided to keep quiet and observe the scene. It was not what they expected although it would do some good.

—It seems that Yuki finally showed that he feels ... Good luck helping her — Ryo thought, smiling very pleased with the solidarity of that boy.

Madoka widened her gesture from ear to ear, nodded so many times that it seemed like her head was going to drop.

—Yes! Of course!

Gingka and Kenta lay happy that at least the next meal would not be as deadly as the first.

Kyoya was another story, he turned full of hostility towards Yuki, and he didn't wait to show what he thought.

—Hey! —He called the glasses boy, Yuki saw him with apparent fear— what do you think you do? —Kyoya got to his feet, almost knocking the chair aside.

—N-Nothing! —Yuki was shaking her hands to deny —I just wanted to help ... Besides, Miss Mado--

—It is obvious that you just want to be with her —Kyoya thoughtlessly broke out. Or it seemed to have been so.

By the time the others realized that he spoke, they turned and looked at him in complete awe. Did his really say that? A dangerous question. The one with glasses wanted to defend himself.

—Ah ... But I want to help her ... —The frown showed on Yuki slightly. A pinch of courage that showed— It is bad?

It was the most courageous thing he had ever done, and saving the world was already on him list. Other than that he admired the other legendary Bladers, including that hostile boy. But that bravery did not last, when Kyoya no longer had anyone to support him and snatched the chair from his place.

—Well! Enjoy poisoning each other —He ended in a blow to the table, about to break it.

When Kyoya suddenly spoke, he withdrew growling more than usual. He was heard taking steps of a giant until the floor stopped shaking after a few seconds later. The worst was over, for now.

Soon the others did not turn the matter so much, because he had a great habit of exploiting with the most monotonous things came him way. And every time someone came with the intention of helping him, he would no longer count it. It was a routine, but he got used to it.

Kyoya had gone to a park, far, far away from anyone. At least managing to avoid chatting with people who occasionally approached him to ask for an autograph or a photo. His life as a Legendary Blader brought him many surprises.

Disconnected from reality, under a tree, he focused on calming ... "That". It was not anger, something had already been lowered on his way there. So what did I feel? A pain in the chest, perhaps from Madoka's food.

He looked to the sides; his presence seemed to be the only one in that part. He thought he was too far from the entrance. And again, the pain scorched his skin.

«—-Your food is delicious! I would like to help you next time! »

I was just going to help her, nothing more. The reason for worrying was not logical, that was driving him crazy.

«—I just want to help her ... It is bad?»

Exactly, what was wrong with the two preparing food together? Without hesitation, he clenched her fangs for the answer. He quickly shook his foot because rage covered him.

—Those fools... —Thanks to the silence of her surroundings, he could howl the air and nobody would sue for that—. Why am I so interested? Not that the matter was important ... Madoka cooks horrible, will do well a couple of classes.

The restlessness, at its best, showing itself in the boy. And simply, she was in a bad mood, with anger, envy... Jealousy.

—Jealousy? —he reflected on what the word was means— I don't feel jealous of Yuki... —he refused, trying to remove that option.

But there would be no more good explanations, and if it existed, he couldn't recognize it as important.

His head ached, the effect of his frustration exceeded. Now the singing of the birds bothered him, it seemed that they mocked his mixed feelings.

—That silly girl ... I hate her too much...

He remembered a time when the two of them were alone. The girl mechanic fixed Fang Leone since the boy, king of the beasts, believed that he could endure the training. And it is that, six hours struggling with anything that came his way, he wore out his bey without hesitation.

Then he arrived with Madoka as if nothing had happened, throwing Leone on the table while she did other business.

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—Woah! Kyoya! —It didn't take long for her to pick up the poor bey to examine patiently—. What have you been doing!?" This is terrible!

—The usual —that was the sign that the fighting had gotten out of control.

Stealing a lot of courage, she scolded him for fifteen long minutes letting him know of his mistakes; that he was always clumsy, of him inability to understand empathy of others, him rebellion, that this and that. A parallel routine of husband and wife.

In the end he ended up sitting up and enduring the scold that he threw at her more than once. He stood at one end of the table to check on Leone's repair, just as a precaution.

Amano struggled to regain the shine of the bey, Tategami watched any procedure he performed and so on. Both there in the workshop, sometimes without company while at other times, one of they friends came to chat with the young lady.

