Chapter Text
Common daisies, or bellis perennis, are known for their distinctive yellow centres and multitudes of white petals, sometimes tinged dark pink as they grow. Like forget-me-nots, they are quite small, and are considered to be weeds due to the way they easily spread.
Daisies are wholly edible, meaning they can be foraged by those who are starving, though they do not offer a filling experience. Bellis are more commonly used by young children globally to create daisy chains, or nostalgic adults attempting to recreate memories they don’t really remember in the first place.
— — — — — — — — – — — — – – – – –
Cheng Xiaoshi had stopped sleeping since their visit to the hospital. He’d hardly slept that day either, dark circles already prominent as he’d tried to encourage Lu Guang to finish his meal, to get something in his ailing body.
They'd left after Dr. Ma called in a medication change for Lu Guang, on her day off, though Cheng Xiaoshi had been grumbling to himself and taking notes the entire time.
Upped dosages on his herbicides and oral bronchodilators, and a promise to see Lu Guang in her office twice a week now. Taking this opportunity to adjust her methods, the doctor had also made Cheng Xiaoshi promise her something over the phone.
He’d mumbled an agreement to her, though Lu Guang could see him crossing his fingers behind his back.
Childish.
Lu Guang was starting to get worried about Cheng Xiaoshi. The way he’d transformed into a completely new person before his eyes, trying to change something that was inevitable. He’d tried to stoop down to Cheng Xiaoshi’s level, nagging between rounds of coughing and more-than-necessary naps, but he denied Lu Guang’s allegations as they came.
His dark circles? The result of a bad dream. His weight loss? Lu Guang was just seeing things.
They had the same conversations now, all day, everyday. Cyclical in a way Lu Guang wasn't used to. Cheng Xiaoshi nagged, usually accompanied by some caring object like Lu Guang’s medicine or blankets or some form of food. Lu Guang pestered back, though he got progressively more frustrated as his worries fell on deaf ears.
Their lives were full of worry now, though Lu Guang was on the losing side of all of it.
Every night when Lu Guang crawled up to his bed, with his roommate hovering closely behind him in ever-growing likelihood that he fell and hurt himself more than he already had.
“You should sleep on the bottom bunk.” Cheng Xiaoshi nagged, hands hovering millimeters from Lu Guang's back ready to catch him.
“I like my bed,” Lu Guang said between pants, clinging to a rung, already winded after just three steps. “Plus, you'll probably fall down if I let you sleep up here,”
“Look who's talking,” Cheng Xiaoshi muttered.
Over and over again.
Lu Guang’s days were full of medicine and sleep. Herbicides, iron supplements, bronchodilators, and a ginger candy chew every night as a reward for Lu Guang's minimal efforts to keep himself alive.
Over and over again.
And right as his eyes started to fall closed, as his chest heaved and tried to get used to the thin air surrounding his bed, a light that shone from below him.
Cheng Xiaoshi's sigh, a pen clicking, and the sound of a notebook being flipped open and turned to a new page.
And Lu Guang fell into darkness. Wracked with guilt and hurt.
Over and over again.
He’d never seen Cheng Xiaoshi take so many notes. Even in school the boy used to copy off of Lu Guang or Qiao Ling, always insisting that note taking did nothing but distract him. Now he was constantly writing things down.
Information about vitamins that Lu Guang’s body was missing, medications he should be put on, questions for Dr. Ma, different short term remedies and palliative measures he got from forums online.
It was like they’d swapped roles because of this all. Because Lu Guang loved more than his body could handle.
He’d grit his teeth when he thought of it, swallowing harshly to force down the bundle of flowers that inevitably came with the realization. He was supposed to be the one taking care of Cheng Xiaoshi. Chasing after him to eat when he spent his whole day in the developing room, telling him to read a book instead of ruining his eyes staring at a phone screen.
Now he couldn’t do much more than rot slowly, lack of oxygen rendering him slow and careful.
He and Cheng Xiaoshi were watching each other deteriorate, and neither could do anything about it.
– – – – – – – – – — – – – — — — — —
Lu Guang officially lost his top bunk privileges a month after he was diagnosed.
Cheng Xiaoshi had walked into their room, finding Lu Guang clinging to the ladder. He’d stubbornly been holding on for half-an-hour, rasping and wheezing, a waterfall of forget-me-nots spilling as he failed to clear his throat.
