It had become a silent rule amongst the team to never ask about the scar that ran along Shindou's chest. The mark could only be seen briefly during the moments he changed in and out of uniforms. He didn't try to hide it, but he never tried to show it off either. Yet, most of the team was aware of it by now.

Guesses were made, almost like a game, to try and determine what had happened and what had caused it. An accident was the usual one, but each one blurted out was different. Some would say a nasty truck accident, another a stab wound, or even a bad fall within his own home.

Asking his best friend for an answer never proved to be helpful. The secret was kept as everyone who asked was met with the same response.

"It's not my story to tell."

So, they were left to their imaginations. To continue this guessing game without daring to ask in fear it might be offensive or worse.

But, one boy would change that.

At first, Tsurugi had no interest in the wound. He had a few of his own here and there, but nothing unusual like the one his ex-captain wore. His initial thoughts upon the sight of it were, 'must have been bad.'

Now that he was being dragged into the silly conversations of this subject with the team, he wanted to try and piece together the truth. And nothing he could think of seemed plausible.

Trying to figure it out began to bother him. He couldn't tell if he was agitated from simply being unable to find an answer or that his mind was filled with the thought of the other boy. It was the former, he'd tell himself.

"Tsurugi?"

"Hm?"

"You alright? You looked lost in thought for a moment."

"I'm fine."

Sharp eyes glance around the locker room. It felt unusually silent when only two were left inside. At least, this occurrence gave him a chance.

"Hey," he speaks, catching the pianist's attention just as he'd grabbed his shirt. "What happened there?"

Tsurugi nods his head towards him, towards his chest. Shindou's gaze falls, even if he already knew what the other was gesturing too. A hand is placed against his chest, fingers running over the scar that tainted his skin.

"You mean this, right?"

He nods.

Shindou bites his lip.

"It's…well, it's not a pleasant story."

"I don't mind. You can talk about it, if you want to."

Tsurugi left him with a way out after noticing his hesitation. Maybe the subject was too touchy. Too personal. Something just a friend or teammate shouldn't be asking about. Now he's beginning to think he shouldn't have asked.

"If you eat to know," Shindou takes in a sharp breath. "I can tell you."

The younger's eyes widen upon hearing his reply, surprised. He nods, giving him his full attention.

Shindou keeps his eyes down before having them shut. He keeps his palm against his chest, over his heart.

"When I was younger, I had a crush on a girl. She was kind and sweet, one of the few around my age in the neighborhood. And I had the silly thought that maybe she liked me to." He frowns. "It wasn't until I found out she like another boy that I…began to cough up flowers."

Brown eyes slowly open. He lifts his head up as he continues.

"They grew inside my lungs, which made it difficult to breathe. The more I thought about her with him, the more flowers seemed to be growing. It came to a point where I needed to have surgery or else they'd fill my lungs. Apparently, this condition can return if I develop another crush, so…"

Tsurugi had let out an 'oh' in response, unintentionally. He was trying to let the information sink in. About Shindou's old crush and the pain that it had caused. "Sorry. Didn't mean to pry."

"You didn't. It was my decision to answer you. I just…haven't really told anyone about it. I know how unbelievable it sounds, so you can imagine why. But, that's the truth."

"I see."

Tsurugi felt like he should say more, to offer some words of comfort, but couldn't quite find the words. Silence falls between the two as they resume their changing. Shindou is first to finish, needing to head home for his piano practice.

The younger had watched him head out the door, staring and watching it come to a slow close. The room felt emptier with him gone. He didn't like it. He wanted to leave.

But first, he needed to get rid of the problem that was scratching at his throat. That was crawling up and making his throat burn. He could feel his body try to fight against what was coming up even though it was pointless.

A hand flew to his mouth, covering it as he coughed. And coughed. And coughed until what was stuck in his throat was forced out into his hand. Removing his hand, he found a couple of blue petals with dots of red on them.

"It's not that unbelievable, you know?"