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Sundays were designated to picking flowers, planting new one, and visiting with the forest animals. Zemo looked forward to it every week and found that he was happiest then and it put him in a good mood for the following week. This week was no different.
Zemo woke up late Sunday morning, making sure he was well rested for the busy day ahead. Once he was up and on his way he noticed he had a strange feeling about today. Something wasn’t right but he was determined to not let anything mess up his day of flowers and forest fun.
Zemo went on his way with a skip in his step and a tune hummed on his lips. He found himself in a new meadow for the day, planning to fix it up and make it a beautiful oasis for the local forest creatures.
After settling in to start his work, Zemo got lost in his craft. His mind wandered with thoughts of the beautiful flowers he would get to see grow and the hummingbirds, bees, and bunnies that they would attract to this wonderful meadow.
Before he knew it the skies were turning shades of pink and orange as the sun began to set and the night loomed closer. Zemo always tried his best to not be out after dark. When he was young he was always told about the werewolves and other evil creatures that roamed his beloved forest in the darkness of night.
Zemo started packing up the flowers he had picked and the seeds left over from planting. As he put the last flower in his bouquet, he heard the crunch of a twig behind him. Turning he was met by a sight he had hoped to never have to face.
It was one of them. The werewolves he had always been told of. This one with a huge hulking frame covered in gorgeous white fur, eyes a steel blue that shone beautifully in the light of the setting sun, and a snarl showing long white fangs and drops of saliva.
Zemo startled back and fell on his bum, dropping the basket in the process and leaving a spattering of flowers and petals at his feet.
The wolf began advancing towards Zemo and he found himself unable to move away or get up and run. The eyes staring him down held so much emotion. It didn’t feel like he was gazing into the face of a beast, he felt as though his eyes were locked onto a tortured and broken soul that was scared but couldn’t ask for help, using the image that others had thrust onto him to stay hidden and safe.
As the eyes grew closer, Zemo felt himself grow calmer. Not fearing for his life as he somehow knew that this wolf wouldn’t hurt him.
Once the wolf was a few feet away it looked as though it was confused. Why wasn’t this young fae running from him like every other one had? Why wasn’t he scared?
The wolf continued till he was within touching distance. There he dropped his snarl and ran his eyes down the body before him. There wasn’t a single sign that the boy was scared or aggressive or anything but calm and curious.
The wolf lowered his body till he was laying flat on the ground, resting his head on his front paws as close to the boy as possible without touching.
Zemo leaned forward off of his hands and gazed down at the werewolf in curiosity. Looking at him up close he saw a scar tracking down the left side of the wolf's face and obscuring the fur. He hesitantly reached out his hand, not wanting to startle the large creature. When the wolf closed his eyes and kept his head low Zemo took it as permission and reached out further, tracing his finger down the path the scar created ever so gently.
The wolf let out what could only be a sigh, his muscles relaxing deeper into the forest floor at the gentle touch from the fae before him. Hearing the sound, Zemo leaned further so he could pet down the wolf's head and towards his spine, before pulling his hand back and resting it in his lap.
The wolf opened his eyes and gazed up at Zemo with a tender expression. Zemo smiled down and asked, “What’s your name? Or wait, can you talk?” At the shake of the wolf’s head Zemo’s smile faltered a bit, but then the wolf began to stand and look for a patch of dirt in the meadow. Zemo stood up warily himself and followed the wolf.
They stopped at the patch of forest floor that Zemo had prepped for planting next time, and the wolf pushed his snout into the ground. Zemo was confused by the action before he looked closer, seeing that the wolf was spelling something out.
“J… A… M… E… S. James? Is that your name?” The wolf looked proud as he nodded his head in affirmation.
“Well… nice to meet you James. I’m Zemo.” Zemo smiled softly at the wolf, finding himself confused by the wolf’s gentle nature and clearly more advanced mind than he was taught.