One second, the bed was falling away from Lu Guang, and the floor was flying towards him. The next, he’d woken up in Cheng Xiaoshi’s bed, his partner in the midst of checking his temperature and chastising him about not calling for help.
He’d been wrapped in Cheng Xiaoshi’s comforter.
He’d been a little convinced he’d died and this was heaven. One where the angels looked and smelled like Cheng Xiaoshi.
He still wasn’t convinced he was alive anymore, as he crawled into Cheng Xiaoshi’s bunk each night, the man himself not far behind him.
Because Cheng Xiaoshi was getting neurotic and clingy, his care showing in ways that only made Lu Guang bitter and angry in moments when he didn't want to feel that way.
“You’re getting worse,” Cheng Xiaoshi rationalized, aggressively pulling Lu Guang’s socks on for him as he kneeled next to the bed, “I need to make sure you don’t choke to death on flowers in the middle of the night.”
“By sleeping in the same bed as me?” Lu Guang complained, the blush on his cheek covered by Cheng Xiaoshi pulling a second sweater over his head.
“Well, you seemed convinced I’d fall out of the top bunk when we chose them. Now we can come to a compromise.”
Yeah, this had to be heaven, Lu Guang decided as he lay wrapped up in too many clothes and too many blankets, staring at Cheng Xiaoshi sitting within reach next to him.
Lu Guang wasn’t sure what time it was, but it was dark outside. The moon shone down on them, fighting with the light of his laptop to illuminate the two of them.
He could see Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyebags more clearly from his angle, still cocooned in bed as he stared up at the man he loved. They only grew as Cheng Xiaoshi glanced from its screen to a notebook sitting on the opposite side of his thigh.
Back and forth.
They aged Cheng Xiaoshi, more than Lu Guang ever expected to see him age.
“What are you reading?” Lu Guang asked, curiosity overtaking him after a long moment.
He watched Cheng Xiaoshi jump, a hand coming up to still his chest, “Jeez, I thought you were asleep,”
“Hard to sleep with that light,” Lu Guang grumbled into his pillow, pulling the covers a little tighter over himself.
“Sorry…” Cheng Xiaoshi said softly, and a second later turned the brightness down, opting to squint and crane his neck instead of interrupting his partner’s sleep. He didn’t answer Lu Guang’s question.
“What are you reading?” He asked again, about half-certain it was some article about yard care or experimental Hanahaki procedures, all of which he’d bring up to Dr. Ma tomorrow during his appointment.
“Doesn’t matter,” Cheng Xiaoshi dodged again, rubbing his tired eyes before snapping his laptop closed. His notebook joined it, and Lu Guang heard them thud gently against the floor as Cheng Xiaoshi moved to lay down.
“It’s not more old wives tales, is it? The medicine regime I’m on right now is working fine,”
“Drop it, Lu Guang.” Cheng Xiaoshi said, turning towards him and joining the pile of Lu Guang’s blankets as he wrapped his arms around him, pressing his ear to his chest.
The first time he’d done this, Lu Guang had panicked, scrambling backwards and hitting the wall hard before coughing up a bouquet’s worth of flowers all over Cheng Xiaoshi’s sheets.
Now, it was another part of their nightly routine. Though, Lu Guang was certain that just because Cheng Xiaoshi was laying down with him didn’t mean he’d actually get any sleep.
Cheng Xiaoshi had muttered something about listening for Lu Guang’s heartbeat that first night, as he swept discarded petals into a garbage can.
He’d given Lu Guang an odd look when a laugh had forced its way out of him, who had coughed out an apology in response.
It was funny though.
This was something Lu Guang had been longing for. For lifetimes.
Cheng Xiaoshi’s head was warm and heavy against Lu Guang’s suffering chest, like a living weighted blanket. His grip on Lu Guang’s sweaters loosened and tightened as he tried to fight sleep.
Lu Guang was about to ask about Cheng Xiaoshi’s readings again when the other boy balled his fist, gathering the breath to speak first.
“Can you tell me about your family again?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked into Lu Guang’s chest.
Lu Guang froze.