This time, the silence of the two of them was a perfect piece of music. Singing chants in the comforting, where the conversations would not enter since they would ruin the fragile act of the comfort of both.

The girl was looking for pieces that managed to fit with those of the bey, then proceeded to place them, taking full care of all the work. A couple of times she cursed under her breath for not being able to do something. So focused was she on the repair that she didn't notice Kyoya looking her.

It would be normal to watch two seconds and look away somewhere else; he did not. He was like feeling hypnotized, puzzled by any sweet gesture she outlined. A simple movement of her face, considered it the most entertaining in the world. From when she subtly wrinkled her nose, to the wiggling of her eyelashes causing a hurricane.

Hiding half of her face between him arms resting on the table, watched him partner's actions. How strange it seemed to him when he went from seeing what was happening to ending up looking at her all afternoon.

But what was he doing?

—Kyoya?

At the voice, he jumped out of his seat, noting Madoka's confusion greatly.

—What? —He covered his heart attack in the aggressive tone he knew how to simulate.

—No, nothing ... —The girl laughed apparently nervously, returning to her work.

Dammit.

Would she have seen him?

—If you're going to see this, please don't look at me that way, you're a little scary! —Another carefree laugh from her.

—Damn, damn, damn... —He thought. He squeezed his hand and a bead of sweat ran down his forehead— I wasn't looking at you so you know, don't be silly...

Kyoya was not going to contradict that she noticed. Since when did he see her like this? In rare moments she would get lost and notice the sparkling of her eyes.

—Not! I must not look at her! —He repeated in him mind—. She's not even that pretty.

It was not his duty. He always answered curtly, they were not the closest of the group and they barely crossed words related to the beyblade. So, he intended to avoid any contact beyond Labor-Beyblade. He was also not a teacher for the talks, he had a couple of conversations with Benkei, Nile and Demure.

—When are you going to finish? —He said with an extremely frown, still hidden in his arms—. I've been here a long time...

—Oh, excuse me Lord King... —Madoka defended herself. She has never given him the pleasure of embittering her life because of idiocy—. You know I have other jobs, right? You're not the only one who comes to ask me fix beys.

Kyoya placed his hand holding his chin, while the elbow rested on the table. Her leg indicated in quick movements about the deep despair he felt. I couldn't ask for silence, after all he started to complain.

—Luckily the pieces I always need can be given to me by the WBBA... which you don't appreciate at all! —Although she complained, she kept her focus on repairing.

—Stop scolding me, it's not like I'm demanding too much of you —finally, looking away, he answered without shame.

The girl sighed overwhelmed, arguing with him leads to nothing. And it is the last straw when he explodes and goes crazy.

Madoka, luckily or routinely, knew how to have him punished, at least she would manage to control him in moments where he demanded roars to do what he wanted, while she scolded him to calm down. The indomitable lion only required someone who reiterated her bad habits and reprimanded him.

Without realizing it, Yuki had already entered with Madoka's laptop, since she asked him to fix it. Of course the mechanics put the instruments aside to make room for the boy. What's more, they began to talk becoming oblivious to Kyoya's incandescent gazes.

—And here is an update, you can use it without problem since it has more space than the previous one —Yuki explained, totally happy, guiding him finger on the screen.

—I think it's great! —Madoka thanked in an angelic gesture which she dedicated to Yuki— You are very good at computers.

—W-well! Is that!..

A blush on her adorable cheeks appeared. The brown-haired girl burst out laughing knowing how shy Yuki could be in some cases. It was the easiest task to do. She doesn't spend as much to make him blush and turn him into a tomato. At the end she laughs most pleasantly.

Meanwhile, Kyoya snorted. Frustrated and heartless, as if to smash the table in just a divine blink of that girl. Due to the lateness of the young woman, and the other boy interrupting the work; however, there could be a third reason to hate all of that. And he didn't want to accept it.

And they kept talking, not paying much attention to the green-haired man.

—If you're going to be talking, I'd better be going now... —He punched the wood in order to steal their attention. Which he got.

Yuki literally jumped out of his place. Getting used to it would cost his a lot of heart attacks.

—But Leone isn't ready yet —for the mechanical girl, that rebellion and impatience was not new.

Kyoya was already at the top of the stairs. He couldn't see the two of them together, he just couldn't.

Every time they showed interest in each other, Tategami's heart danced among imaginary flames. It was literally, him lungs and throat were scorched with fire from a strange hell. So being alone became the cure he knew, the punishment he dared to accept. Being alone, with no one, excluded from the warmth of a friendship, would be enough to ease his pain.

