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The first flowers grew on Semi’s wrist at the age of thirteen. Yumi-chan from class three was pretty with a beauty spot on the corner of her eye. She laughed softly and she smiled brightly. She was as delicate as the little daisies that marked Semi’s skin; his first love.
They dated for a few months before they parted ways, sights locked on different high schools. Perhaps his heart should have ached more. Perhaps he should’ve tried harder to keep contact in high school but Semi was young. Not naïve. Most adults he met had at least two types of flowers that marked their skin, all once colourful. Semi’s own daisies had turned gray by the time he started high school.
It meant falling out of love or faded affections, or death in some cases, but it really wasn’t as grim as it sounded, not for Semi. He thought of his vine of gray daisies around his wrist as happy memories he shared with a girl he once loved, someone who was now special in a different way.
In final year of high school, almost everyone around him had flowers across their skin. Hayato had purple lilies on his bicep that he liked to flaunt, making his girlfriend blush. He had faded flowers on his other shoulder and another set that peeked over the waistband of his underwear. Tendou had many flowers marking his skin, multiple of them still coloured and occasionally faded ones would re-colour again when he re-fell in love with some long-forgotten manga character. Wakatoshi had bright red geraniums on his chest, though he would not admit who they were for. Even Shirabu had developed red and white amaryllises up his right calf during his first year.
Semi remained with only his faded daisies, mostly because he didn’t allow time for anything aside from volleyball.
Then, at the beginning of third year, Wakatoshi said in the change rooms, “Eita, you have a flower on your back.”
Semi didn’t care much then. He looked at himself in the mirror awkwardly, found a single bloom of pale orange flower on his left shoulder blade and that was it. Just last week, he found out he’d lost his spot as starting setter and he had much more important things to worry about. Still, he let his teammates closely examine the flower and they collectively came to the conclusion that it was a hollyhock.
“Who is it?” Tendou asked.
“I don’t know,” Semi replied, which was true. He couldn’t imagine how he could’ve fallen in love with anyone at a time like this.
“They must have pretty high ambitions,” Reon remarked. “My dad’s and sister’s flowers are also hollyhocks and they’re very ambitious people with high goals.”
Semi felt a pair of eyes burning the side of his face so he turned to Shirabu and raised an eyebrow. “What?”
Shirabu shook his head, looking away. “Nothing, Semi-san.”
Shirabu was calm by nature but he wasn’t usually quiet the way he was now, stacking things into his locker almost robotically and leaving without another glance.
Semi hated him.
~
Two weeks later, Semi’s flowers were still a topic of changeroom conversation.
“Wow, Semi-san,” Goshiki said, standing very close to his back. “They’re growing pretty fast.”
Shirabu had wandered over to look. Semi was hardly paying attention to the rest of them but he was hyperaware of Shirabu’s presence because while everyone had already said their bit regarding the matter, he’d remained uncharacteristically silent. He was never one to hold back his opinion even when it was not appreciated.
Last week when Semi beat the crap out of the ball with his serves, Shirabu piped in with, “What’s the point of all that power when the ball doesn’t go over the net?”
And the other time with, “You look like you belong in a goth band,” after Semi experimented with eye-liner for the first time.
“Like you can do any better,” he’d spat and Shirabu took that as a challenge, all but strapping Semi into a chair to paint his eyelids. Never mind that Shirabu actually could do better and Semi hated him for that too, ignoring the blush of embarrassment from being manhandled by this twig.
“Look,” Semi said, spinning on Shirabu who was closer than anticipated. “If you have something to say, spit it out.”
The room suddenly went tense, as it was the case recently when the two were involved.
Shirabu gave him a long look. “I hope you don’t take your anger out on the person you supposedly love too.”
~
Semi hated Shirabu so much it set his chest on fire. Shirabu who was out there on that court, playing as setter in the practice match against a university team. It should’ve been Semi setting for his friends in his last year of high school, his last chances to play with them. But it was Shirabu who was keeping a calm head and steady hands, making sure tosses went up exactly the way his spikers liked them.
Shirabu had so much to improve on. He gave away his attacks with conspicuous form, not that it mattered much with Wakatoshi’s pure power but still. His spikes were weaker than the rest’s, on the occasion that he needed to make a shot. Sometimes his footing was off when he had to make a run for the ball. He landed more on his left leg, the one without the flowers.
