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“Hanahaki, a disease where the victim of unrequited love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs, which will eventually grow large enough to render breathing impossible if left untreated until the victim dies unless the feelings are returned or the plants are surgically removed.”
Keeho thought it was absurd. Keeho thought it was fictitious, that this could never happen to a human being. Yet he was wrong, and there he was, in the medical center, hearing the words exit the doctor’s lips. It felt like being punched in the stomach. He didn’t remember. He didn’t remember anything, except for one familiar name. Choi Jiung.
“Sir, a-are you certain about this?” the black-haired questioned, not being able to wrap his head around it all. He felt like he had swallowed lead.
“Yes, I’m afraid that you do indeed have all the symptoms of Hanahaki,” the doctor answered, pity heard clear in his tone.
The boy didn’t understand. How could he possibly have this disease when he wasn’t even in love? He was almost certain that no one held such importance in his life romantically. Keeho stood up and left the room with a heavy sigh and heart, the door slamming shut behind him with a loud thud.
The male's mind was set on one thing. He needed to figure out why and how this had become his fate, and he needed to rid himself of it as quickly as possible. As he pondered this, the male thought about who was doing this to him unknowingly. They were living their day-to-day life, oblivious to the fact that they were slowly killing someone from the inside out.
Suddenly, the boy slowed his pace as he came to a realization. There was only one person who could possibly come to his mind. The reason he was suffering through this. The reason why he coughed up flower petals every morning, which were beginning to become more frequent. The reason why he had four months left to live. It was Choi Jiung.
«»
He didn’t believe it. It couldn’t be him, could it? Keeho always thought that Jiung was a good friend, nothing more, nothing less. But now that he thought about it, no one else could possibly fit into the category. The black-haired had always felt...different about the other. It was a different kind of emotion, not the kind of feeling most people would have towards a friend. It would grow stronger with every passing day, almost like a blossoming flower.
The younger had met Keeho at the clinic where the doctors (Dr. Hwang and Dr. Kim) would run tests on him, trying to figure out how to help him. It turned out that Jiung was another one of their patients who had undergone the same surgery as Keeho, but he had surpassed the memory span. He was still learning everything and hadn’t lost his memory, which puzzled the doctors. They made him come in daily to take different tests and solve challenges. The pair would talk to one another almost all the time, bonding over their interest in books. The younger would even read aloud to the black-haired sometimes, stopping every now and then to explain the somewhat difficult words and concepts. They became very close, and that’s when his feelings started to develop. He didn’t know they were of love, though.
The boy burst through the doors of the clinic, running through the halls looking desperately for Jiung's room. He shoved the nurses and physicians aside as he finally found it, opening it aggressively. There he was, being effortlessly beautiful like an angel. His shiny dyed hair, perfectly in place. His plump, round lips. His sharp jawline and nose. The elder blinked, coming out of his daze.
“Oh, hey, Keeho!” the other exclaimed, waving at him excitedly.
“H-Hey, Jiung,” the older boy answered, stuttering slightly. Why did he come here? What was he even going to do, or say? He couldn’t just tell him to his face that he was going to die because of him.
“It’s not because of him, you idiot, it’s because of you,” Keeho muttered to himself, staring at the ground.
“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you,” the younger asked, hopping up from the bed (to his nurse’s annoyance) to join the other boy.
“Oh, nothing, don’t worry about it,” the black-haired boy reassured, looking up and giving the other a small smile.
“If you say so!” Jiung grinned, sitting back down on the examination table.
Keeho rocked on his heels awkwardly, not sure what to say. What could he say, anyway?
“So, why are you here, Hyung? You came in rather loudly, so I bet it’s something important,” the younger pointed out after a while of silence, curious.
“Oh, um, well…” the boy trailed, lost as to what to say.
“Yeah? You know you can tell me anything, Hyungie,” Jiung assured him with a smile.
"I...I have to use the restroom, I’ll be right back!” the elder rambled, flustered.
He exited the room just as quickly as he had come and dashed for the restroom. It wasn’t a complete lie if he was being honest. The sensation was back again, tickling the inside of his chest. It was growing stronger and stronger, so much so that he began to cough. The running wasn’t helping either. He finally made it to the lavatory and burst it open, finding the nearest stall and locking himself inside.
He made it just in time because the second he got in there, he violently jerked forward, beginning to cough uncontrollably. The male felt the thorns scratch their way up his throat, leaving it raw and bleeding. Still coughing, he felt the petals gather in his mouth, blocking his airflow even more. Keeho spat them out, watching the pink petals swirl around in the now red water. The boy clutched his throat in pain, shutting his eyes tightly as he felt hot tears roll down his cheeks. He just wished it would all be over. The pain, the petals, everything. What if he just got the surgery? He would lose all his feelings, yes, but wouldn’t it be easier? He wouldn’t have to live with the constant pain, knowing that there was a plant growing inside him, eating him alive from the inside out. He was going to die without the surgery anyway, it wasn’t like Jiung felt the same way.