James walked closer to Zemo and tucked his head low under the boy’s hand in a silent encouragement to pet him. The gentle touch of Zemo’s slender fingers was like heaven for James. He let out a small huff of satisfaction and plopped himself down onto his side, leaving his soft belly open to the boy’s gentle hands.
Zemo giggled at the wolf’s actions and bent down onto his knees to scratch the wolf’s belly, feeling the urge to lay down alongside the wolf and rest his cheek on the soft fur of James’ side.
Zemo rolled onto his back, still keeping his head on James, and gazed up at the stars starting to fill the sky. “Y’know everyone always says werewolves are evil and mean and can’t feel, but you’ve been so sweet and fun and obviously have a brain behind those big blue eyes.” Zemo giggled as the wolf gave an exasperated huff. “I’m serious though, James. This is nice.”
Closing his eyes, Zemo let himself relax further into the earth below his body and the soft white fur beneath his head. When the young fae opened his eyes again he realised how dark it had gotten and began to push himself up to his feet.
At the lack of weight on his side, James stood himself up and gazed curiously at the boy before him.
“It’s gotten late, James. I need to get home and rest.” James ducked his head and let out an almost silent whine before walking up to Zemo and pushing his fluffy head into the fae’s hand for pets.
“I promise I’ll come see you again!” Zemo called out as he began to walk back towards his village. “I come out here every Sunday.” Zemo turned his back after one last lingering look and took off jogging home.
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The next week felt like it lasted an entire year. Zemo was so ready to go back and see his new friend, anxiously awaiting his chance to learn more about James, the mysterious white werewolf.
On Sunday morning, Zemo woke up earlier than usual. Too excited about getting to see James again. Zemo started on his way with his baskets of flowers and seeds and all the tools he might need.
As he began to near the empty clearing, Zemo realised he had no idea when he would see James today, or even if he would for that matter.
Zemo refused to let those thoughts sour his day. He set himself to work, determined to get this clearing as beautiful as he could before James hopefully showed up. He had brought some of his favourite seeds and a few clippings from his garden at home. Wanting to be able to show James some of the flowers that made him happiest.
The day seemed to drag on, minutes felt like hours and by the time the sun was setting Zemo was exhausted and had lost almost all hope that James would show up again.
As the last specks of sunlight were shining through the trees on the horizon, Zemo packed up his baskets, taking his time and hoping beyond hope that James would show up. Once the sun was gone from sight completely and the only light left was a soft glow coming from the crescent moon, Zemo decided it was best he head home, not wanting to catch a chill or be faced by the horrors of the forest after dark. Though if James was what he used to consider as these horrors then was he wrong about everything else?
Lost in his thoughts, Zemo started to leave the clearing and head towards home. Before he even made it two steps, he was blocked by the huge furry form of a werewolf. When the wolf lifted his head Zemo knew immediately that it was James. The wolf's eyes held so much emotion in an otherwise blank expression.
At the sight of James in front of him, Zemo felt relief flood his body. The wolf bowed his head to the dirt between the two of them and began writing with his snout. Zemo giggled at this silly form of communication that the wolf had seemed to adopt.
“S…O…R…R…Y… Oh it’s okay James. We didn’t make any actual plan anyway. I just didn’t know when you’d show up.” Zemo ducked his head, slightly embarrassed that he had been so doubtful of James actually showing up. He turned around and walked back toward the centre of the clearing and set down his baskets. Turning back around he saw James following after him. Looking closer at the wolf Zemo noticed a limp.
James dropped down onto the ground once he reached where Zemo was standing. Zemo looked down at the wolf and scanned his eyes over him, looking for any outward signs of injury and when he reached the shoulder of James’ front leg his eyes widened at the sight of white fur stained red.
“James!?” Zemo dropped to his knees and reached out to the bloodied shoulder, hovering just above the apparent wound. “What happened? Are you okay? James, you’re bleeding?!” The wolf just let out a tired huff and rested his head on the ground, closing his eyes.
