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When Amelia first finds Forget-me-not flowers on her pillow, she ignores them.
The doctor in her is shrieking like someone who stumbled upon a corpse, but the detective side of her nonchalantly brushes them off into the waste bin. She starts her day like any other, completely unbothered by thoughts of flowers.
Ina greets her in the kitchen with a cup of tea, “Good morning. Sleep well?”
“Mmm.” Amelia takes the cup, closing her eyes to savor the smell. “I woke up without you.”
“Oh, dear.” Ina’s eyes are shining playfully, “We can’t have that. I’ll be sure to cross the hall in the night and slip into your bed. You won’t even notice me.”
Amelia pretends to think it over, exaggerating it by tilting her head back and humming. Ina giggles as she pinches Amelia’s shoulder.
“Ame! Don’t be mean.”
“When’s your date today?” Amelia asks lightly. She hides her mouth behind her cup.
Ina turns to face the counter when she rummages for something, “Oh… um, around noon. I’ll be home for dinner.”
“Want me to pick something up?”
“I actually want to make something.” Ina tilts her head back to smile. It’s softer than usual, something that has Amelia gripping her tea a little tighter. “Would you like that?”
“Yes.”
And just like every day, Ina reaches the distance between them and brushes Amelia’s bangs out of her face. She tucks them behind her ear. Amelia keeps her expression as neutral as possible. Ina’s face is a painted picture of fondness.
“Don’t work too hard today.” Her roommate whispers, “And save some room for dinner.”
Amelia clears her throat, “You know me.” She lowers her voice, “I’ve always got room for more.”
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At work, Amelia starts putting little lavender petals into a bag.
It’s a slow day at work meaning she’s not expected out in the field. A lot of what she’s doing is research and planning. There are documents and articles to be read. Throughout the day, a small itch would happen in her throat and she’d have to brush off another flower petal from her tongue.
She eyes them at the corner of her desk.
Logically, she knows they’re a threat. She absolutely knows what they represent and what it’s doing to her body. The doctor in her is still having the freak out of the century. The detective side of her reaches out to drag the bag closer by a finger.
They aren’t bloody. That’s good, she reasons. It means she didn’t get a fatal version of the disease. The coughing is an issue if she ever goes on missions that require stealth, but her concoction is more than capable of burning them away for that allotted time.
Amelia leans back in her chair.
“Burn it away…” She mumbles. Getting rid of the flower disease doesn’t get rid of feelings or emotions. Surgery is a temporary measure, but a useless one. If feelings aren’t resolved, the roots will just reappear in her lungs.
I’m gonna need a second opinion. She pulls up her phone and dials a number that’d give anyone a heart attack. Is it weird to have death's number on speed dial? She cracks a grin at that.
Calli answers, as punctual as always, “Watson. How’s it going?”
“Hey, sorry if I caught you at a bad time.” Amelia spins in her chair.
“Wh-” Amelia can hear the moment the stiff reaper persona falls off her friend, “No, no man, you didn’t bother me. What’s up?”
“Just a question actually. I’ll let you go right after.”
“I’m all ears.”
Amelia grabs a notebook and flips it open. She has a pen at the ready when she asks, “How many people have died from Hanahaki?”
The silence from Calli is deafening. Amelia schools her expression. They may not be face to face, but Calli isn’t dumb. She’d piece things together quickly.
“You want like, recent numbers?” Calli asks.
“A yearly average will do.”
“Not a lot.” The reaper hums. “There’s deadly versions of it and then much more mellow versions. Nobody dies from the less threatening kinds of it. It’s the ones that grow thorns that kill people.”
Amelia taps her pen on the notebook, “And it won’t go away until the infected person resolves their feelings on the matter.”
“Wrong, actually.” Calli’s voice changes. She sounds far away when she says, “... it relies on returned feelings.”
Amelia stiffens. Thoughts of a certain phoenix enter her head, “Calli-”
“It happened a long time ago.” Amelia can picture Calli’s weak smile in her head. “Don’t worry about it, Watson. I learned my lesson. Kusatori… Kiara’s healthy and happy.”
“Good.” Amelia breathes out. Her own situation sits sourly in her stomach, “Good, good. That’s all I wanted to call about.”
“Amelia.”
Amelia pauses over the end call button. The severity in Calli’s voice kept her still. The reaper's voice carries through softly, “You should tell her.”
“I can’t.”
“This isn’t just about you.” Calli sighs, “Look. Um, I won’t force you or like, judge you on decisions even though I do that a lot. Uh. I’m speaking as someone who went through that. On Ina’s side.”
Amelia closes her eyes. Shit.
