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Kel wasn’t sure when they stopped talking.
One day they were close friends, then he blinked and years had gone by since they’d spoken. He wasn’t sure how he ever let it get to that point, but the dissolving of their friend group had never been a straightforward thing. He had wanted to just give them space—Kel knew he was a little too clumsy about feelings to handle them properly—but then that space never closed and the distance between them grew wider and wider. And then, one day, he noticed it.
Kel noticed he missed Basil.
He wasn’t sure what made him start thinking about Basil again—maybe Kel passed him at school one day and noticed how puberty was treating him, or it was just a plot of flowers that caught his eye. Whatever the catalyst was, it opened a valve that he never managed to close; his mind was flooded by thoughts of blonde hair and nostalgic smiles. Suddenly Kel was thinking about Basil all the time, hoping to catch a peek at him whenever he left the house. Whenever he did it felt like something was creeping and slithering in his chest.
Kel thought the wiggly feeling might have been love. He thought the persistent itchiness in his throat was just allergies.
He didn’t know what to make of the petals. Those came in little scraps that felt like velvet between his fingers. They came ripped up from their trip up his throat; sometimes he found them stuck between his teeth after eating, like they had just innocently snuck their way there. It didn’t hurt back then, and for a while it was just a tickle in his throat and a fun little party trick only he knew about.
(When wet-with-spit became wet-with-blood, it stopped being fun.)
He didn’t even realize the little scraps were from flowers until he started coughing up entire petals. By that point he was able to look into it at his middle school’s library, which was basically the only time he ever visited it.
Learning he had a terminal illness was, of course, scary. But there was something romantic about his love for Basil taking the form of flowers; he found himself wanting to see it grow even stronger, despite how lethal the books said it could be.
At night, he dreamed about Basil’s gentle fingers combing through his hair, tucking flowers behind his ears and braiding stems around the crown of his head. When he woke up, he decided maybe he’d start growing his hair out for high school.
--
Of course he thought about talking to Basil again. He was always thinking about Basil, of course he’d want to reach for that closeness they used to have (and maybe shrink it, bring them even closer…)
But he knew that the flowers in his brain would eventually lead to the flowers in his throat. There was no way he wouldn’t slip up somehow, get too excited and mention his feelings; and he was clumsy with feelings, he already knew that. He had tried to talk to his brother about feelings once, back when Hero was still drowning in grief, and that had ended in shouting—and Hero never shouted. He rarely got angry about anything.
So Kel could only imagine what would happen if he told Basil (sweet Basil, optimistic but sensitive, so quick feel and sympathize and worry) what his feelings meant. Actually, he could imagine what would happen: he’d say something like “I love you so much there are flowers growing inside me, haha, isn’t that funny? Because you love flowers! And I love you! So much I might die from it!” and then Basil would freak out and think he had to accept Kel’s feelings, because he’s nice like that and also wouldn’t want his friend to die, but then that would be the same thing as forcing him into it, wouldn’t it?
So talking to Basil was definitely a bad idea. He was happy to love from afar, quietly nurturing the garden growing in his chest; and when he wasn’t happy, he could just lose himself in practice games and training. That’s a lot of what he’d done since he stopped talking to his friends; he let himself get absorbed in sports, in his teammates, in improvement and hustle and growth that had nothing to do with flowers.
--
As months went by petals turned into partially-opened buds, which became chunks of blossoms and then, too healthy to break apart in his lungs, full flowers. Some days he spent hours coughing himself raw until the head of the flower crowned; he would reach into his mouth to pry it out only to pluck petals between his pinched fingers. A few times he accidentally pushed the flower back down that way; he learned to reach in and widen the opening of his throat, choking and gagging until the flower was finally pushed out and pressed against his teeth.
When the sale sign popped up in front of Sunny’s house, it was just the distraction he needed.
Kel hadn’t expected his hangout with Sunny to lead him to Basil, but there was no way he was going to ignore his old friend being bullied! And after that it became an excuse to walk him home, an excuse to do something nice, an excuse to eat dinner with him…none of those thoughts were at the forefront of his mind when he made those decisions, but they served as a quiet motivation behind every action, spurring him whichever direction pointed toward Basil.
It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to be near Basil, and maybe that rush was what kept him from noticing the weirdness right away. But sometime between their first conversation and the end of dinner, Basil stopped looking in his direction and started looking at Sunny. And then he kept looking at Sunny.
