Chapter Text
Tonight is much quieter.
That single autumn leaf attached to the branch,
It’s breaking - I can see the thing known as the end.
The dead leaves that are becoming shrivelled,
The silence inside your aloof heart.
Please don’t fall,
Please don’t fall,
The dead leaves are crumbling into pieces.
"Jin hyung, you're up!" a familiar voice called out, greeting him as he woke up to glaring lights and a blanket reeking of antiseptic draped over him.
"Namjoon?" Seokjin croaked, his parched throat protesting with sharp jolts of pain as he attempted to speak. "What happened?"
"You passed out during a sudden attack of the Hanahaki. All the doctors were shocked at how advanced your disease was," the other doctor informed him, his warm brown eyes filled with something disturbingly similar to pity. "Why didn't you tell me, hyung? I thought we were best friends."
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, pointedly averting his eyes. "There was nothing you could do anyway."
"What do you mean, hyung? You save people with Hanahaki for a living! You know that you can get cured instantly if you go for surgery!" Namjoon snapped angrily, reaching out to grip Seokjin's hand. Seokjin slapped it away.
"Yes, and yet only 30% of my patients recover. Do you know that’s what they consider a good record? You drill bones for a living, don't act like you know anything about the Hanahaki when you don't; Just because you learnt about it in Robbins Pathology back in medical school doesn't mean you know shit about it, Namjoon," Seokjin spat back harshly, heaving from the effort it took. He could see from the way Namjoon's round eyes widened that the other man didn't expect him to react this way. It almost made him feel bad for blowing up on the other doctor this way, but Seokjin couldn't really help it.
"Namjoon-ah, Do you know why the Hanahaki has a mortality rate of 80% even though a surgical option with 99% success rate is available?" Seokjin finally asked after calming himself down, breaking the awkward silence.
"No, hyung," Namjoon admitted, his hand tightening a little to squeeze around Seokjin's.
"Because 80% of Hanahaki patients choose love over life," Seokjin replied simply, smiling a little wistfully as he thought of Yoongi and his gummy grin. He could feel the prickly pain build in his chest as he thought about how passionately Yoongi had boasted about his boyfriend, and how terribly beautiful his music was due to that very passion. Seokjin inhaled deeply and forced a few coughs out, producing a few white lily petals of the flowers that he knew would eventually kill him.
"And that's the choice I made, Joonie," Seokjin said. "I don't expect you to understand it, but please stop looking at me with that all that pity, as though I've gone insane. It's my decision, and I hope that you can respect it as my best friend."
"Okay," Namjoon muttered after a moment of silence, this time looking up at Seokjin with watery eyes. Seokjin responded with small smile.
"Okay, I can respect your decision," Namjoon repeated, his voice a little stronger this time. "But that doesn't mean I'll give up on changing your mind. The patient you were in love with - he told you to move on and help even more patients, didn't he? Yewon told me. That means we have to help you get better so he can rest in peace, yes? You don't have to go for the surgery and lose your memories, but promise me you'll at least try and go for treatment."
And perhaps it was because of the desperate sincerity in Namjoon's voice, the earnest plea in those brown eyes, or the fact that Namjoon raised a very valid point of what Yoongi would have wanted, that Seokjin eventually nodded his head slowly, staring at the petals in his palm. If he could love Yoongi to the point of sickness, he would at least try to live in a way that would make the man proud.
"Promise," Seokjin replied eventually, watching as Namjoon release a sigh of relief.
"You'll get better, hyung," Namjoon said firmly. "I'll make sure you do. You can get better and still remember the man you loved."
Seokjin merely smiled at Namjoon's optimism.
Maybe he would recover, maybe he would not. At that moment, Seokjin felt an incredible gratefulness for having met Yoongi, even if the other was technically the cause of his suffering. Yoongi taught him what true love was, bringing colour to an existence that he hadn't even known was dull until he met the other man. But Seokjin also learnt one other thing:
The Hanahaki was a cruel and horrifying disease. Yet, it was also ironically beautiful in the way young girls liked to imagine coughing out flowers for the sake of love was, and was filled with the fiery passion romance fanfic stories spoke of. It was tragic yet wonderful, damning yet uplifting. Being with Yoongi brought Seokjin unimaginable agony, but also gave him an irreplaceable joy. Even if he managed to move on, Seokjin knew that Yoongi would always have a special place in his heart.
That is, if he even managed to move on, Seokjin thought drily as his lungs began clogging up with petals again, sending him into another series of hacking coughs.
Maybe he would recover, maybe he wouldn't. Either way, Seokjin was glad to have met Yoongi, even if it would eventually kill him to have done so.