Calli chuckles humorlessly, “Kiara had the deadly version, Watson. It doesn’t mean much to a phoenix, but… she was in a lot of pain. When I found out…”
Amelia sits in silence. Her pen sits stiffly in her palm. Her notebook is blank in her lap. With a sigh, she drops her head into her hands. “Calli, I can’t force feelings on her. She had a date today, did you know?”
“She-” Calli makes a strangled noise, “Oh, Watson, no.”
“Yeah.” Amelia runs a hand through her hair, “I missed my chance.”
“I’m...sorry.” Calli sounds like she’s grimacing, “Gah, that’s not the best reassurance. I’m really sorry. It’s not the bad type right?”
“No bloody petals. This detective is on a crash course to be a gardener.” Amelia winks at nothing.
Calli huffs, “Ha ha. Just remember what I said, okay? You might not have the bad type, but it’s still gonna hurt. If you’re serious about this, don’t ever let Ina find out. It’ll hurt her just as badly.”
“Roger that.” Amelia smiles. “Thanks, Calli. I owe you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
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Coughing sucked.
It’s barely been a few days since the initial petals were found on her pillow. Amelia dumps violets into the trash when Ina isn’t looking. She shoves bellflowers under her bed. Cosmos end up cluttering the floor of her closet. If she sees another iris petal she’s going to scream.
As it stands, she’s starting to lose her voice.
“Have you been feeling okay?” Ina asks. It’s hard to hide how rough her voice has gotten over the last few days. Ina notices because they’ve been roommates for a year. It's a miracle she's hidden it this long.
Amelia rubs her throat, “Yeah, I don’t know. I might be coming down with something.”
“Allergies?” Ina is reaching for a cupboard. “I’ll brew up something warm and tasty for you.”
Amelia’s heart flip flops, “You don’t have to.”
When Ina looks at her, it’s with a smile that has no right being that gentle. Amelia’s protests die on her lips. She has a quiet moment with her roommate, teacup in hand. She doesn’t say much. She listens to Ina’s voice as the itch in her throat starts to burn.
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The heliotropes in her office look gross.
Amelia examines the flowers blooming from the pots she bought yesterday. She only just planted these things and they’ve grown overnight into full bloom. She purses her lips and makes a note to buy more. It’s not like Ina visits her office anyway.
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She buys a room lock too.
Just in case.
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Here’s the good thing about hanahaki. Or at least what the internet tells her.
The majority of those who end up just dealing with the disease become gardeners. She thought that was pretty cheesy before, but after watching the flowers in her office bloom and then finding out the tragedy of her cosmos making a home on her carpet, well. She’s more keenly aware of where she leaves her petals now. She can’t even look under her bed. She’s afraid of whatever jungle’s become of it.
Here’s the bad thing about hanahaki.
Amelia sits in the bathroom at 2 am, her head miserably laying on the rim of the toilet because she’s spent the last half an hour throwing up petals into it. It’s not even sickness. You’re supposed to cough up the flower petals. That’s a good thing. That means your body is naturally getting rid of the excess stuff. The problem happens when a petal is accidently swallowed.
The doctor's side of her is crying. The detective side of her wants to write a nasty review of multiple hanahaki gardening articles.
“Ame?” Ina’s sleepy voice drifts through the door. It’s followed by a knock. “I heard you. You okay?”
Amelia closes her eyes tightly. Why? She mourns. Why can’t you make this easy?
“Stomach bug.” Amelia says. Her voice is wrecked. “Not...feeling too hot.”
“Oh.” Amelia feels her insides shred at how sad Ina sounds. “I don’t think we have any medicine for that.”
“Ina-”
“I’ll be right back.” Ina is much more awake when she says, “I’m gonna head down to the corner store and buy you some stuff. Will you drink some water for me while I’m gone?”
Amelia wilts, “...yeah.”
She can practically see the smile Ina has, “Thank you.”
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Her days at the office become exhaustion fueled naps. The disease is draining. Her throat constantly feels like it’s been scratched raw. At least it smells nice. No thanks to the garden growing over her desk and spilling onto the floor. Forget-me-nots, cosmos, violets, everything was growing in little pots. Amelia folds her arms across her desk and buries her head there. A lavender is tickling her ear.
Not the worst place to nap. She notes. Could be worse.
The door opens.
Right. Amelia grimaces. Job. Investigator. Clients.
“Hi, what can I do for you today?” She belts out the practiced line before she’s even raised her head. When she gets no response she looks up.
Ina is staring at her.
Amelia is frozen, the reality of what’s in front of her striking her cold. Her stomach drops to her toes. Swallowing roughly, she says, “Oh hey, Ina. I didn’t… didn't think you’d visit.”
Ina tilts her head. Her expression is vacant as she looks around the office. Amelia grips her desk as her roommate's gaze travels from plant to plant. From the cosmos taking over the window to the heliotropes beside her desk. Ina’s gaze lands on her. Amelia feels like she’d rather be shot.
