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He didn't know exactly how and when it started, but all Jihoon knew was that he loved Mingyu.
Maybe it started when they got assigned as roommates. Maybe when they first met as trainees. Or maybe when Jihoon started to feel helpless whenever Mingyu smiled.
Jihoon loved Mingyu, but he definitely knew that Mingyu didn't love him back.
Sure, the younger might show that he did love his hyung, but of course he didn't mean it like /that/. Jihoon was sure that Mingyu only loved him the way members of the same group loved each other, or the way a younger loved his older brother—siblings love. Nothing more than that.
So, when he found out one day that he coughed up flower petals, Jihoon didn't freak out. At all.
Jihoon had heard about this. Hanahaki disease, they said. It happened when you loved someone, but the person you loved didn't return your feelings back. Or, a simpler explanation: unrequited love.
It started with a few coughs. Jihoon thought that it was only a flu, so did the rest of the members. They wished him to recover soon and reminded him to take his medicines, nagging him whenever he forgot (usually Jeonghan).
The members took care of him well, including Mingyu. The younger always made sure Jihoon drank enough water, so he always had a bottle of water ready in their shared bedroom. He never forgot to remind Jihoon to take his medicines, and he always made sure Jihoon wouldn’t sleep without his blankets at night.
Then, after some time passed, the coughs disappeared. Jihoon thought he had recovered and was healthy again.
But of course, everything got worse after that.
A few weeks after, the coughs came again. But this time, they happened more often, they were more violent, more painful. Especially when he stood close to Mingyu. It didn’t help with the fact that they were roommates.
“Hyung,” Mingyu called him one day. He had a sad expression plastered on his face, looking like a kicked puppy and Jihoon honestly wanted to hug him, if it weren’t for the pain the coughs were causing him. “You look like you’re under a whole lot of pain when you cough. Are you alright?”
Jihoon wanted to say that no, he was not feeling alright, and that the pain was starting to take a toll on his body. But anyone who knew Jihoon personally would know that he didn’t want to admit it easily. He had an image he had to uphold, after all.
“Yes,” he simply said, even though the reality was quite the opposite. “I’m fine. You’re probably just imagining things. It’s just the usual cough, nothing much that you should worry about.”
“Okay.” And Jihoon didn’t regret lying, because he would bear any kind of pain, as long as he had Mingyu beside him, forever.
After that came the petals. And that was when Jihoon realized that he had been in too deep.
Too deep that it was late to come back.
It was after they finished practicing the choreography for their comeback. Jihoon was coughing so badly he needed to excuse himself to the bathroom. Worried looks were present on the members’ faces as Jihoon walked quickly towards the bathroom, hands covering his mouth—afraid that the members would see.
He kept a calm look when he discovered that he had coughed up daffodil petals—which shouldn’t be normal at all, but he still didn’t freak out.
(Jihoon might have taken the situation a bit too calmly for people who had petals out from their body.)
This day is bound to come, he thought to himself as he started to look for plastic bags, or whatever he could use to store the petals. He could not bring himself to throw them away—after all, they were his love for Mingyu.
A few days after the petals, he started to have trouble breathing whenever Mingyu was near him.
The pain got so extreme to the point that he had to change roommates, and now he had a room for himself.
“Hyung, I’m sad because we won’t be roommates anymore,” Mingyu told him when he was in the middle of taking his things out of Mingyu’s (and once his, too) room. He did look sad, Jihoon noted as he studied Mingyu’s face, but that stopped abruptly as he could barely breathe. He tore his gaze away from Mingyu and focused his attention towards his things, gathering them quickly to finally move somewhere—anywhere as long as Mingyu was not there, so that the pain would disappear just for a while.
Then, Mingyu spoke again, his tone changing and he sounded slightly happier. Jihoon knew that he was smiling. His heart fluttered and he immediately suppressed the urge to cough.
“But I’ll do anything as long as you can be healthy again.”
Love me, Jihoon wanted to say, but of course that would never happen. He would just make himself look like a fool if he said that out loud. So instead, he only nodded, forcing a smile onto his face while avoiding Mingyu’s gaze. “Thanks, Mingoo.”
