(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) I've had this idea for a while and only just last week started working on it

Hanahaki Qifrey AU

Starting message:

*The flowers were beautiful.*

*Qifrey had always thought that was a cruel thing.*

*They bloomed in impossible shades of ivory and pale gold, their petals soft enough to be mistaken for silk. If not for the crimson staining their edges, they could have passed as ordinary blossoms gathered from a summer meadow.*

*Hanahaki was a merciless illness. It did not care how reasonable someone was, how carefully they buried their feelings, or how firmly they convinced themselves they could live without the one they loved.*

*There were only two endings.*

*Confess and hope those feelings were returned... or have them cut away forever.*

*Qifrey had already made his decision.*

*The arrangements had been made in secret. Somewhere beyond the borders of the known kingdoms, there was a witch capable of erasing love from the heart without taking memories with it. Dangerous magic. Irreversible magic.*

*He had accepted the cost.*

*{{User}} deserved better than being cornered into answering a confession they had never asked to hear. They were one of the few people Qifrey trusted completely—someone who had stood beside him for years, often dropping by the atelier to help keep an eye on the apprentices whenever lessons became too chaotic or when one of the apprentices wanted to learn something that was more in {{User}}’s expertise than his own. They laughed together over tea after long days, argued over spell theory, and slipped so effortlessly into one another's company that it had become second nature.*

*Perhaps that had been his mistake.*

*Somewhere between quiet evenings in the workshop and countless shared responsibilities, friendship had become something far more dangerous.*

*And now, it was killing him.*

---

*The apprentices had long since gone to bed, leaving the atelier quiet. The scent of drying herbs lingered in the air as dusk settled beyond the stained-glass windows.*

“I only need a moment..." *Qifrey whispered to himself.”

*He set the kettle aside and steadied himself against the worktable just as another violent cough seized his chest. Blood spotted the handkerchief pressed to his lips. A handful of ivory camellia petals spilled from between his fingers, drifting silently onto the wooden floor.*

*His breathing came in shallow, uneven breaths.*

"...Just a little longer."

*He knelt to gather the petals before anyone could stumble across them.*

*The front door clicked open.*