“My family?” He asked, not sure he heard his partner correctly, “I don’t have any, other than you and Qiao Ling-jie,”
Cheng Xiaoshi scoffed, shaking his head, “That’s not— You came from somewhere, right? Before you and I met for the first time at university,”
Lu Guang bit the inside of his lip, holding back a cough as he swallowed thickly, “If you’re trying to plan a funeral—”
“Don’t.” Cheng Xiaoshi interrupted, burying his head deeper in Lu Guang’s chest, “I— Is it a crime to ask about my best friend’s childhood?”
There was silence for a long moment. Lu Guang was hoping he could convince Cheng Xiaoshi he’d fallen asleep.
“Your dad— Your adoptive father, can you tell me about him?”
No. “He was… Fine. There’s not much to say,”
“That’s what you always tell me,”
“Well…” Lu Guang sighed, “I don’t know… He died when I was a kid. Wasn’t the nicest guy, but wasn’t the worst either,” He lied, trying to figure out the best way to end this conversation quickly, “He was involved in some criminal activity, so when he was taken away I got sent to a youth welfare facility,”
Cheng Xiaoshi perked up at that, “A correctional facility? Like, with other kids your age?”
“Why do you sound so excited?”
“I’m not,” Cheng Xiaoshi backtracked, audibly changing his tone, “But, did you get close with anyone there? Make any friends?”
“No. They all thought I was weird and avoided me.” Well, they thought Lu Guang was a criminal who would cause them trouble. Which wasn’t entirely wrong.
Cheng Xiaoshi groaned, “Come on Lu Guang, give me something to work with here!” He ended his sentence with a faux-sob, though he didn’t sound too far from a real one.
“I don’t know what you’re looking for,” Lu Guang replied, feeling frustrated even as his eyelids grew heavy. “I don’t have anyone worth mentioning,” He said through a yawn.
“Well, you have someone,” Cheng Xiaoshi said softly, into Lu Guang’s heart, “It’s not like your life started when me and Qiao Ling showed up,”
Lu Guang felt his eyes slip closed, his body shutting down after a day much longer than he was capable of.
“Right, Lu Guang? There has to be someone else…”
— — — — — — — — – — — — – – – – –
It was bright and sunny out. Though Lu Guang’s body didn’t seem aware of that, as he was currently freezing and attempting to absorb heat from four blankets and the sun in the sunroom.
He woke up from his nap to see Cheng Xiaoshi getting ready without him, pulling on his shoes and jacket as Lu Guang checked his watch.
It was 3pm on Thursday. They’d come back from Lu Guang’s bi-weekly appointment earlier today.
“Are you going to the park?” Lu Guang asked, causing Cheng Xiaoshi to jump as he turned towards him.
He did that a lot now, like he was surprised Lu Guang could still act on his own without Cheng Xiaoshi to prop him up.
“What?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked, a little frazzled as he ran a hand through his hair, moving to put it back up in a ponytail.
“Are you going to the basketball court?” Lu Guang rephrased, sounding more than a bit hopeful.
Cheng Xiaoshi paused, chewing his lip before conceding with a small, “Yeah… Yeah. It’s been nice out lately, thought I’d get some fresh air.”
Lu Guang smiled, sitting back against the couch, “That’s good,” He said earnestly.
Silence for a second.
“Did… Did you want to come with me?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked hesitantly.
He shook his head, burying himself deeper into his pile of blankets. This was good. It meant Cheng Xiaoshi could move on, eventually. Lu Guang could die knowing Cheng Xiaoshi thought of himself as a good friend, guilt-free.
Another moment of silence before Cheng Xiaoshi cleared his throat, grabbing his phone off the coffee table in front of Lu Guang and stuffing it into his pockets.
“Well, okay. I’ll be off. I asked Qiao Ling to come by to watch you, so she’ll be here in a bit,”
Lu Guang frowned, “I’m sick, not five. I don’t need Qiao Ling to come over just to babysi—” He got cut off by his own coughs, either a petal or full flower getting caught in his throat and rendering the point he was about to make moot. His hands wrapped around his throat as he doubled over, trying to force it out.
A glass of water appeared in front of him as Cheng Xiaoshi said nothing, just watching as Lu Guang grabbed it and chugged, forcing the mass back down.
He sighed as he pulled the glass away from his face. “What time is Qiao Ling getting here?”
“Five minutes, probably.” Cheng Xiaoshi answered, refilling Lu Guang’s cup with a now ever-present pitcher on the coffee table. “Do you want me to—”
“No. I won’t die in the five minutes you’ll leave me unsupervised.” Lu Guang cut him off coldly, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting.