Sometimes Semi wondered who the flowers were for but then he realised he didn’t give a crap.
~
“Eita, your flowers are still growing really fast,” Reon said another two weeks later with some concern in his voice.
Goshiki tiled his head in confusion. “Don’t they usually stop growing after, like, a month? I mean, mine did.”
“Yeah,” Tendou said, poking at Semi’s shoulder blade. “But you, Semisemi, still have buds branching off. You must really like this person. Are you sure you have no idea who it is?”
“I honestly don’t care.”
Semi left it at that. He was getting tired of everyone asking about his goddamned flowers. He was still working out the kinks in his serves and he needed to be ready by the time Inter-high rolled around or he wouldn’t even be warming the bench. The flowers were the least of his concerns.
Shirabu looked at him strangely as he stalked out of the room and Semi wanted to bark at him. This is all your fault. You stole my spot, he kept thinking but that wasn’t true.
Shirabu didn’t steal anything. He earned it because, despite his flaws, was good. He was what the team needed.
That made it all the more painful.
~
A few days went by when no one said anything about Semi’s flowers.
Surprisingly, the first person who brought it up again was Shirabu. “Semi-san,” he said, frowning at Semi’s back. “They’re still growing.”
Semi glanced at himself in the mirror. The pale orange flowers had taken over the entire upper-left side of his back, some leaves and buds even creeping over his shoulders. Some of the flowers had become stronger in colour too. This was far more elaborate than the daisy chain on his wrist.
“I don’t think that’s good,” Kawanishi said. It was rare of him to say much when things didn’t directly involve him but he seemed to be making an effort to now. “This kid in my middle school had flowers that didn’t stop growing too.”
“What happened to him?” Goshiki asked.
Kawanishi shrugged. “Dunno. I heard he was sick for a while but he never showed up to school again. Didn’t even come back for graduation.”
Everyone eyed Semi.
Wakatoshi stepped forth and placed a giant hand on his shoulder like he was about to talk to a terrified child. “Eita, you should see the nurse.”
“I’m fine,” Semi brushed off, rolling his eyes. “I’ll keep an eye on things and if they don’t stop in the next week, I’ll do something about it.”
He didn’t want to admit Kawanishi’s story got to him because Kawanishi liked to mess with people but Semi found himself looking in the mirror again.
The bunch of hollyhocks were more elaborate than even Tendou’s canvas of assorted flowers.
~
The next practice game, Semi was sent in as pinch server in Shirabu’s place. He shouldn’t have gloated, even internally, but he was a bit petty and he accepted that. This was the one part of the game Shirabu couldn’t compare to him.
He threw the ball up high, took a good run up and slammed hard on the ball. He scored five points with three service aces. When he finally had to step off court, Shirabu nodded at him with something like pride.
As they switched, he said, “Next time, get ten points.”
“I’ll get twenty,” Semi promised.
He absolutely would. He stayed for extra practice and this time, when he served, he didn’t imagine it being Shirabu’s face.
Then he chose a time when the changerooms would be relatively empty to finish up and head out. He wasn’t exactly trying to avoid his teammates, only the questions he would get because the flowers had reached his spine and his collarbone now. And he couldn’t remember if this happened with the daisies, but he swore he felt the flowers on his skin like a piece of cloth. Sometimes it annoyed him a little as if roots had dug into his flesh.
He told himself that he was just being paranoid.
~
Semi wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt this out of breath when he played volleyball. After three or four sets, sure, he’d start to reach his limits. But never in the middle of the second set. One of the first years on his team shanked a receive and Semi had to chase it down to set so his toss was shit but the blame wasn’t on the rookie. Semi should’ve been able to set it properly. He was tired.
Reon’s spike barely went over the net and their team was behind by eight points, which was rare for any team made up of Shiratorizawa players. Reon called for a time-out to regroup.
“Sorry, Semi-san,” the first year apologised. “It was a bad pass.”
Semi patted the kid’s head, trying to appear less worn out than he felt. “It wasn’t too bad. I just couldn’t get there in time.”
“You okay, man?” Jin asked.
“Yeah, yeah,” Semi said vaguely, taking a swig of water. “I just didn’t sleep well last night.”
Reon pursed his lips. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit out for a bit?”