Turns out, changing roommates didn’t help at all. The coughs were still there, the pain was still there, and Jihoon’s love for Mingyu was still there. Nothing had changed, except that the pain was getting even harder for him to bear, the coughs were getting more violent to the point that he started coughing up blood (not that the rest of Seventeen members needed to know about this), and his love for Mingyu was just getting bigger and bigger, even though he had tried to distance himself from Mingyu as much as possible.
It was, as if, distancing himself from Mingyu made his love grow bigger and bigger. Jihoon had to admit that he missed the younger a lot, and distancing himself from the rapper made his heart ache sometimes, although this was the best way to make him feel less pain.
But it’s fine, he thought to himself. He could still admire Mingyu from afar. As long as he had Mingyu, Jihoon would gladly endure anything.
Jihoon thought that he had everything under his control. He thought that everything was going smoothly—
“Hyung.”
—until one day, Mingyu found his plastic bags full of daffodil petals.
Jihoon didn’t know how he ended up finding those plastic bags, but one day he found Mingyu inside his room, holding the plastic bags that he desperately tried to hide from the rest of the members. The horrified look on Mingyu’s face was uncomfortable to see. He looked so upset, so hurt, and also confused.
Jihoon didn’t blame him for feeling that way, though. If he were in Mingyu’s shoes, he would obviously feel the same, too.
“Hyung,” his voice barely came out as a whisper. Jihoon didn’t meet his eyes. He stared at the floor, trying to control his breathing and emotions. Both of them fell silent. The awkward air was too hard to handle, and Jihoon felt like the air suffocated him even more. It didn’t help with the fact that Mingyu was staring at him with a questioning look in his eyes. His stomach churned. Jihoon felt like coughing and throwing up at the same time.
“What is this?” Mingyu asked, his voice sounded shaky. Jihoon took a deep breath. “Why did you never tell me—”
“Kim Mingyu, you are not allowed to enter my room.”
“That is not important. I asked you, why—”
“I said, you are not—”
“You hurt my feelings!”
Jihoon was startled. For once, he was afraid of Mingyu. He stole a glance towards the younger, and his heart stung. Mingyu looked so broken, so upset, so ready to cry, and Jihoon wanted to wrap his arms on his big body. But he didn’t do it.
“I saw one of the petals in the bathroom. I think you forgot to pick up that one,” Mingyu explained. Jihoon cursed himself silently for forgetting that one fucking petal and messing everything up.
“No one has bought flowers. We have no flowers in the dorm, so I know it is you. I asked the members which flower it belongs to. Seokmin said it’s daffodil.”
Jihoon kept quiet, so Mingyu continued.
“I searched the internet and I found out about the hanahaki disease. You’ve been coughing up flower petals, haven’t you?”
Jihoon stayed quiet. He still refused to look at Mingyu. The younger took a deep breath and massaged his temples lightly. Jihoon guessed he finally recovered slightly from his shock.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mingyu asked. This time, his voice sounded less shaky. Mingyu dropped the bags he was holding to the ground and put both hands on Jihoon’s shoulder. The older was slightly surprised, but he said nothing.
“Answer me, hyung.”
Jihoon’s eyes met Mingyu’s, his breathing got hard, but fuck that. Jihoon didn’t care anymore. His secret was finally out, he could care less about that.
“You don’t need to know about it,” Jihoon muttered. “No one needs to know about it. It is my problem. I can handle it by myself.”
Mingyu’s eyes widened. “Do you not trust me?” He asked again. Jihoon felt a pang on his heart. “Do you think I can’t help you?”
You can, Jihoon thought, by loving me back. But I doubt that you will love me back.
Jihoon chose not to answer. And he guessed Mingyu got frustrated by his attitude, since he released his grip on Jihoon’s shoulder.
“You are in love with me, aren’t you?”
Jihoon froze on his place.
He immediately looked up, facing Mingyu, and he suddenly felt the urge to cough. And he couldn’t suppress it anymore.
So he coughed, hard, and this time, not only petals flew out of his mouth. This time he coughed up a whole daffodil flower, and Jihoon knew it was too late. His chest hurt so much, and Jihoon knew that the flower had blossomed completely inside his lungs. He tried to cover his mouth with his hands, but some petals managed to escape. They fell slowly near Mingyu’s feet, along with some spots of blood.