The black-haired rose, flushing down the bits of petals and thorns that had come from him down, watching the red water turn back to its normal transparent shade. He exited the place, deciding that seeing the younger boy again wasn’t in the best interest of his body. Keeho strolled around the city since it had been a while since he had done that, and getting fresh air seemed like a good idea. What was he going to do? He was going to die. There had to be some way to put an end to it all. There had to be.
“Hyung! Where have you been?”
The said boy turned around, looking for who had called his name. It was the person he wanted to see least at that moment.
“Hey, Jiungie,” the black-haired forced a smile, waving in the boy’s direction as he ran towards him.
The younger engulfed him in a hug as he approached, burying his face in the elder’s shoulder. The other was taken aback, not expecting the sudden contact. He hugged him as well, patting his back.
“Jiung-ah, is everything okay? What’s going on?” the boy questioned worriedly, playing with the other’s hair.
“It’s all good, I just missed you. You never came back,” he answered, though it came out muffled.
“Oh yeah, I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s okay! Are you busy right now or do you want to get ice cream with me?” the younger asked him cheerfully, switching topics. He broke the hug, looking at the elder pleadingly.
“O-Oh, sure we can get ice cream together, let’s go!”
Keeho grinned at the other’s giddiness and let him lead the way. At some point along the path, their fingers intertwined and the pair were walking hand in hand, which did something to the elder’s heart. He stared at Jiung, admiring his features. Could anyone be more perfect? The boy shook his head as if to get the thoughts out of his mind. If he wanted to get better, he had to stop thinking that way.
“We’re here!” the taller exclaimed, stopping abruptly. The elder met his eyes and held his gaze, mirroring the other’s smile.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”
And with that, the pair headed inside, their hands never letting go.
«»
Keeho choked. It was different this time, different than all the others. It was stronger, fiercer, and the urge to spit it out of his system was more powerful. He didn’t know why and he didn’t know what was going on, but it was different. With a hurl, he leaned forward as the petals began making their way up his throat, choking him. The black-haired hacked, wondering why it felt strange to him. After another coughing fit, the male clasped his hands around his throat as the flower petals scratched the insides of his mouth, the taste of blood filling it up. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to get that stuff out of him. The boy continued wheezing until finally, finally, he felt the petals exit his mouth and fall onto the floor. He opened his eyes slowly, and to his horror, instead of just a few petals and thorns, it was an entire flower. Right out in front of him, an entire fully bloomed flower, drenched in blood’s unholy color.
And then, all he could taste was blood. All he could feel was his throat, now scratched and ripped apart by the thorns. The scarlet liquid dribbled down his chin as he spat out bunches of it. His eyes flickered to his hands to find them stained dark red just like the carpet was turning, tears present on his cheeks. He was going to die, and there was no one who could help him.
«»
“Hyung, Hyung! Keeho Hyung, wake up, please! Oh my god, I have to call an ambulance.”
Keeho fluttered his eyes, trying to stay awake. He was confused, wondering how he got there in the first place. All he remembered was the coughing, the scratching, the bleeding, and seeing thirty fully grown flowers spread out in front of him.
He knew it was starting to get worse when he coughed up one entire flower the first time, but then slowly, it became more frequent and in higher quantities. It would start randomly, and soon he would end up with around five or so flowers coughed up every hour. The boy would always be weak after an episode, so he would usually lie down on the floor to settle his lungs and steady his breathing, but that last one had been intense. From his understanding, it seemed that he had passed out completely and someone had found him.
Keeho didn’t know who, but the voice seemed familiar. He tried lifting his head up to try and catch a glimpse at whoever found him, but his vision was blurry and he could only make out the outline of a tall male figure. The other male, pacing back and forth, saw him try to look at him and walked over, kneeling down next to the black-haired.
“Hey, Hyung, it’s me, it’s Jiung,” the boy informed, smiling down at him.
“Oh! Hey, Jiungie,” the older boy replied, but it came out as more of a whisper since he could barely talk.
“Shh, don’t speak. I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but it seems like you can’t talk.”
The elder just nodded, signaling that the boy was correct.
“Well, the ambulance is on their way, they should be here soon to help you.”
There was a pause, neither of them sure of what to say.
“Hey, Jiung-ah?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
Keeho gave him a soft smile, reaching out his hand to put atop the younger’s. If he was going to die soon, he should spend his last moments with the younger anyway.