Absolutely not. Shirabu, on the other side of the net, was still fine and dandy. Semi didn’t get the chance to play setter much these days and when he did, it was on the B team, which was any team made up mostly of non-starters. If there ever was a perk to this, it was that Coach Washijo wasn’t on his case too much about how he set. He was not going to let that opportunity go so easily.
“I’m good,” Semi said firmly.
He played the rest of the game below his usual standards. The others might not have noticed all the slight inconsistencies in his tosses but Semi knew himself. He prided himself in being able to orchestrate good, vicious attacks and though they managed to close the final point gap down to two, he was not happy.
Not to mention the flowers were still creeping across his back and shoulder and seemed to be tightening their hold on his skin. It was irritating. He kept touching them over his shoulders subconsciously as he stretched and only Shirabu’s eyes alerted him of it.
Semi returned to silently reaching for his toes, breathing deeply, steadily, until he felt a bony knee on his back.
“You were off your game, Semi-san,” Shirabu noted. “Are you okay?”
“You care, do you?”
The knee pressed him down harder and, despite the utter disrespect, Semi had to hide a smile.
“We still need you as pinch server. Don’t go slacking off.”
Semi was going to throttle this guy. “Can you not be an asshole for two seconds?”
Shirabu pressed his knee even harder and it actually hurt a bit this time before he lifted it completely off. Semi twisted to glare up at him but Shirabu’s eyes were on the blossom that peeked over the neck of Semi’s T-shirt that had become askew with movement.
Semi resisted the urge to cover it up.
“Are you sure?” Shirabu said.
“Of what?”
“Do you really not know who you’re in love with?”
Semi eyed the amaryllis petals that curved around Shirabu’s leg. “Do you know who you’re in love with?”
His eyes hardened. “I do, actually. I suggest that you try to figure yourself out too.”
And then he was gone, leaving Semi sitting on the floor, staring after him.
~
Semi didn’t want to take Shirabu’s advice, not when the he’d never bothered to take Semi’s. But still, he lied in bed that night, trying to think and failing to come up with a face to the flower.
They’d be ambitious, Reon said. Orange could’ve possibly meant happiness or high in energy but a peachy, pale orange was more difficult. Google told him that it meant friendliness and soothing qualities. The only person who fit the latter description was probably Reon himself. Sure he was a good friend, but Semi didn’t love him enough to start growing flowers.
He thought about Yumi-chan and how it was like to love her. It was the soft and timid feeling of first love. There was adoration, finding everything she did charming, and wanting her to be happy always. He didn’t even remotely feel that way about anybody now so why the flowers?
This was starting to worry him a little.
~
When his parents came to visit that weekend, Semi asked for Ventolin inhaler. He hadn’t needed one in years but there was a time when he had asthma attacks often so it concerned his parents a little bit. Semi refrained from telling them about the flowers and reassured them that the inhaler was purely a precaution.
He found himself using it a few times throughout the day, even after walking up stairs or eating. The stress was really getting to him and practice, which would usually take his mind off things, was the opposite of helping. He had to sit out a few times and Coach Washijo sent him to the nurse.
The nurse checked his vitals and almost everything seemed to be fine. She didn’t like how his breathing sounded though. She gave him something to take and kept him in the infirmary for the night before deeming him well enough to be released the next morning with the firm instruction that he sit out from practice for a week.
But Inter-High was in two weeks. Even if he wouldn’t be on court most of the time, Semi couldn’t just do nothing. He snuck into the gym on Wednesday evening, when the club had the day off, and practiced his serves. Not jump serves because he knew better than to push himself that far. He practiced his aim and tried a few floaters.
For whatever reason, Shirabu showed up about half an hour later with a disapproving look on his face. It might’ve been intimidating had his uniform not been partway undone, tie hanging loosely around his neck, a few buttons popped open and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. This was as dishevelled as Shirabu Kenjirou had ever looked and it messed with Semi’s brain a little.
“I thought you weren’t allowed to play,” Shirabu said, picking up a stray ball and bouncing it as he made his way over.
“I’m not playing, am I?”
“Can you not be a smartass for two seconds?”
Touché. Semi had to give him that, begrudgingly. “What do you want?”
His cheeks tinted pink, but just the faintest shade. “I wanted to see if you’re okay.”
Semi had just opened his mouth to insist that he was fine when a small coughing fit seized his throat. Shirabu’s eyes widened in panic and Semi put up a hand to calm him down, coughing into the crook of his elbow.