“Are you sur—”
“Cheng Xiaoshi,”
Cheng Xiaoshi surrendered, putting his hands up before giving into one last temptation, pressing the back of his hand to Lu Guang’s forehead.
Lu Guang let him have this one, watching tired eyes dart back and forth between his face, chest, and bed-toussled hair.
“Alright, I’ll be back later. Don’t do anything too strenuous while I’m gone,”
“Have fun,” Lu Guang replied softly, chasing his words with a sip of water before he burst into another coughing fit.
The front door opened and closed with a jingle, and Lu Guang just barely had the forethought to put his glass down before feeling his eyes slip closed, falling back against the couch and falling asleep before he could stop himself.
– – – – – – – – – — – – – — — — — —
Lu Guang woke up with a stiff neck and bleary eyes, although the studio hadn’t changed much in his time out of this world.
He almost convinced himself he’d slept a full day as he looked around, searching for the sights and sounds associated with Qiao Ling and failing to find them. Then he checked his watch, confirming that the time was only 4:02pm and the girl had just failed to show up.
He swallowed, hugging himself through his layers. It had been a while since he’d been unsupervised. Lu Guang sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch as he looked up at the sun.
At least Qiao Ling had given him a moment alone, without someone coddling and spoiling him during every waking moment.
He frowned, ruminating on one of the many reasons why he hated this so much.
This was his role.
The coddling, the babying, the protesting every single one of Cheng Xiaoshi’s requests but giving into it anyway. That was the space in this home that Lu Guang had carved out lifetimes ago.
Someone who cared. Someone who was present.
Someone who wouldn’t be able to be any of those things when the plant growing in his chest finally pierced his heart, or choked him to death.
Lu Guang stood up quickly, shedding himself of an embarrassment of blankets as he refused to stew in his own thoughts.
He moved as quickly as he could up the stairs, determining he needed a snack and a nap before Cheng Xiaoshi got home and got mad at Qiao Ling for not turning up.
Lu Guang was sure it wasn’t her fault.
He was sure she had better things to take care of.
He was sure he’d bought an entire palette of ramen chips two months ago, even though Cheng Xiaoshi hadn’t let him have any since he got diagnosed.
If he’d thrown them away then Lu Guang might finally snap, Hanahaki disease be damned. He stumbled into their bedroom, readying himself to climb the next set of stairs and turn over every box he found in the attic to find his beloved snacks.
Until his eyes landed on the desk in their room.
Cheng Xiaoshi’s laptop, screensavers cycling through photos of himself, Qiao Ling, and Lu Guang.
Next to it sat his notebook, left face-down.
It called to Lu Guang.
What was that saying about curiosity and the cat again?
Lu Guang sat down at the desk with a small huff, coughing up a single flower into his sleeve as he reached for Cheng Xiaoshi’s notebook.
He looked at its cover first, weathered and aged. It was a typical black composition notebook, the type that Cheng Xiaoshi regularly pulled out of his backpack in college only to doodle in the margins all class.
On the cover, in the most neat handwriting Lu Guang had ever seen, was his own name.
He flipped open the cover.
The first entry was from the day after Lu Guang got diagnosed, the words Hanahaki Disease written boldly at the top of the page in shaky lettering.
Underneath it was Lu Guang’s first medicine regime. An inhaler, herbicides, and an anti-depressant Lu Guang had to stop taking not long later because he’d burst into tears a week later.
His mind had been swirling in darkness since his diagnosis, and especially since he’d started taking the little, theoretically harmless pills. He’d curled up on the kitchen floor one night, pulling at his own hair as Cheng Xiaoshi hovered feet away from him, accidentally letting slip how much he wanted to die, how tired he was of all this, how his mind couldn’t stop thinking about the one remaining chef’s knife in their kitchen.
At his next appointment Dr. Ma said it was a normal reaction, though she’d sounded more apologetic than she ever had prior to that moment.
Something about changing brain chemistry and adjusting to new life events. She’d suggested changing Lu Guang’s dosage and trying again. Both Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi refused.
Lu Guang smiled at a little note Cheng Xiaoshi had made at the bottom of the page. The name of the anti-depressant and an arrow pointing to the word ‘evil’, written in bold and underlined.
He flipped to the next page, dated the next day.