Mingyu stared at him in horror.
“Do you see why I decided not to tell any of the members about this, including you?” Jihoon finally spoke, and Mingyu said nothing. Poor boy was probably shocked to see his hyung coughing up flowers and blood.
Jihoon smiled sadly.
“It’s because there is no hope for me anymore.”
Jihoon stared at his hands, now covered with blood and daffodil flower, and he laughed hysterically. It was a hysterical laugh filled with anger and sadness, mixed with a slight feeling of relief that he didn’t have to hide this anymore. Jihoon had had enough of keeping a secret from everyone, especially from Mingyu.
"Ironic, isn't it? How I coughed up daffodil petals when I have no hope anymore."
Mingyu still kept quiet.
“I assume you already know about the methods to cure hanahaki disease by now,” Jihoon started after he had calmed down, holding the fragile flower on his hands. “There are two ways to cure it. One, is to get it removed by surgery,” he stopped and stared at Mingyu, thinking about how much he loved him. Mingyu was everything he needed. He made him feel alive, and sadly—he might have to die because of him, too.
“And the other one is to get the object of affection to love them back.”
Mingyu looked like he wanted to say something, but he kept his lips shut in the end. Jihoon continued.
“Option one is a no for me,” he simply said. “After all, this is the symbol of my love. I don’t want it to disappear. I’d rather die than make my feelings disappear. As for option two—”
Jihoon sighed and smiled again, sadly.
“I don’t think that will happen.”
The air was heavy. Jihoon reached for one of the plastic bags. He squatted, gathering the petals and putting them inside. The flower was still on his hand, gripped tightly. Jihoon didn’t want to lose it.
“You still haven’t answered my question, though,” Mingyu said.
The younger squatted too, eyes never leaving Jihoon even just once. He had a soft look on his eyes that, Jihoon hoped, was a look full of affection.
"You are in love with me, aren't you?"
Jihoon wanted to say no. He wanted to deny, because God—he wasn't ready for this. He would never be ready. But he knew he didn't have much time left, and he wanted to get everything off his chest.
So he nodded.
"Yes," Jihoon replied. "I am so fucking in love with you, Kim Mingyu."
"Then, why did you never tell me?" Mingyu questioned him, again.
"I... was afraid."
"Of what?"
"Of rejection." Jihoon could never imagine what would happen if he confessed to Mingyu and the younger actually rejected him. He'd rather keep the feelings to himself, even though it hurt himself too. Because, as long as Mingyu was there, he'd be fine.
Mingyu looked baffled, though. He probably didn't expect this to be Jihoon's answer. And Jihoon knew that this didn't really go with his tough guy image. In reality, he was actually quite fragile. He wasn't as tough as people would think.
He slightly wished that Mingyu would know this.
"How did you know if I would reject you?" The younger asked, still surprised. "You never asked me about my feelings! There's a possibility that I can return your feelings back, right?"
That's true, Jihoon thought to himself. But, his fear of rejection took him completely and he never had the courage to actually ask Mingyu out.
"I don't have much time left," Jihoon tried to change the topic as he coughed up another daffodil flower. "I'm sorry if my actions made you upset. But, oh my God—I am so, so, so in love with you, Mingoo."
Mingyu spared a glance towards the flower. "You know what, hyung? There's something that you don't know. You've been wrong, all this time."
"What is it?" Jihoon felt another bad, bad cough coming.
"You still have a hope."
As he was about to cough up another flower again, he felt Mingyu's lips pressing onto his.
Jihoon froze. He couldn't move, and he couldn't think properly either. All he could think was how Mingyu's lips felt so warm and so nice, and his lips felt like exactly how Jihoon imagined it—soft and sweet.
The cough never came.
Mingyu pulled himself apart, a smile slowly appeared on his face.
"I'm your hope," he said.
Jihoon felt the pain on his chest disappearing slowly. He noticed how his breathing had gone to normal, and he didn't feel the urge to cough badly anymore.
He stared at Mingyu dumbly.
Mingyu smiled widely.
"I am so in love with you too, Jihoon hyung."