“I’m fine,” he wheezed when he finished.
“You’re clearly not. Where’s your inhaler?”
Semi jabbed a thumb to where he placed it, just a few feet away. Shirabu grabbed it for him so Semi felt obliged to use it even though he’d already had two preventative puffs before he started.
“What triggered your asthma all of a sudden?” Shirabu asked, carefully eyeing Semi.
Semi shrugged. “Probably stress. My grandma has asthma, so does mum. They both get worse when they’re stressed.”
“What are you stressed about? Inter-High?”
He shrugged again.
“The flowers?”
“More likely.” Why was he even confiding in Shirabu about this, of all people? Was it because he didn’t look so stuck-up today with messy uniform? Or was it the genuine concern on his face?
Shirabu looked at his neck before, without warning, tugged the shirt aside to reveal more. “They’re still growing, aren’t they?”
Semi nodded but more than that, they’d become heavier. He knew it wasn’t normal to feel flowers clinging to his skin. They were no more than ink. “How do you know who it is?”
“Most people tend to know who they have feelings for.”
But Semi didn’t. These flowers couldn’t have been normal, hence the excessive growing and heaviness, but maybe the abnormality started from the fact that they shouldn’t have been there at all.
“But,” Shirabu said when Semi was obviously struggling to think of someone, “my dad said it can happen because of internal conflicts.”
Semi frowned. “Like what?”
Shirabu looked at the net, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Before he met my mum, Dad fell in love with a boy.” He glanced at Semi as if gauging for his reaction. Whatever he saw was apparently enough for him to continue. “He kept denying it for a long time and they kept growing and growing until he accepted it. So he has big field of flowers on his leg, almost as big as yours.”
“And you think I could be denying that I’m not straight?”
For some reasons, Shirabu blushed a deep shade of red, which answered a few questions Semi had. “I’m just saying it could be a reason! I’m trying to help.”
“I know, I know. But I already know I’m not straight.”
Shirabu paused for a moment, taken aback at the casual coming out, then he regained his composure. “Well, some other internal conflict then. The point is, you need to sort yourself out.”
“Yeah, I figured that much.” Semi looked at the other’s leg, covered by those ugly plaid uniform pants. “So your flowers are a boy’s then?”
The blush extended right down his neck as he bristled. “Is that the only thing you got from this?”
Huh. Who knew teasing Shirabu could draw out reactions like this? Semi smirked. “Let’s see. Red and white amaryllis, pretty but also poisonous. Determination and pride, right? Is it Goshiki?”
Shirabu looked absolutely disgusted. “And you call me an asshole. Sorry I tried to help you.” Then he stomped right out of the gym, yelling, “Stop playing!”
Semi laughed and supposed that Shirabu could be entertaining.
The next morning, a hesitant look in the mirror showed the blossoming of a red hollyhock among the orange.
~
The coughing gradually worsened to the point it triggered his gag reflex and he was running for the bathroom in the middle of economics. He was more wheezing than breathing and eating was a literal pain. Swallowing hurt. Sometimes even breathing hurt. Semi took care of himself as well as he could but the nurse wanted to send him to the doctor’s. He promised he’d go as soon as Inter-High was over and got his parents to book an appointment for him too.
He made it through the first three days of Inter-High almost perfectly fine. He coughed and wheezed a bit and Coach Washijo didn’t send him out once. Didn’t really need to because their team was very strong this year, without Semi.
He was bitterly washing his hands in the bathroom when suddenly his vision swam and his ears rang. Breathing difficulty also meant not getting enough oxygen in his brain and inability to eat meant low blood sugar. Not a good mix. Hayato found him sitting on the bathroom floor, leaning his head against the wall. Semi wouldn’t be allowed to play tomorrow, at the finals, whether he was needed or not.
On the bus ride back to school, it was obvious that his teammates wanted to surround him but were giving him space on purpose. Shirabu, on the other hand, chose to sit next to him.
“It’s not stress, Semi-san,” he said quietly, barely audible over the chatter of a dozen conversations.
“I’m really not in the mood, Kenjirou.”
To his credit, Shirabu said no more. Semi must have fallen asleep after that because the next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake and it took a few minutes after getting off the bus to register that he had lifted his head off Shirabu’s shoulder, meaning Shirabu let Semi fall asleep on him.