It was full of questions and little else, Cheng Xiaoshi’s handwriting growing messy and frantic the longer he wrote.
‘Hanahaki disease alternate cures?’
‘Hanahaki disease causes?’
‘Different medication Lu Guang should be on?’
‘What can he eat? - No crunchy snacks?’
Lu Guang’s eyes narrowed at that one, yearning for his ramen chips.
‘Why forget me nots?’
‘Who gave him Hanahaki?’
‘Why wont he get the surgery’
‘Where are Lu Guangs parents?’
‘How much does a funeral cost’
‘Common causes of death from Hanahaki disease’
‘ginger for Hanahaki disease’ Cheng Xiaoshi had put a star next to that one.
‘How long do we have left?’
The page was wet under the last question. Lu Guang’s fingers lingered over it for a moment too long, before turning to the next few pages.
This must have been when Cheng Xiaoshi started diving into note-taking properly. He stopped dating each page, and started writing down information in a way that looked like Lu Guang’s class notes.
No. They looked like Dr. Ma’s notes.
Cheng Xiaoshi kept tracking Lu Guang’s medicine regimens, adding notes about his dosages and reasons why he switched from one medication to another.
During appointments, Lu Guang assumed, Cheng Xiaoshi took meticulous notes on the disease progression. The way that the roots had hardened and formed in his lungs, the way that Lu Guang’s ribs were in danger of breaking from both the force of his coughing and the few plants that had grown along the outside of his lungs, starting to wrap around the bones.
Underneath his appointment notes were questions, things to look up for himself at home.
Had Cheng Xiaoshi ever done extra research for a project in university? Lu Guang distinctly remembered his roommate asking him how to cite a source in their last year.
In the days between appointments came a list of un-dated questions, all written down neatly, some followed up with answers that Cheng Xiaoshi had either gotten from Dr. Ma or the internet. Lu Guang could remember Cheng Xiaoshi asking most of these at appointments, holding back an eye-roll as his roommate asked about a different minor symptom or imagined scenario.
And then there was the research.
So much research.
Old wives tales about Hanahaki disease, medical research, and newspaper articles on Hanahaki cases increasing after holidays. Cheng Xiaoshi seemed to be soaking up all the information he could about what was happening to Lu Guang.
The words ‘Fever = Bad’ were written on a few different pages, sometimes followed by a reminder that at Lu Guang’s stage of the disease, there was probably little that antibiotics would be able to do for him if he got an infection.
Lu Guang frowned, feeling the ghost of Cheng Xiaoshi’s hand on his forehead. He contemplated putting down the notebook and going back to sleep, pretending he never saw any of this. He flipped to the next page.
The rest of the notebook followed the same cycle.
Medicine updates, appointment notes, questions, and research.
Rinse and repeat. Over and over again.
It reminded Lu Guang of a notebook he no longer had. Timestamps and dates as he attempted to recount every event in his timelines that had changed.
For once, he saw how obsessive it was.
He saw how desperate it was.
Cheng Xiaoshi was fighting a losing battle, trying to save someone who couldn’t be saved. Lu Guang had done that too, but he had powers on his side to help him overcome the odds.
As the notebook went on, Cheng Xiaoshi’s question pages got more desperate.
‘Why isn’t he getting better?’
‘Who made him sick?’
‘Who does he love?’
And the one that made Lu Guang’s stomach drop.
‘Could I use a picture to undo it?’
It was the last question on the page, but a dark spot of ink stained the page next to it. Like Cheng Xiaoshi had thought over that option for longer than he should have.
Lu Guang flipped two more times, flipping past Cheng Xiaoshi’s appointment notes from this morning and coming to the page he’d left on before leaving this afternoon. His eyebrows furrowed at what he found there.
Cheng Xiaoshi had broken the cycle.
He’d dated the page again. This morning.
His writing was messy on the top of the page, a question Lu Guang had seen already titling the contents.
‘Who is it’
Directly below it was a list of all the possible suspects, every person Cheng Xiaoshi thought Lu Guang could be in love with.
Qiao Ling, Felix, Captain Xiao, Wang Juan, Xu Shanshan, Dong Yi, Emma, Master Siwen.
The list was ridiculous. Lu Guang almost wanted to rip the pages apart when he saw Vein’s name next to a client from last year, closely followed by ‘Liu Xiao? (from Bridon)’.