The way Basil looked at him was different than how he looked at Kel. And Kel hadn’t known the reason for that, but he’d been smart enough to know it meant something. In the end those thoughts became buried under more important things, Hero’s return and Aubrey’s attitude and all that other stuff...but every time they opened up the photo album Kel couldn’t ignore how many photos Sunny showed up in.
Then came the fight, the hospital, and Sunny’s confession. They all needed some time apart to process everything, Hero most of all...but in the end they all reunited a few days later and gathered around Basil’s hospital bed, flipping through the album together one last time.
For one singular moment they were all friends again, reunited...Yet Kel couldn’t help but feel a little relieved when Sunny was released from the hospital that night. They watched as he climbed into his mother’s car with the album tucked under his arm, off to a new home in a new town. As the car turned the corner and disappeared from view Kel felt himself breathe easier, and despite how they acted Kel guessed everyone else was a little relieved too.
Maybe not Basil, though. Basil was alone with the truth again, but this time he had Aubrey and Hero’s wariness and closed-off smiles. Even Kel was a little nervous to get close again, despite more-or-less understanding what Basil did...going to those lengths to protect Sunny from judgement. Trying to carry the burden of death so it didn't hurt another. Being bound by a shared secret, even when they were apart.
Sunny was gone, but Kel wasn’t sure he could compete with the hole he had left behind.
--
A few days later Kel heard Basil was also released from the hospital. That night he dreamed of Basil putting flowers in his hair again; he woke to a gentle movement in his throat, a slow and soft push, push up that closed his airways and had adrenaline shooting through his veins.
It was on nights like these that Kel was grateful Hero had left for college. He could cough and heave as loudly as he needed for as long as it took, stretching the opening of his throat until his fingers were cramped and wet with saliva. He groaned and clenched until the flowers fought their way out, landing with a gross splat on the hardwood floor.
Chest heaving, Kel gasped for air as he followed the trail of spit down to the pile of flowers he’d coughed up. Despite everything he’d learned about Basil, love still crowded for space inside him as it inched it’s way to the surface. The thought was oddly comforting. He looked at the flowers, wilted and bruised, moonlight shining off of the pool of drool they sat in, and wondered if he should have brought Basil flowers while he was still in the hospital.
“Heh, I wonder if he’d have liked these….” Tears began to blur the flowers in front of him as he absently wiped the wetness from his mouth; his hand came back red. Kel smeared the blood on his pajama pants and curled in on himself. “I don’t even know what kind of flowers these are, so I can’t ask.”
--
Kel wondered how long it would be until he was back in that hospital, as a patient instead of a visitor.
Like all troubling thoughts, he tried to bury these worries with sports. But they always managed to break the surface and sprout anew, easier and easier as the days went on; the fear only got stronger as his body grew weaker.
It was hard to distract himself with basketball when sometimes he struggled to even make it to practice. Fatigue weighed heavy in his limbs, muscle weakness made his body feel too heavy for him to lift...his teammates ran a pace he couldn’t always keep up with anymore. Instead the bench was catching up to him, and rather than fearing that he almost welcomed it.
It felt like the flowers were sucking all the energy out of him. He wondered sometimes, gasping over the flowers that drained him just coming up, if that’s what was happening: if those roots digging into his insides were feeding on his strength. Maybe that’s why even without sunlight the petals grew so strong and numerous, their purple so vibrant. Maybe that's why the blooms were so big and healthy, the stems so hard to chew through.
These days, he thought about the flowers just as much as he thought about Basil. Maybe more.
But the flowers were just as much a part of him as his love was, and he couldn’t imagine getting rid of either. He didn’t know how to approach the subject of his illness in a sensitive way, so he decided not to approach it at all; and that meant not approaching Basil, either. But it wasn't like Basil was going to like him back anyway...he wasn’t someone like Sunny.
No, Kel was someone who was so afraid to say the wrong thing that he ignored his friend for years and never noticed the bullying. Kel was someone who still hadn't talked to Basil since he learned the truth about Mari's death, even though Basil was probably anxious and alone again.
But Kel was also someone who was resilient by nature, who could survive even in seemingly impossible conditions. Basil had told him that once.
So that's what he was going to do. Survive. Endure. Tough it out.
--
When Kel opened the door, Hero was already standing inside their room and staring into Kel’s trash.