He spent another night in the infirmary with an IV drip shooting chemicals up his veins. A few of his friends were allowed to visit until curfew and Semi, to his surprise, found himself looking for Shirabu among them. He wasn’t there. Why would he, Semi supposed. He’d already lent his shoulder on the ride back. Visiting him was probably not on the agenda. Still, Semi wanted to see him, ask him about that ‘internal conflict’ he was talking about.
In the morning, his parents were called to pick him up, though they would not be able to arrive until evening. The doctor’s appointment wasn’t until tomorrow but Semi was deemed unfit to stay at school any longer. There was something wrong with his lungs.
So he spent the day slowly packing or reading, trying to keep his mind off the finals match he was not permitted to attend. When he went to shower, he found even more flowers had grown since he last bothered to check, with more colours; yellows, pinks, purples, whites. Even more peculiar was a flower on his chest, right over his heart. Just a single one, far away from the rest of the bunch. Flowers grew in clusters and vines unless two separate clusters formed from falling in love with two people at once. Semi definitely wasn’t in love with two people, maybe not even one.
He had to tell his parents, and the doctor. He should’ve paid more attention.
~
That afternoon, the volleyball team returned victorious as usual. Semi was standing at the front of the welcoming crowd. His chest ached from more than coughing and he could hardly breathe but when his friends stepped off the bus, he smiled and celebrated with them, complaining about how he wanted to be there. They were all high on adrenaline, clapping each other on the back, punching arms and ruffling hair but they were careful with Semi.
“I missed your compliments, Semi-san!” Goshiki said. “My super straight line shots were on point today.”
Semi messed up Goshiki’s sweaty bowl-cut hair and smiled. “Good job, kiddo. Wish I was there to see them.”
“Tendou tried to start a fight with one of Seijoh’s middle blockers,” Hayato told him. “The one with the eyebrows that went to your middle school.”
Matsukawa Issei. Semi doubted Tendou got anywhere with the fight though. Matsukawa wasn’t one to rise to baits; he was the one baiting people.
Tendou recalled something else about the game that Semi only half listened to, seeking out a certain somebody in the crowd. Shirabu was unloading equipment from under the bus and Semi headed over there, needing a bit space from the raucous chatter.
But he never made it there. Violent coughs wrecked through him, eyes stinging with tears and throat clogged like he was choking and he couldn’t breathe. He was vaguely aware of dropping to his knees and suddenly being surrounded as spots began to blur his vision but something was painfully clawing his way up his throat and he spewed blood into his hands.
And everything was black.
~
Coming back into consciousness was terrible. Semi knew before he even opened his eyes that he was at a hospital. The smell was all gross. Plus, he had an oxygen mask covering his face and there were needles in both his wrists.
His mum was crying and his dad was calling for a nurse or a doctor and Semi couldn’t speak. Everything was fuzzy. He listened as the doctor explained that he had to be intubated with a mechanical ventilator. Do you understand?
Sort of. There was a tube down his throat, which was why he couldn’t speak.
Do you know why?
He shook his head.
You have flowers growing in your lungs and around it, from your mark. It’s become so severe that I’m surprised you’ve been able to walk around as long as you have.
Oh.
Did you know you’ve started coughing up flowers?
No, he did not.
It can be fixed, but it’s up to you. Your friends have told me that you don’t know who your flowers belong to. Is that true?
Yes, but he didn’t think there was anyone. He wanted the doctor to tell him something had gone wrong. The doctor must have seen something in his limited expressions because she shook her head a little.
This isn’t an abnormality. It happens sometimes when there are complications with feelings. It is dangerous when you’ve left it unsolved as long as you have but they can go away, very easily.
His mum was still sniffling and his dad had a fist pressed to his mouth.
First you have to start by figuring out the person you fell in love with.
What if he couldn’t? He hadn’t been able to for months. It sounded so dumb, didn’t it? No wonder Shirabu made fun of him.
Eita-kun. Surgery is an option but it will be extensive and it won’t solve the problem at the root. The flowers will grow back. The only way to permanently fix this is to come to term with your feelings. Do you understand?
Yes.
~
Semi tried now, because he had no choice. Until he fixed his lungs, he wasn’t leaving the hospital, he wasn’t speaking and he definitely wasn’t playing volleyball. It sucked.