Cheng Xiaoshi seemed to agree, because his brainstorming pivoted.
He started to list what little information he knew of Lu Guang’s past.
‘No biological parents (is that yearning?). Adoptive father dead — Lu Guang doesn’t like him. Grew up in a children’s home — didn’t like it.’
Cheng Xiaoshi found an idea there. He’d stopped writing mid-sentence and mid-page, the only thing following it being the name of the ‘home’ Lu Guang was forced to grow up in.
And then, much smaller, the address of the home, and a phone number.
Lu Guang fell into a coughing fit as he slammed the book shut, knocking the chair he was sitting in over as he pushed himself away and stood up.
He was littering forget-me-nots everywhere.
He didn’t care.
He stumbled down the stairs, feet barely managing to catch him as he pulled on a random jacket over his pyjamas and slipped on his shoes.
The front door opened right as Lu Guang reached the bottom of the stairs, announcing ‘A guest has arrived!’ right as the boy tried to push his way out the door.
“Lu Guang— Woah, hold on,” Qiao Ling greeted, voice quickly going from welcoming to worried, “I’m sorry I got here late, something came up with my da— Lu Guang, wait,”
She pushed him backwards easily, barely having to use any of her strength as she pulled a tissue from her purse, handing it to Lu Guang to cover his mouth.
“Are you okay? Do we need to go to the hospital?” She asked, eyes wide and full of worry.
Lu Guang shook his head, his eyes filling with tears as he felt pain radiate from his ribs and chest.
“It’s Cheng Xiaoshi…” He rasped, “He’s looking for people in my past— He’s going to the place I grew up.”
Qiao Ling paused before answering with a small, “He’s trying to find the person you love?”
Qiao Ling knew who was actually causing the disease. If anyone did, it was Qiao Ling. She saw that Cheng Xiaoshi was on a fruitless quest. She saw that Lu Guang would never let himself be saved.
It hurt so much.
Lu Guang’s chest squeezed as he started to panic, tears rolling down his cheek as he tried to force words out of his throat, “Please, Qiao Ling. I didn’t grow up in a good place. I hated it there. I don’t— I don’t want him to see that,”
“Okay, alright, get in the car.”
– – – – – – – – – — – – – — — — — —
Lu Guang and a small mountain of forget-me-nots tumbled out of Qiao Ling’s car before she could even park, met with the sight of the cold, grey building he’d grown up in.
No doubt, Cheng Xiaoshi had already found his way here.
No doubt, he’d already seen the life Lu Guang led before finding him at that basketball court.
“Lu Guang, wait!” Qiao Ling shouted from her car, watching as Lu Guang stumbled towards the entrance.
He ignored every instinct he had to never walk back into this cursed place, the one that had served to prove to him that the only person who could ever love him was Cheng Xiaoshi. The place where he’d spent his formative years building hope in his heart. That one day he could find Cheng Xiaoshi. That one day he’d feel loved and known.
Only for Cheng Xiaoshi to forget him. And his fears had been confirmed all over again.
That Lu Guang wasn’t worthy of love. That he didn’t deserve it. That he was just a little boy growing roots into the loose gravel beside those train tracks, destined to go unloved and unseen.
He threw the door of the facility open before he heard Qiao Ling turn the car off, making eye-contact with someone he knew well. The receptionist of the home. Only four years older than she was in Lu Guang’s memories, though it had been much longer since he’d actually seen her.
“Goodness, you’re making a mess of my lobby Lu Guang,” She said coldly.
Yup. Still the same. Lu Guang thought to himself, remembering that same tone saying the words “No visitors for you again, Mr. Lu,”
Qiao Ling rushed in behind him, the duo obviously out of breath as they stood in her lobby, holding the door open and littering the floor with flowers.
“What’s gotten into you?” She asked, giving the boy a once-over.
“Hana… haki,” He wheezed, the word foreign on his tongue as he realized this was the first time he’d had to tell someone about his condition.
“We’re looking for a guy,” Qiao Ling took over, a hand rubbing up-and-down Lu Guang’s back soothingly, “Tall, black hair, ponytail—”
“Oh.” The receptionist interrupted, “Mr. Cheng. He was by earlier. Very insistent that I tell him everything about Lu Guang,”
“D-did you?”