“Woah, bro! What are you doing home?” Kel shut the door, shrugging off his backpack and wincing at the heavy thud it made as it hit the floor. “You, um, you were supposed to come this weekend, right? You’re early!”
“Yeah, my professor cancelled class.” Hero was still looking into the trash can. Kel couldn’t read his tone; his voice was completely level.
“That’s cool, I’m sure Mom and Dad are happy! Did you surprise them, too? Sorry about the mess, I meant to clean up a little before you came but—”
“Kel.”
“—you kinda caught me by surprise, haha! Oh jeez, I left clothes all over your side of the room, didn’t I? Mom’s trying to teach me to do my own laundry, but—”
“Kel.”
“—I always end up throwing it everywhere—”
“ Kel. ”
“—and then I just forget about it—”
“ KEL .”
Kel stopped, smile still stretched tight across his face. His palms were sweating; god, they were sweating so much, more than they did at practice. He kept his gaze glued to the floor, as if his eyes were a magnet and Hero was the other part of the magnet.
“...Kel, come here. Please.”
Surrender hit him heavily, a stone sinking in his stomach. Slowly, Kel crossed the room and let Hero wrap his arms around him. Beside them, red-spotted tissues and rotting flowers poked out from Kel’s trash.
“Do Mom and Dad know?”
Kel shook his head, burying his face deeper into his brother’s shirt. “They’re too busy with Sally to notice.”
Hero rubbed slow, soothing circles into his back, even though Kel was probably gross and sweaty from practice. “How about anyone else? Your friends? The school nurse?”
“No one knows.”
“How long have you been hiding this?” Kel felt Hero’s head shift, probably to take another look into the trash; full heads of flowers poked out from the blood-speckled tissues, the blossoms too large to be considered early-stage hanahaki even in their withered states.
Kel struggled to swallow. “A while. Over a year.”
Hero didn’t make a sound, but Kel was close enough to feel his muscles tense. A light tug guided him toward the mattress, and Kel let himself be moved so they were sitting on his bed.
“Do you know who it’s for?”
“Yeah. It’s a lost cause, though.”
“Do you know that for certain?” Hero sounded so quiet, so gentle. “Lots of people end up putting off a confession because they think their feelings are unrequited, but—”
“I know, okay? I’m sure.” Oh no...he could feel his lip begin to tremble, a sob crawling into his voice. Even without looking, Kel could sense Hero’s face fall; maybe it was a brother thing. He could feel Hero’s sorrow as if it were tangible.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone, Kel? This must be so painful...”
“I’m...I’m the one who toughs things out, right? Basil told me that once.” Kel felt his chest tighten painfully at the memory, and against his will tears sprung from his eyes. “I’m the one you’re not supposed to worry about. You guys, you all have to deal with so much already, but I’m strong. I’m….” His voice wobbled, watery and threatening to spill. He tried to sniff again, suck the tears back in, but it broke into a sob; ducking down, he let his hair hide his face from view.
“Kel…”
“I mean, I can handle a broken heart,” and now the words were spilling out, everything he’d shoved down inside him, “but this isn’t fair! I’m supposed to try out for the varsity team this year, but if my breathing gets any worse— hic —if I get any weaker, what do I have then? I’m not smart like you are, Hero, if I don’t have sports then there’s nothing to be proud of—”
Suddenly Kel wrenched himself back, looking up at Hero with wide, terrified eyes. “You’re not going to tell, are you?” Kel choked on the words, not bothering to hide how water-clogged his voice had become. “Please don’t tell Mom and Dad!”
“Kel, I’m a medical student! I can’t just ignore this!” Hero kept their eyes locked, even as Kel's brimmed over with tears. “You know how serious hanahaki is, right? you know I have to tell someone!”
Kel rammed his face into Hero’s chest, not bothering to hold back his sobs anymore. “Don’t!! Please, don’t!!” He clung on tight, smearing snot and tears into the front of Hero’s shirt. “You can’t, you can’t!! Hero!!”
Hero wrapped his arms around Kel again, crushing him tight. For a long time they just stayed like that, Hero holding him like Kel was falling apart and Hero could squeeze him back together. It was like that for so long that Kel couldn’t help but jump a little when Hero finally spoke again.
“...I won’t tell, on one condition. Tomorrow, you go find that person and tell them your feelings.” Hero kept rubbing circles into Kel’s back, pressing hard. “If that doesn’t work, I’m telling Mom and Dad. But you have to try, Kel.”