He’d been allowed to use his phone a few hours later and it was blown up with messages.
Are you okay?
motherfucker u better be alive
semi-san!!!! Please get well soon!
I told you it wasn’t good.
He replied each respectively with:
I’m good. Thanks, Wakatoshi
Whose mother am I fucking??
Thanks, Goshiki. You’re the only kouhai who cares about me
Shut up taichi. I thought you were trying to scare me
Those were only some of the text he received. Some of the other ones were very angry, which was fair. He basically spewed blood and passed out in front of the whole school. He probably traumatised a few people. Tendou’s texts though, were quite detailed.
Eitaaa!! Hope ur doin okay
u scared the crap out of us all man
i tought u were gonna die
*thought
man reon had like a heart attack and hayato nearly passed out
can’t handle blood apparently
coach saito tho. He flipped his shit
full blown panic
tanji-kun had to yell at him to call an ambulance
but Kenjirou
holy shit
u would not believe it
he cried
leigt like yelled your name and cried
he was shaking the whole time
I’m pretty sure he hasn’t slept or eaten since yesterday
Tanji-kun told us ur alive so
If u can, maybe let him know
We’re all worried for you
Semi was strangely touched that Shirabu apparently cared that much. Now that he thought about it, he could’ve sworn that he heard his name being called frantically before he passed out and he almost hoped it was Shirabu. Semi didn’t like to worry people but he wanted Shirabu to care. Was that weird? Maybe a little bit.
What was also weird was that Shirabu had not sent a single message, so was Tendou exaggerating? Possibly. He decided to send a quick text to Shirabu anyway.
Hey. Tendou said you were worried. Don’t be. I’m fine.
The response was immediate.
Idiot. You already said it in the group chat.
What an ass, was what Semi thought but he caught himself smiling. He did deserve the insult though.
He spent almost all his waking moments matching every person he knew with the flowers on his skin and in his lungs. His parents wanted him to undergo surgery to remove them for the time being and Semi agreed because the growing didn’t stop. The infection in his lungs could worsen, or flowers could start to grow around his heart and breathing would become the least of his worries. The surgery was booked for four days’ time, the earliest the surgeon was available.
“It’s a delicate procedure,” his doctor said. “Not many are specially trained for these types of extractions.”
So Semi had a lot of time to kill and not many ways to kill it. He asked for last year’s yearbook and went through every single person. There were a few girls he thought were cute and whom he was quite good friends with. But they were like his sisters. It was gross to even think of loving any of them like that but perhaps that’s what the doctor meant by ‘complications with feelings’.
Or it could’ve been this really attractive senior who’d graduated now. Maybe Semi subconsciously pined over a boy whose name he didn’t even care to know until now. That’d definitely fit the criteria of ‘complications’, seeing as the boy wasn’t even around anymore. He considered hitting the guy up on Facebook but backed out at the last second.
His dad watched him linger on the photo of this guy and cleared his throat. “You know, it’s okay if the person you love is not a girl,” he started.
Semi nodded.
“Your mum and I don’t want you to think we’ll disapprove if you bring home a boy. We just want you to be happy and safe.”
They’d never had this conversation before and Semi never felt like they needed it. His parents were amazing, accepting people so he knew that who he loved was never going to be a problem for them. It was still nice to hear it though and he smiled at his dad as best as he can.
On Saturday, his friends came to visit even though he couldn’t really talk or do much. They brought boardgames and apparently had no qualms about spreading a monopoly board over Semi’s legs, only covered by a flimsy hospital gown.
Throughout the day, more people trickled in. Classmates, people he’d seen around school, teachers. They brought so many gifts and flowers that his dad had to make a trip home so they didn’t take up space in the already small room. But the one person decidedly missing from the stream of people was Shirabu.
Semi texted Tendou again that night.
is Shirabu mad at me? He hasn’t shown up
don’t think so. He went out this afternoon
thought he was gonna see u
Honestly, why did Semi even care that much? This kid was a total brat who had zero respect for him. For God’s sake, he replaced Semi as starting setter. It was-
Semi stopped. A few things started to slowly rearrange in his mind.
But the picture he ended up with was utter blasphemy. Surely not. Right?
No. Of course it wasn’t. He was being stupid.
Semi promptly stopped thinking about it all and willingly chose to focus on the discomfort of the tube in his throat.