“No, of course not. Your records are sealed and that boy was annoying me,” She muttered, eyes turning back to her computer as she started typing something.
“So… Did he leave?” Qiao Ling asked, reaching into her purse and pulling out another tissue for Lu Guang.
“Yes, about fifteen minutes ago,”
Qiao Ling sighed, wiping a bit of sweat from her forehead, “That’s a relief,”
“Yeah…” Lu Guang agreed, kicking at the small pile of forget-me-nots by his feet.
“Well, if you kids only came here to bother me, you can leave too. I’m sure your little friend is already long gone,”
Both of them glared at the woman before turning back towards the door, Qiao Ling’s hand coming to rest on Lu Guang’s back.
“Can we stop by the grocery store? Cheng Xiaoshi threw away all my snacks,” Lu Guang asked, feeling sneaky and guilty in a way that didn’t make him want to throw up for once.
Qiao Ling laughed, opening the door for the two of them, “Yeah, sure. I need to buy some masks any—” Her phone started ringing, and the girl’s face went red before she even looked at who the caller was. “Dang it. Sorry Lu Guang, it's my dad again. I need to take this and then we can go home,” Qiao Ling said, frowning at her phone screen as she looked around.
“You can take your call in the visitor waiting room,” The receptionist butted in again, pointing further inside the building.
Qiao Ling mouthed a ‘thank you’ at her before disappearing into a room Lu Guang had never had to step foot in.
He stood awkwardly, feeling watched by the older woman as he brought the tissue down from his face.
“So, Hanahaki disease. Your boy wasn’t lying then,” She said matter-of-factly.
“No… He wasn’t,”
She hummed to herself, her keyboard clacking on for another minute until she spoke up again, “Never took you for the ‘head over heels’ type, especially with how quiet you were,”
Lu Guang had nothing to say about that, so he saved his breath.
“Guess it can’t be him you’re in love with though, since he knew nothing about you,”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Lu Guang bit back, feeling a version of himself he’d set aside long ago come back to the surface.
“Ah, there’s the stray,” The receptionist said with a smirk, “But don’t act like you don’t know what I mean. That boy was surprised to find out this place was a correctional facility. Not to mention how he reacted to the railroad. Can’t have liked him this much if he didn’t even know about that, you only used to go down there every other—”
“Wait, you told him about the train tracks?”
Lu Guang’s palms landed on the countertop, hard. He might’ve been threatening if it wasn’t for the fact that he was obviously holding back another coughing fit.
“Well, it was the one thing I remembered about you during your time here, and it’s not like it's confidential. I figured anyone who knew you enough would know about— Hey, where are you going?”
Her voice grew quieter as Lu Guang turned around, filled with adrenaline as he let the door slam shut behind him as his legs took him to where he needed to go. A route he knew through nothing more than muscle memory and tears.
The boys home had a strict curfew of 6pm. Lu Guang had broken it more than his fair share of times. On anniversaries of his abandonment. On days he felt untethered from this world. His punishments for breaking curfew only ever seemed to get worse, from both the staff at the facility and the other boys stuck in there with him.
That never mattered though. Lu Guang would always find his way back there.
He left a trail for Qiao Ling to follow as Guidu grew sparse and empty around him.
Eventually, Lu Guang didn’t know how long he’d been running, only that it was getting harder to breathe.
Guidu grew sparse around him.
When he was a child, he used to find it easier to breathe out here, the outskirts of the city where no smog or crowds could suffocate Lu Guang. Now, the edges of his vision were going dark as he struggled to take in any air.
At least the train tracks were getting closer.
Lu Guang could even hear a distant horn as he waded into the overgrown grass surrounding the train station. He tried not to think about how he’d once carved his own path in the weeds, the nature itself remembering the shape and steps of his body.
Instead, he wondered if the forget-me-nots he was spreading throughout the tall grass would eventually take root.
Maybe then he’d really be remembered, in a way that was superficial and empty.
A platform came into his view.
The platform came into his view. The one where Lu Guang had first gotten his heart broken.
Cheng Xiaoshi was standing on the tracks near it, staring down at something by the storage locker.
Another train horn blew, but Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t hear it.
Lu Guang hardly did over the sound of his own heart beating out of his chest, exhausted and strained at the effort it had taken to get here.