Kel just clung tighter, new sobs shaking through him. Hero started to rock them, probably without meaning to: a nervous habit rather than a conscious way to comfort him. “Kel, can you do that? Can you find that person tomorrow? If you can, promise me you’ll try to confess. You can’t lie.”
Kel nodded, even though he didn't want to. Then he let Hero hold him until the rocking stopped.
--
Thoughts circled through Kel’s head as he walked to Basil’s house. Most of them were about Sunny: at some point, Kel had been certain Basil liked him. But then again, wasn’t the reason Basil paid him special attention because of their shared secret? Which meant maybe Kel had a chance after all. But then, that didn’t explain why there were so many photos of Sunny in the album. Except, maybe there hadn’t been all that many? Maybe insecurity had just made him conscious of every Sunny photo that was there. Besides, they were kids back then, Basil took those photos years ago…
And anyway, Sunny had moved away. That was the thought Kel landed on as he turned onto Basil’s street: Sunny wasn’t here. Even if Basil had liked Sunny (which wasn’t certain!), there was a chance Basil could like Kel, too. Maybe this could be the start of something great!
He found himself at the front step of Basil’s house. It felt like he’d gotten there way too fast.
' Okay Kel ,' he thought to himself, 'here's the plan. First, you ask him what the flowers are called. That's why you came over: to ask your flower-expert friend about the flowers. That's normal, right?' Kel nervously looked down at the mass of flowers in his hands; he'd gathered as many undamaged ones as he could, then wrapped them in a shiny, crinkly paper leftover in one of the gift bags from Sally's baby shower. He was pretty sure when they bought flowers from FIX-IT they were wrapped like this, though theirs probably looked a lot better. Their's also likely had long stems instead of the short, chewed up ones his had; he'd tried to cut them so the teeth marks were less obvious, but that had made them even shorter. It was more of a bundle than a bouquet...
Kel took a deep breath and shook his head. He had to stop overthinking things; there was no time to make a new plan.
He’s going to ask what the flowers are called. After that he’ll ask: "Do you like them? If you do, you can have them!" Then he'd confess; it felt extra special to do it with flowers he grew himself, but he knew he would have confessed to Basil with flowers no matter what.
That thought brought him comfort: Hanahaki or no, he was giving a confession he'd be proud of. Bolstered by that knowledge, he rocked back on his feet and punched in the doorbell.
Nerves had him jumping a little when a non-Basil face appeared in the door. Polly smiled down at him, though she seemed to be trying to poorly cover up her confusion. “Good morning, Kel! Are you here to see Basil? I hadn’t heard he was having friends over today.”
“That’s because I came as a surprise! Is he home?” Kel tried not to feel self-conscious about the flowers crinkling behind his back; he saw Polly eye him and his obviously-hidden-something curiously, but after a moment she opened the door wider and stepped aside.
“He should be in his room; I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. It’s been a while since anyone has visited!”
“Haha, yeah...thanks Polly!”
Swallowing the guilty lump in his throat (and getting a cough for his troubles), Kel ran into the house and made a b-line for Basil’s room. For a second he couldn’t help remembering the last time he’d been there, the sight of Sunny and Basil bleeding out in darkness burned into his memory—but as he opened the door that scene was washed away with a wave of sunlight.
Basil was standing in the back of the room, watering some plants by the window. The sun's rays cast him in harsh relief, a silhouette surrounded by a halo of light. When Basil looked up, his eyes were wide with surprise.
“Kel? What are you doing here?”
Kel took in a hundred observations at once—the subtle fear in Basil’s expression, how the black eye Sunny gave him had faded, how just looking at Basil made warmth bloom up in him—and found himself grinning ear-to-ear. For some reason he had thought it would be harder to come back; but this was still Basil, his longtime friend, his first love.
“Hi Basil! I hope you don’t mind me dropping by!” Kel took a second to cough, clearing his throat of it’s familiar, painful itch. “I missed you!”
Some of the wariness fell from Basil’s features, as if melted by his enthusiasm. “I missed you too, Kel. What made you stop by?”
“Oh! Um…” grin growing a tad wider, he brandished the bunch of flowers he was hiding, thrusting them forward with a flourish. “I found these, and I wanted to see if you knew what kind of flowers they were!”
Kel knew he’d messed up the moment that fear returned to Basil's eyes. “Kel, those are..!”