~
On Sunday evening, the doctor checked on his vitals and wanted to try reducing him to only an oxygen mask because the tube was becoming painful. Semi immediately felt the difference in how well he could breathe but it was freeing. When he was stable without it, a nurse popped her head around the door to announce that he had a visitor.
A few moments later, Shirabu came in hesitantly. He greeted Semi’s parents who left to give them some privacy, firmly instructing him to call for help if he felt even the slightest bit off. The doctor also told him to not talk too much before she left.
Then they were alone.
Shirabu looked terrible, probably as bad as Semi did, with dark bags under his eyes and significantly gaunter face. His hair, however, was as meticulous as always. Semi had never been so happy to see that disappointed face.
Oh.
“I told you to sort yourself out,” Shirabu said first thing. He shuffled over and placed a small pot of flowers he was carrying onto the bedside table. Red amaryllis.
Semi’s heart skipped a beat, which it probably shouldn’t be doing.
“I…” Semi inhaled deeply and it kind of hurt. “I think I’m starting to get it.”
Shirabu rolled his eyes and dropped into the chair by the bed. “Congratulations. It only took you nearly dying.”
Shirabu was angry but Semi liked it. He liked it a lot because that anger meant he worried, he cared. Semi loved being the centre of his attention like this. He suddenly realised he wanted more. How long had he wanted more?
Shirabu leaned forward and dropped his face into his hands. He said nothing for a while, staying so still that he could’ve fallen asleep. Semi would say something but he just watched. He liked that too. The familiarity of Shirabu’s frame was a testament to how much time Semi must’ve actually spent watching him. He was so small – had always been considered small on their team but curling in on himself like this made him so much more fragile.
But looking at him, Semi breathed a little better than he had in so long.
Then Shirabu shuddered, shoulders sagging. He made a noise that Semi mistook for a cough but that was not a cough at all. Shirabu sobbed. He was crying, furiously wiping his eyes with the base of his palms.
“You’re an idiot,” he choked. “A fucking asshole.”
Semi stared, stunned, before his senses came back and registered that Shirabu was really, truly crying in front of him. “Kenjirou, I’m so sor-”
“Shut up!” Shirabu snapped, looking up with bloodshot eyes that made Semi’s words fall away. There was anger, and then there was Shirabu in his current state. “You have no idea what you did to me. The flowers died. They wilted and died, Semi-san.”
Semi looked down at himself but the last time he checked, he still had hollyhocks on him, more than ever.
“Not yours. Mine.”
What?
Shirabu twisted in the chair to point to the back of his calves where five amaryllises had withered and turned gray. He was quieter when he spoke again but his voice was no less stormy. “I felt them wilt as soon as you collapsed and after the paramedics took you, I couldn’t stop watching them and there was nothing I could do. I just kept praying that no more would die. I didn’t want to close my eyes because I was so scared of finding all of them gray when I opened them again.”
Semi was lightheaded but not from the lack of oxygen. The red and white amaryllises on Shirabu’s leg, they were for him. That meant… “Is this a confession?”
Shirabu glowered at the floor, wiping his red, tear-streaked cheeks. “I don’t expect your flowers to be for me and I don’t want your pity. I came so you would realise that there are people out there who would, despite their better judgement, love you and care about you and all you did was let your pride get in the way of getting the help you obviously needed. What were you trying to prove?”
He stood and started to pace.
Semi had so much to say but not enough air to say them so he settled for, “Kenjirou,” in hope that Shirabu would stop or slow down for a second. He didn’t.
“We all told you the flowers weren’t normal. You said you’d do something about it. Why couldn’t you have just sucked it up and went to a goddamned doctor? But you are a selfish idiot who only cared about stepping onto that court and you hurt all of us.”
“Stop yelling at me.”
“No.” Tears spilled over his cheeks again. “I just-” He sniffed, bottom lip rolling between his teeth, and looked away as if he still wanted to hide his tears from Semi.
“Kenjirou, I really am sorry I hurt you. But I’ll-”
“Is everything okay?” The nurse had opened the door and poked his head in.
“Sorry,” Shirabu apologised, using the sleeves of his jacket to wipe his face. “I was just about to leave.”
Semi tried to stop him, telling him to stay but Shirabu had apparently said all he came here to say. What a jerk, coming all this way only to yell at a sick person despite being a complete mess himself.