Amelia furrows her brow, “...Ina?”
“Did you…” Ina looks like she’s struggling for words, “when did you buy all this?”
“Oh, recently.” Amelia tried for casual. She sounded too nervous. Get a grip! “It makes it look pretty, doesn’t it?”
Ina moves closer to the desk. She’s taking in the flowers there, her fingers reaching out and gently running along one of the lavenders there.
Amelia feels like she’s been gutted. The moment Ina touches one the tickle in her throat becomes a roar. She turns her head into her elbow and coughs.
“Still sick?” Ina asks softly.
Amelia tries to answer. The coughing eats her words up and she can feel them come out in the form of lilacs. Amelia keeps her face firmly glued into her arm. Even if she knows she’ll throw up, she’ll damn well swallow them if it means hiding it.
“Ame?”
She tries to wave her off. Oh, I should pretend I’m about to puke or something. Her brain is too fried to layer on the theatrics at the moment. She’s entirely unprepared for Ina to move around the desk. She’s not ready for gentle hands to take her arm away. The lilacs fall to the floor.
Ina looks at them.
“Uh.” Amelia grimaces at how gross her voice sounds, “Surprise?”
“Surprise.” Ina echoes distantly. Amelia can see her putting it together. The detective winces. She’s reaching down for the lilacs. Ina is quicker. Amelia feels it the moment her fingers close around the lilacs. It’s like her heart is being squeezed. Her lungs feel like they’ve been stuffed with cotton. Amelia almost falls out of her chair if Ina hadn’t caught her.
“Easy.” Amelia begs through gasping breaths, “Fragile. Don’t hurt those.”
“I won’t.” Ina whispers. She gently lays the lilacs on the desk. Amelia exhales shakily. The rubber band closing on her chest is released. “Ame? Is it…?”
Amelia closes her eyes. She can’t look Ina in the eye so she settles with burying her head into her shoulder, “Yeah. Hanahaki.”
“Do I know them?” Ina sounds fretful. Her fingers are carding through Amelia’s hair. It makes her heart ache. “How long has this been going on?”
“About two weeks,” Amelia murmurs. “Not long.”
Ina’s hand stills, “...the day I went on a date?”
Amelia shudders. She keeps her mouth closed, afraid of anything other than words spilling out. You can’t. She scolds herself. You can’t.
“Ame.” Ina’s voice in her ear gives her chills, “Who is it?”
“Uh,” Amelia breathes, “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“I think it is.”
“What makes you say that?”
Amelia feels her lungs tremble. Her heart feels like it’s bursting into a thousand little shards. She struggles to breath against the overwhelming feelings. She can see in the corner of her eye Ina touching the lilacs. Ina retracts her hand and the feeling disperses just as quickly as it started. Amelia’s left shaking, trying to find her breath.
Ina’s gaze is heartbroken, “I know who it is.”
Amelia slumps, “I’m sorry.”
“Why’d you hide it?” Ina looks wounded as she brushes Amelia’s fringe aside. The action is so familiar that Amelia relaxes. “Ame? What was going through your head?”
“You had a date.” Amelia points out weakly. “I thought…”
Ina cups her jaw. Her thumb runs gentle circles over Amelia’s cheek. Amela sighs, leaning into the touch. Ina is closer, close enough to press her forehead to hers.
“Stop thinking.” Ina whispers.
When Ina kisses her, it’s like a healing salve pouring down her throat. Amelia melts, every ache and pain from the last two weeks washing away tic by tic. Ina’s fingers play along her jaw and brush just below her ear. It’s a rhythm that soothes her nerves. She feels like she can breathe for the first time. She doesn’t even realize she’s crying until Ina pulls back worriedly.
“Does it hurt?” She asks.
Amelia chokes out a laugh, “No.” She loops her arms around Ina’s neck, “Not anymore.”
Ina smiles in relief. Amelia likes it so much she dives in for another kiss. Ina giggles, ducking her head shyly. Amelia chases her to pepper kisses on her face.
“Ame.” Ina laughs, “That tickles.”
“Revenge.” Amelia says, “Imagine how my throat felt. Do you know how in love I am with you? Unbelievable.”
“Use your words next time.” Ina teases, eyes shining with an emotion that steals something from her. Ina glances at her desk, “Though I suppose giving me so many flowers is romantic too.”
“If you think that’s romantic,” Amelia grins, “wait till you see the inside of my closet.”
Ina laughs.
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“Hey Calli, I know you’re super busy, but I wanted to say thanks! For the advice. Um, I know what you mean now. It all worked out in the end, I was just being… dumb.”
“Is it weird Ina is keeping the flowers? Actually, why am I asking? I’ve seen the marigolds in your room. You’re not slick.”
“Next time you visit, I’ll give you my stupid gardening books. I’m done with flowers.”
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END