At the weak sight of James beneath him, Zemo jumped into action. He pressed his hands against the red and felt for a wound. When his fingers met the source of all the blood staining James’ beautiful coat he reared back slightly. It was a puncture wound. Someone must have stabbed him or shot him and there was little Zemo could do. He reached for his baskets, pulling out a scrap of cloth he had left over and wrapping it tightly over the still bleeding wound.
Satisfied with the bandage for now, Zemo laid himself down alongside the wolf, looking into James’ eyes and searching for an answer to his questions. “What happened James? Who did this?”
The only response Zemo got was a sad little “awoo” and huff of breath against his cheeks. James raised his paw and wrapped it around the small of Zemo’s back to pull him closer into his soft and gentle embrace. Zemo rested his forehead against the wolf’s chest and let himself shed a few tears for his poor injured friend.
The pair laid like that for what felt like forever, just basking in the warmth of each other and the calm atmosphere surrounding them. Eventually Zemo realised how late it must have been and resigned himself to leaving the warmth of his wolf and heading back to his home. Before he left he told James to meet him back here at the same time next Sunday, just after sunset.
James watched as Zemo ran off into the darkness, disappearing into the trees and out of his view. James stayed laying as he was, pain still blooming from the wound in his shoulder.
Eventually James decided it was time he got up and headed back to his den. The walk back felt like it took ages longer than usual, the pain keeping his pace slow and his wandering mind starting to take him the wrong direction multiple times.
When he finally reached his home he dropped to the ground and fell asleep immediately, exhausted from the day's events and the long walk home.
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The next few weeks came and went in a similar fashion. Every Sunday just after sunset, James would show up at the clearing and spend as long as he could with Zemo before they had to part ways and head home for the night.
Both men adored spending time with each other. Zemo had grown overly fond of the giant white wolf and James in turn had fallen for the sweet fae boy. But of course neither had the courage to tell the other about their feelings.
When another Sunday came around, James figured he’d surprise Zemo by showing up a little bit early so they could spend more time with each other. As James silently made his way to the edge of the clearing he felt something was amiss.
It was completely silent.
It was never silent when Zemo was around. The small fae could talk for hours and never grow tired and in the absence of others he could always be heard singing or humming a simple tune.
James broke through the edge of the forest and stepped into the valley of flowers that Zemo had planted and nursed to beauty. Looking around James’ suspicions were confirmed, there was no Zemo in sight, no heartbeat save for his own and the quick beats of the birds, and the clearing was void of the sweet scent of honey and strawberries that seemed to follow the fae wherever he went.
James plopped himself down in the middle of the clearing, deciding to stay here and wait to see if maybe Zemo was going to be late.
As the sun fell lower in the sky, James began to lose hope that Zemo would be back and when the light of the moon was all that was left, James knew that his sweet little fae would not be coming to see him today.
The walk back to his den was long and lonely. James’ mind kept racing, trying to think of why the boy would miss one of their days together. Maybe he was sick, or had a family issue, or maybe he just simply forgot. Or he has someone else, one of his own kind more deserving of his attention than a dangerous werewolf.
James tried to stop his thoughts there as he tumbled into the den. He settled himself in the deepest corner and resigned himself to a fitful sleep full of dreams of the fae boy that had stolen his heart.
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The week after was horrendous in James’ opinion. He couldn’t keep himself from thinking about why Zemo hadn’t shown up and every time his mind came back to the only plausible reason… he hated James. That had to be it. Why else would he not show up and not tell James why? He must have been trying to cut everything off quickly and the thought broke James’ heart in two.
James tried not to but he still held up hope that this Sunday Zemo would return. He showed up early in the morning and decided to stay on the edge of the clearing, watching to see if the fae would show up at all.
Half way through the day, James found himself drifting off, relaxed by the sound of the birds chirping and scent of the beautiful flowers filling the area. When he awoke again it was nearing nightfall and still there had been no Zemo. James knew that even in his sleep he would have known if the boy showed up. Wolf instincts and all.