—What happened? —Yuki whispered, approaching the wall as a precaution.

—He is always like this ... —Madoka clarified without giving it importance "And you have not seen how he behaved today." Him attitude makes me so furious ... Sometimes he has a terrifying look.

At that, Kyoya came down the steps at high speed only to complain.

—How many times do I have to say it !? I wasn't looking at you! —Him screams were accompanied by the fury on her face. The scowl crept into him like a mark on fire.

Without hesitation, the girl hid behind Yuki. Although the normality of watching Kyoya get out of control was natural, sometimes it did so unexpectedly and suddenly, intimidating even the air that dared to cross him face.

—Fools... —He realized his mistake, then lowered his voice tone— It's not that I don't trust you, I just sometimes worry about--

He watched as both boys were stunned, their eyes more open than he could ever appreciate. What did he say? He was worried about that strange reaction, he said what he really felt ... Trust? Sure, because it's true. She was the only one he would trust to repair his bey.

Out of curiosity, he touched his own cheeks at that moment and at the slightest touch, his fingers burned like he would have touched lava. He cursed, whispered the insults that were known and more. His cheeks were red, his unfortunate cheeks were red.

—K-Kyoya? —The girl called, shocked by such a scene that her words couldn't be pronounced well.

The ninth wonder of the world; Kyoya flushed.

He did not know how she could get out of there. He ran away so frustrated that he gnashed his teeth even when a shocked Gingka saw him kick the door. Of all the stupid people in the cosmos, they had to see it that way, showing the side that he didn't even know.

Weak, there was no other description to give him. So he never liked being friendly. The voices in his head laughed in infernal tones, the worst thing is that they dedicated songs to him, instilling in him the truth. Weak, weak, weak.

And then there he was, running at full speed on the streets. Covering his flushed face between his arm. The despair, owning he legs. The other hand clung to his shirt, where his heart beat like a drum, and an uneasiness that drowned him from his lungs. He wanted to vomit, fast.

It was being cornered. Should he accept that he felt something seeing the two of them together? Never! It was not jealousy.

He had arrived at WBBA headquarters without taking the luxury of knowing where else to go. He didn't wait that long to get on and brake to the bathroom. I needed to vomit urgently, for some reason.

—Brother Kyoya! —Benkei was down the same hallways. But his joy did not persist— Ah! What happened? You look terrible!

He no longer hid his cheeks, now it was his mouth that begged to throw everything inside. Benkei did not hesitate to help him.

At first when the door closed, he didn't know if he was choking in there. The guttural of his sounds terrified the tall boy, who, frightened, asked Ryo for help in case the paramedics did not arrive. It is that from the outside it seemed that someone was dying in there.

—Kyoya? Are you-- — Ryo was interrupted by more thumping and coughing noises. For a moment he thought he lost a lung —. You're good?

—I do not need help! —Kyoya's gaunt, raspy voice gave the signal that he wanted to be dragged to death soon and end such suffering— I'm fine.

"I'm fine", just that.

Ryo had to understand that he would never leave that pride.

As Kyoya lay sprawled like a dirty rag on the floor, Benkei made sure that another one didn't bother his best friend.

Poor Kyoya coughed, having a brutal pain in his throat as he risked doing so. He had leaned against the wall sitting on the floor, which only gave him the cold he could deserve. Undone, tired. Completely dizzy and groggy, he didn't want to see what was in the sink again.

He did not remember what he ate that day, but he was sure it was not flowers.

—And what did he eat to make him sick?

—I'm sure it wasn't the four-story ice cream of this morning —Benkei said to concerned Ryo.

—You need to diet, guys.

Kyoya listened from the bathroom as they both discussed a healthy food routine, at the same time, the green-haired man want to die to undo that memory in the water. The horror of knowing that what he vomited was not a lunch, the despair of knowing an abysmal pain when seeing a girl. He didn't want to tell someone close, even if a cluster bloomed in him throat.

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Remembering the first day of his doom, he hunched over his knees. Nausea flooded him senses like so many moments. He returned to the present, he was alone under a tree, and the pink petals screeched as they fell from his chest.