And maybe this made Semi a little twisted but he was glad for it.
Because now, he had his answer and realised that it could never have been anything else.
~
Semi didn’t need the surgery. The flowers receded from inside him, though the ones on his skin remained, colourful and pretty. He kept his friends updated on the recovery process and received many replies of relief and some well-meant insults like: guess I’m gonna have to see ur ugly face around here again soon. He knew Hayato missed him. Shirabu, of course, did not say a thing.
A week later, his parents drove him back to school reluctantly. They wanted him to rest at home for a few more days but he managed to convince them that he was in perfect condition again. Besides, he’d go back for weekly check-ups to make sure the flowers stayed put for good and he promised to call every night.
He held a hatbox in his hands as he made his way into the school. The welcome back was over the top with the entire third-year dormitory jumping on him and whooping and headlocks, led by none other than Hayato and Tendou. That was without telling anyone he’d be coming back today. Imagine if they had time to prepare. Still, he appreciated it and felt worse about making them all worry so much.
Shirabu was, surprisingly, among the group of second years who’d come to welcome him and he was looking much better than he did at the hospital. He wouldn’t meet Semi’s eyes though so when Semi was finally released by everyone else, he followed him.
“Can I help you, Semi-san?”
“You can, actually. I need you to try this on for size.”
He eyed the hatbox suspiciously. “Why?”
“Just trust me.”
“If this has anything to do with what I said before-”
“For God’s sake, you talk so much sometimes. Just shut up and trust me. Try it on.”
Trust was definitely not what was in Shirabu’s eyes when he stopped walking and looked at the box again. “You’re the weirdest person I’ve ever known.” But you love me anyway. “Fine. Give it to me.”
Semi looked around at the courtyard, a few students rushing by to get ready for the day. “Not here. You’ll probably be embarrassed.”
“Then what makes you think I’ll put it on anywhere else?”
Semi breathed in and out patiently, just because he could. Then he grabbed Shirabu’s wrist and dragged him towards his room, the second-year protesting the whole way through as he tried to retrieve his hand. But Semi didn’t let go until they were in his room, door locked. Shirabu was not impressed as he nursed his red wrist.
“I figured out who my flowers are for,” Semi said.
“I know. That’s why you’re back.”
“And I have something to give to them.”
Shirabu’s face turned cold, fingers balling into fists. “Semi-san, you know how I feel about you and you thought it was okay to make me put on something you’re confessing to someone else with?”
Semi rolled his eyes and opened the box. Inside was not a hat but a crown of flowers sitting on an expensive velvet cushion. Hollyhocks, to be exact. He put the box on the bed and gently took out the flowers. Some have already started wilting from the car ride but he wanted to give nothing but real flowers, not some fake plastic ones.
“Turns out, hollyhocks are pretty big plants so I had to do find another way to bring it in,” Semi explained. “It’s not for someone else, you dumbass. It’s for you.”
Shirabu was still glaring, but in confusion now, as he let Semi place the ring atop his head. It was a little bit big, making flowers fall across his forehead rather than the crown of his head but he was adorable nonetheless.
“I don’t understand,” Shirabu said.
“I didn’t either. I thought I hated you but apparently I was falling in love with everything that I found annoying about you. You are right; I am an idiot and I’m selfish and I have too much pride. But you always pulled me back down to earth and slapped sense into me. Even though it kills me to admit it, not admitting it actually almost killed me.”
Shirabu opened his mouth but Semi put a finger to it, making him freeze.
“At the risk of sounding like absolute mush, I love you, Shirabu Kenjirou and if you’d let me, I want to try to revive the flowers that died.”
Shirabu stood still for a moment after Semi slowly removed his finger, staring up like this could’ve been some giant, cruel prank. Then he frowned. “That’s disgusting. I like you better when you’re mean.”
Semi laughed, air freely flowing through his lungs, and it made Shirabu’s lips twitch with a hint of a smile too, but he did everything to keep it from fully taking shape. Semi still saw the happiness in his eyes and the dust of pink across his cheeks as he looked away.
Maybe they were both a little twisted but that was okay. Semi was happy to accept that he breathed easier when he was with Shirabu.
The daisies on his wrist and the love he had for Yumi-chan were simple, though not insignificant. His love for Shirabu was wild and complex and he had a great, big field of colourful hollyhocks to show for it.