As the sun set on the second Sunday of waiting for Zemo, James felt a churning in his chest. He heaved and coughed thinking he was going to throw up. As his coughing grew louder and began to sound more like wheezed barks than anytime else, James felt something rising in his throat. A final painful retch had James coughing fit commence and petals spew from his panting mouth. He couldn’t stop himself and by the time was able to get his breathing under control and stop the coughs there was a small pile of what looked like pink and white cherry blossoms stained on the edges with red below him.
In a panic James sprinted off toward his den. He didn’t know what was happening, why he had just coughed up flowers, but he knew he needed to get back to the safety of his den at the very least.
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Zemo trekked through the brush of the forest with some of the Elders from his tribe following after him. They had heard about the work that Zemo had put into reintroducing flowers and their beauty to these forests. Zemo was more than excited to show off what he had done. Grinning ear to ear with a pep in his step as he guided the others.
Wanting to show off his best work, Zemo decided to bring the Elders to the clearing that he had worked on on his days waiting for James. The thought of James caused the fae boy’s smile to drop. A few weeks ago he had had to move to a new clearing to continue his work since he had long since finished his work on the one he and James had been meeting in, and since he moved he hadn’t seen the wolf once. He had considered coming back to this original clearing but he figured that the wolf just didn’t want to see him and that’s why he hadn’t been visiting Zemo.
As they approached the clearing, Zemo felt his excitement and happiness come rushing back to him. He smiled happily as they all stepped in and glanced around to take in the beauty of the valley.
The Elder’s looked around in awe and wonder at the hundreds of blossoms of all different flowers, some native to the area and others much more exotic. In the trees there were vines of fruits and flowers flowing around the area and creating a sky full of colour and some of the most delicious scents.
Zemo watched as the Elders took in his work and smirked at the looks on their faces, all too proud of himself.
As they all looked around, one of the Elders noticed a specific detail and decided to comment on it. “These are some interesting petals on the ground, they don’t seem to be of any of the flowers you have growing here.”
Zemo made his way over to where she was looking and stopped dead in his tracks. These petals definitely weren’t from anything he had planted. He bent down to inspect them a bit closer, picking one and rubbing it between the pads of his fingertips. The red from the edges smeared and he sniffed his hand before a gasp slipped from his lips and he pulled his hand back to stare at the red staining his skin.
“What is it?” The Elder behind him asked in concern.
“I-it smells like blood…”
The Elder gasped herself and knelt down beside Zemo, taking a better look at the petals sitting at their feet. “Lya…” She called over one of her fellow Elders, “Are these petals from where I think they’re from?”
Elder Lya took a closer look and before she shot her head up to make eye contact with the young fae boy before her, “Zemo, where are these from?” She tried to keep her voice somewhat calm and gentle but the urgency shone through brightly.
“I-I don’t know… They weren’t here when I finished a few weeks ago.” Zemo was scared. There was no sugarcoating this. There were bloody petals in the clearing that he had been working on.
“Are you certain that you have no idea where these came from?” There was a heavy sternness in the Elder’s voice as she asked him her question.
“I swear to you Elder Lya, I have no clue when these got here or where they’re from.” Zemo pleaded his innocence with the Elders when the group heard something from just beyond the edge of the clearing. It sounded like a wounded creature of some sort.
Zemo was the first to step forward and try to get to the source of the sound but he was quickly cut off by the Elders. “Stay behind us, we don’t know what’s there.”
The group advanced toward the edge of the forest together, whimpering only increasing in volume as they grew closer. Just before they broke through the brush at the edge of the forest, the leading Elder noticed specs of blood along the ground and leading the bushes in front of them.
They all paused for a moment before the bushes were pushed aside and the source of the blood and whimpering grew clear.
Laying on the forest floor with blood dripping from his maw and staining his bright white coat was a giant werewolf.
“James…” Zemo muttered under his breath. All of the Elders turned to look at him.
“Do you know this creature, boy?” Elder Lya asked with a snarl in her voice.