The other boy grinned, squeezing his hand, “Anything for you.”
Suddenly, Keeho's hand slipped off the younger's and his whole body went limp. His eyes flickered, and he looked at the other one last time before closing them.
“Hyung, Keeho Hyung! Wake up! Please tell me you’re joking, right? You’re not dead, right? You can’t be! Hyung! Hyung!”
Jiung screamed his name, calling him multiple times and shaking him repeatedly. It was no use, the male was as still as a rock. The boy reached his hand out to feel for a pulse and found nothing. The boy began to panic. He wasn’t waking up, and the ambulance wasn’t even here yet. The boy didn’t know who else to call for help. Dr. Hwang? Dr. Kim? No, he would just call them at the hospital.
The male looked around the room, searching for anything that could lead him to figure out what could have happened to Keeho. All he saw were regular household items, nothing out of the ordinary. But then, as he looked at the carpeted floor beneath him, he saw. He saw the red, the dark, dark red that coated the ground. It was everywhere. The boy had felt it soak into his jeans, but he didn’t bother to check what it was. Yet, there wasn’t only the scarlet liquid covering the floor like a huge pool. There were flowers. Fully grown roses, covered in the same substance. Jiung was confused, to say the least. Flowers? Blood? What did it all mean? Is that what killed him, the flowers? But how?
“Hyung...please, wake up, you have to,” the younger sniffled, realizing he was crying.
He couldn’t lose him, he refused to. After a bit of silence, Jiung heard sirens sounding in the distance, and figured that the ambulance must be here.
“They’re here, just hold on for a little longer, Hyung.”
Less than a second later, there was a knock on the door, to which the boy answered, and then swarms of physicians came in, placing Keeho on a stretcher and rushing out. The male followed as the doctor’s allowed him to sit in the back of the truck with the injured boy. They were going to save him. They had to.
«»
It had all happened so fast that it had felt like a dream. He was dead. He was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. Jiung couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault as he stared at the once lively male laying on the hospital bed in front of him, now dead as wood.
After the doctors had taken them, Jiung had decided to call Dr. Kim and Dr. Hwang to the hospital. He felt like they should be there, it just felt right. The boy knew deep down that Keeho was already gone, but he wouldn’t accept it. There had to be some way to save him.
In just a few minutes, they arrived, and then the chaos had begun. They hurried inside the building, telling Jiung to stay with them until they could properly check him. The male ran after them, not letting anyone get in his way of seeing the boy. The nurses blocked him at the entrance of Keeho's room until the physicians could set him up to treat him.
“Please, let me get through, I have to see him!” Jiung yelled as he tried to push past them. His effort went down in vain since the nurses kept their guard up.
The male sighed and gave up, deciding he would just watch from the small window in the door. The attendants were pleased with that and left to address their other patients. Jiung watched as the doctors hooked the elder up to the heart monitor, and bit his lip harshly when the line came out flat. Meanwhile, Dr. Hwang and Dr. Kim had shown up, but the boy didn’t notice. He saw the looks of defeat on their faces as they came out to tell him the news.
“I’m afraid that he is already beyond saving, Sir,” one of them informed sadly, bowing slightly before they all left.
Jiung stood there speechless. He knew he was gone, but hearing someone else say it felt like a blow to the face. Without a word, the male dashed into the room, already at Keeho's side within seconds, grasping his hand.
“Hyung, you can’t be dead, you can’t be, it’s impossible. P-Please, come back!” he screamed, burying his face in the elder’s chest, sobbing his lungs out. Keeho was dead, and he wasn’t going to come back.
«»
Jiung didn’t know what to feel. He didn’t know what to think, or do, or say. All he could process was that his Hyung was dead. It kept replaying in his mind, when Keeho closed his eyes for the last time and as the boy watched him die. It felt like he had been hit by a thousand bricks because he could barely think about anything else other than the fact that the male dying was his fault. He should’ve realized sooner. He should have said something sooner. He should have asked him about it sooner.
Four months. Four entire months and Jiung kept it to himself. He knew the other was acting rather odd those past months, but he thought it was just him overanalyzing again. But of course, he wasn’t. Something was genuinely wrong with him and the boy just ignored it like dust. At the hospital, Dr. Kim and Dr. Hwang assured him that it wasn’t his fault, but he knew they were just saying that to make him feel better. If he had just said something, done something, maybe things could have ended differently.
If he had figured out his feelings sooner, things could have changed. But now he knew. He knew what he had felt all those months he had spent with Keeho. Almost two years and he finally realized now what he should have said ages ago.
“Hyung, I love you, I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”