Kel quickly hid them behind his back again, the paper crinkling loudly in his grip. One of the flowers slipped out from the bundle, rolling onto the ground and petering to a stop beside him. Basil’s eyes flew down to it, terror written across his face.
Kel knew exactly what Basil was seeing. “...you can tell?”
“Zinias are supposed to be circular, like globes...” Basil seemed to get lost in the flower on the floor, eyes glued to it’s large, full bloom and rows of petals compressed like they had been dragged through a small space. “For it to advance this far... Kel..!”
Kel tried to give a nervous laugh, but fear had made his throat go dry and he only ended up coughing again.
His face was burning; he shouldn’t have done this. But now he had to find a way to get rid of the worry in Basil’s eyes. “I’m fine!” Clearing his throat as quietly as he could, he added, “seriously, I’m okay. Sorry for showing you something gross.”
“How can you be okay?! For you to have that many flowers, you—” Basil stopped, eyes snapping up to meet Kel’s own. “You brought me flowers?”
Kel’s hands were trembling; another flower tumbled from the bouquet, and then a third. As it rolled into view, Kel couldn’t help but notice there was a faint rust-colored stain on one of the petals.
Kel’s lip trembled; any excuses or deflections he had withered into a sheepish smile. Unable to find any words, he simply nodded and continued staring at the floor; he was glad to not see the regret on Basil’s face that accompanied the hitch in his breath.
“Kel—”
“It’s alright.” He did his best to look up again, pulling on his brightest grin. “I knew telling you would just make you feel guilty, so I didn’t see any point making you feel bad over it. I’m sorry for making you sad.”
Another coughing fit ripped through him then; his vision tunneled as he focused on getting through it, and he didn’t realize he was lowering to his knees. He didn’t notice when Basil left the room, either, so he was surprised when a glass of water was eventually pushed into his chest.
Basil knelt in front of him, panicked-tears welling up in his eyes. Kel threw down the rest of the flowers and grabbed the glass, drinking it down until the coughing stopped. He urgently needed to pull himself together, he was scaring Basil, he was messing everything up.
When he looked up again Basil was still crying, breaths coming fast and shallow. He looked so hopeless, so afraid...like his friend was dying in front of him and there was nothing he could do to help.
“Don’t cry, Basil.” He wasn’t sure if his voice was raw with emotion or the recent coughing fit; maybe it was both. “If you cry, you’ll make me cry too.” The sob had already started to crest through the last few words, though; Kel took a painful, ragged breath and felt tears cascade down his cheeks. “I’m sorry...I know you don’t feel the same way, but...I guess there was still a part of me that kept hoping you could save me.”
Basil startled, fear pushing a new wave of tears from his eyes. “I-I’m not supposed to try to save people anymore. ”
Kel felt something scratch against his throat, the familiar nudge of a flower rising into his airway; he doubled-over, hands on his throat, and over the coughing he faintly heard Basil shriek.
“What do I do…?” Basil looked at Kel, the empty glass rolling across the floor, the bruised and wilted flowers crushed under their knees. A harsh, choking cough cut through the room as Kel struggled to breathe. “Oh no, no no no, Kel...”
Basil sat rigid for a moment, gripped by fear, before he surged forward and rammed his lips into Kel’s. Kel felt something stab through him; he gasped out another painful cough, splattering Basil with a spray of blood.
Basil reared back, hands over his mouth. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Kel!”
But Kel couldn’t hear over the roaring in his ears. He just kept retching, desperately trying to purge himself of the things growing inside him. Faintly, part of him noticed Basil running from the room.
--
Kel opened his eyes to find Basil kneeling at the foot of his hospital bed, hesitantly crawling over him. The cot creaked and shifted until Basil stopped at Kel's waist, hovering over him with that wary smile he always seemed to wear nowadays.
"Kel, can I...?" Leaning close, Basil placed a hand on his cheek. Kel sighed at the touch; then Basil placed his thumb on Kel's lips and nudged them apart. Obediently, Kel opened his mouth and laid his head back so Basil could look inside.
Basil's other hand held the garden shears; Kel knew this without seeing them, the way some dreams allowed. Basil took a shaky breath, raised the shears, and pointed them down into Kel's mouth.
"Don't worry Kel.” His voice was so soft, so sorry. “I'll cut the weeds out."
'But it isn't a weed-" he tried to say, before he woke up choking. The cloying smell of zania's filled his nose and throat, suffocating, sharp like blades—
Hero caught him as he fell from his hospital bed, shouting for help.