Again, he arched. Until a floral came out of his mouth, the burning ceased. He stared in terror at that stormy vivid color that represented the beauty of flowers. Why did he vomit petals every time he was dizzy and in pain? He made a valiant test of shoving a fork down his throat to a point where he took dinner out of his system, and it was dinner. That thing about flowers happened when Madoka and Yuki laughed, played, talked and hugged.

He was going to die somehow where he knew that not only are thorns deadly. And that the shade of pink is not considered very tender. Because thinking about that color, he imagined a mechanical girl dancing in her thoughts dressed like this.

It had already been dark in the blink of an eye, the day ended for Kyoya. He did not want to see anyone, nor did he want to meet an idiot who wanted to fight. he wanted no more, he begged for a stale night full of blackness and silence. That was all him head was demanding of him.

Feeling like a tiny inert stone became normal to him because of the incandescent city. And he no longer wanted to argue with another, coughing flowers uncontrollably made him pharynx worse.

He became part of the routine, luckily no one noticed or asked about her rare illness. And if so, it would roundly deny the evidence. Why tell others about your problems if he know how to take care of himself? It would take less time to accept him short life than taking the benevolence of others.

—See you tomorrow, Yuki! —Madoka's clear voice faded the threads of memories that lay over Kyoya. Who quickly looked up.

—Sure, until tomorrow... Miss Madoka —the boy with glasses had awkwardly said goodbye to the girl in B-Pit.

He did not know which street he crossed to reach that place, if he did not even know what time it was.

The cold of a tender night spread. It flooded him bones so much that he wasn't interested in coughing, much less that both boys didn't realize he was there.

—Okay —he repeated as usual with the warm voice of him mind—. Never mind. They're both doing nothing —he lied to himself.

He would have preferred the roots of him lungs to grow at him feet, embedding him fragile senses in the ground. But once the scene began, he knew what words his death left him after that.

Madoka placed a tender kiss on Yuki's red cheek. The gleam that radiated from her eyes after the mechanic girl's affable smile was worth a monument. Nothing but a love growing as much as the pain in Kyoya's chest. That was the sign that the impossible love that he denied so much, would not bear fruit.

He started to refuse, followed by involuntary coughing without end, ripping him throat apart. He eyes were still in him sockets at the whim of making him suffer by admiring that two of them together. The vanquished pieces of him world fell into him surroundings, reminding him that he had sought it for himself. And he did not accept it despite what happened, it could not be that ... Since when did he have these guilty feelings for Madoka?

He covered her mouth in an alarmed response after appreciating the petals falling and falling; lots of flowers falling to the ground in the middle of the street. It hurt. It burned, a suffering made to Tategami. But flowers kept growing that would even become a garden of him own pain. He began to fade as he almost fell to his knees on the sidewalk. He drowned in beautiful petals, in him own blinding pride.

What came later were just clumsy pieces of memories: First Madoka and Yuki helping him, begging for his name, then pink everywhere. The same one that in detail paraded in a beautiful necklace of the chestnut girl. He had reason to continue hating that rose that brought up bad memories many times.

The new color submerged him in black after suddenly experiencing great calm. The lack of oxygen in the brain affected him until he was unconscious. Better that it be so, in the homey corners of unconsciousness.

By chance, he dreamed of the day that feelings began to surface. Like the floral in her lungs: Madoka took care of him when he was badly hurt. He was not in the habit of being able to depend on someone, let alone such an adorable girl.

—I told you, it's no problem doing it —she remarked for the tenth time, holding up a new package of bandages—. Why are you so like this, Kyoya? You should learn to trust someone, right?

What if those words had never left her lips, or if the kindness of the mechanical girl had had no compassion for such a idiot? Regretful he was for not having escaped those sentiments, because he could not be who she deserved. He was the indomitable beast, an idiot fed up with pride. Sometimes he wanted to be clinging to that temperamental girl because of her tenderness, her affection, her innocent eyes when smiling at her and because she endured his ridiculousness. He would like to dedicate a "Thank you for everything".

But they were not suitable moments for it.

They were soon in the hospital. Kyoya being helped by doctors, while petunias flowers came out even through his nose. That image would be captured as a burning nail in Madoka's mind forever, it would always be a nightmare when looking at the gift of that blader that lay in her hand.

In the waiting room, Yuki trembled in terror beside Amano. She still trembled but worse, her legs would make her fall at any moment. And a flower sprinkled with drops of blood, which Kyoya had previously given her on the way to the hospital, was the reason for her tears. He gave a flower for another flower, the phrase that cut his pride to take it to sad reality.

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