He saw his hand reach out in front of him before he sank into the green grass, his knees hitting pebbles and dirt. He couldn’t even call out for help, wheezing as the flowers in his throat blocked any air from getting in.
“Ch— Ch—” Lu Guang tried to call out, his eyes welling with tears as he imagined the train getting closer. It readied itself to hit Cheng Xiaoshi, worse than any bullet or angered red-head.
He tried to blink the tears away. Tried to cough up the bouquet in his throat, his vision filling intermittently with the grey-brown dirt below him or bright green grass around him.
He failed.
Was failing.
He tried to crawl forward, determined to save Cheng Xiaoshi from the pain barrelling towards him.
Except all he was doing was pushing the heavy veil facing him from side to side. His oxygen-deprived brain convinced himself he could almost fall through it. Would fall through it, if his hand wasn’t balled up in the silt beneath him, keeping him tied to his mission.
His lips forced themselves into a shape he was so familiar with, struggling to get the sound out of his chest.
“Che— Ch— Cheng—” Lu Guang wheezed through his mouth, watching water fall onto the ground below him in small drops.
The veil in front of him darkened quickly, and something joined the teardrops in his view.
Sneakers, scuffed and dirty and used. They were soon covered by strong knees and muscled thighs, and Lu Guang watched a stray limb reach for his arm, pulling him up from the dirt like a weed as something banged against his back.
Once, twice, three times before it finally dislodged the bouquet from his throat. Forget-me-nots and blood fell from Lu Guang’s mouth, blanketing the ground where he was now certain he would die.
“Lu Guang,” Cheng Xiaoshi’s voice filled his ears like breath was now filling his lungs again, both angry and raw, “How did you—”
“Don’t,” Lu Guang said between wheezes, hands spreading dust across Cheng Xiaoshi’s jacket as he grabbed him by his collar, “You can’t die— Dive,”
“Lu Guang, wait, please. Take a breath,” Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes were full of tears as he kneeled down beside him, palm rubbing circles across Lu Guang’s back.
One started to fall as Lu Guang shook his head, continuing to gasp and wheeze rather than listen to Cheng Xiaoshi for even a moment.
“Please, please,” He echoed, his words strained as he started to beg, “When I die—”
“Lu Guang—”
“Don’t go back, please. Don’t dive back to save me,”
Cheng Xiaoshi went silent. The world didn’t.
The train Lu Guang had imagined blew past them. It was loud, and sent the grasses hiding them standing sideways with each gust of wind. It sent Lu Guang’s deathbed flying and swirling around them.
“Cheng Xiaoshi, please,” He begged, a stray sob breaking loose as a blue petal lodged itself in Cheng Xiaoshi’s hair.
“Do you really want to leave me that bad?”
“Please,”
Lu Guang wasn’t good when it came to asking for things. He felt wild and desperate as he did, the feeling foreign in his chest.
The train passed them finally, and the world went quiet again. Just Lu Guang’s wheezing and crying audible in the world around them.
Cheng Xiaoshi sighed, and nodded, “Fine— Fine, I won’t dive back to save you.”
“Promise,”
Cheng Xiaoshi's mouth opened and closed, hesitating on making a commitment he wouldn't want to keep.
Lu Guang pulled Cheng Xiaoshi’s hand from his back and to his chest. His somehow still-beating heart pumped wildly beneath his fingers.
“Promise.” Swear on my life, whatever I have left.
Cheng Xiaoshi tried to wrench his hand away. Lu Guang was surprised that he had the strength to keep it in place. Well, at least until another wave of coughs ripped through him. Lu Guang faced the ground, his head falling against Cheng Xiaoshi’s chest as he tried not to cover his face in petals.
“Please, please, Cheng Xiaoshi—”
“Fine, okay! I promise. I won’t dive back for you,” Cheng Xiaoshi said into Lu Guang’s hair.
He felt teardrops land against the back of his neck. He watched forget-me-nots start to blanket Cheng Xiaoshi’s legs, burying them both there.
“Why did you have to come all the way out here?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked, choking back sobs.
“I didn’t want you to see all this…”
“What, the train tracks?”
“The way I grew up. The lonely kid I was.”
“Are you so different now?”
“… No, but I don’t want you to remember me that way.”
Cheng Xiaoshi hummed, sniffled, a hand came up to wipe one of his own tears as his chin rested atop Lu Guang’s head.
“That’s not really up to you, is it?”