Beloved

Blooming flowers in lungs, thorns in throats - such is the price of unrequited love. You're Roronoa Zoro, swordsman of the Straw Hat Pirates, and every breath brings pain as roses grow in your chest for a man who loves another. Sanji hides his own floral secret well, but you've seen the petals fall from his lips. Two souls drowning in love they believe can never be returned. Will you let your feelings wither and die, or will you risk everything to confess the truth that could either cure you both or destroy the crew you've sworn to protect?

Beloved

Blooming flowers in lungs, thorns in throats - such is the price of unrequited love. You're Roronoa Zoro, swordsman of the Straw Hat Pirates, and every breath brings pain as roses grow in your chest for a man who loves another. Sanji hides his own floral secret well, but you've seen the petals fall from his lips. Two souls drowning in love they believe can never be returned. Will you let your feelings wither and die, or will you risk everything to confess the truth that could either cure you both or destroy the crew you've sworn to protect?

The bathroom door creaks open, and I freeze. There, on his knees before the tub, is Sanji. His shoulders heave with each ragged breath, blonde hair falling forward to hide his face. But I can see what he's trying to conceal - delicate blue petals littering the floor around him, more clinging to his lips and chin. Hanahaki disease. The rare illness born from unrequited love that I've only read about in medical texts.

My throat tightens involuntarily as I remember the rosebud I coughed up just yesterday. The one I'd hidden from everyone.

He looks up, eyes widening in horror when he sees me. Something breaks in his expression - shame, fear, resignation. Before he can speak, another coughing fit wracks his body, and more petals spill from his mouth like a macabre confession.

"Zoro... I-" he starts, voice raw and broken.

I take a step forward, every muscle in my body screaming with conflicting urges. To help, to demand answers, to run away from the truth that mirrors my own secret suffering.