“I- yes. He’s my friend. He helped me with all of this, actually.” Zemo replied with confidence. Even if he hasn’t seen or spent time with his wolfy friend in weeks he would still stand up for him.
Zemo pushed forward to the front of the group and dropped to the ground beside the bloodied wolf. He lifted James’ head gently, trying to make eye contact.
James peeled his tired eyes open at the unexpected movement and found himself staring into the most familiar brown eyes. He tried to let out a happy sound at the sight of his sweet fae boy but all that made it past his lips was a broken and raspy “awoo” that broke Zemo’s heart.
“It’s okay, James. I’ll help you.” Zemo promised, feeling tears on his cheeks and a lump in his throat from trying to keep sobs at bay.
Zemo couldn’t stand seeing his friend so obviously in pain. It had hurt when the wolf had somewhat disappeared on him, but thinking back now, Zemo couldn’t help but scold himself for not coming back here to check if maybe James was still coming to the same clearing rather than just following Zemo like he had expected would happen. Having James in his arms again, even in his injured state, brought feelings back that Zemo had been trying his hardest to bury over the last few weeks, and as he rests James’ hand on his lap and looks up pleadingly at the Elders of his tribe Zemo realises that maybe he loves James more than he thought.
“Please, you’ve gotta help him. Please!” Zemo begged the Elders. He knew what his tribe thought of the werewolves in this forest but they couldn’t be more wrong. Not when it came to James.
The Elders all looked at each other. This wolf was clearly the source of the bloodied petals in the clearing and they all knew what those petals meant.
Elder Lya knelt down beside Zemo and put a hand on his shoulder, “We will try to help him but we make no promises. I’ve never seen a werewolf with this disease.” Lya turned to look at the wolf so obviously in pain. She called over one of the other Elders, a large and stronger male faery to come and carry the wolf back to the village.
Once they arrived at the Medicinal Hut, James was laid down on a large table in the middle of the room. There were many Elders and healers bustling around to make sure that the wolf was okay, confirm their diagnoses, and help get him on the path of healing. The only trouble there was that if they were right about this being hanahaki disease then there was very little chance that they could do much to help the suffering wolf.
Zemo had been pushed into a corner by the busy bodies of everyone in the hut. He stood there shaking, silent tears pouring over his cheeks and his arms wrapped tightly around himself, as if he could hold himself together against the crushing feeling of being unable to help his sick and injured friend.
Elder Lya caught sight of Zemo in the corner and went over to comfort the young fae. “Zemo, everything’s going to be okay. The medics are doing everything they can to help your friend.” Lya wrapped an arm around Zemo’s shoulders. He turned into her for a proper hug and let his sobs come out.
“P-please! You have to fix him, PLEASE! I love him.” The last bit was muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Elder Lya to hear. She pried him from her and turned him so they were face to face.
“Did you just say you love him?” She asked in a calm yet serious voice.
“I-yes. I do love him.” Zemo looked as though he was ashamed at his confession.
There was urgency in her voice as she asked, “Has anyone told you what is wrong with your friend yet?” Zemo shook his head.
Elder Lya let out a huff of breath before meeting Zemo’s eyes, “He is sick. That much is obvious but the reason for it is less so. He has what is called Hanahaki Disease. It’s very rare but extremely deadly. Have you ever heard of it?”
Zemo looked up at her with wide eyes, even more scared for his friend now. He shook his head again.
“Well, it’s a little complicated. Remember those petals we saw in the clearing? Those were from him. He coughed them up. There is a flowering plant growing inside of his lungs and it's hurting him very badly. Now… the reason that this is happening is because he is in love with someone but he truly believes that they don’t love him back.”
Zemo was confused. How could being in love with someone that doesn’t love you make you sick like this? And who was James in love with anyways?
He must have said that last bit out loud because Elder Lya spoke up and said, “My best guess is that he is in love with you, young man.” She had a slight smirk on her lips but her eyes still held concern.
Could James really love him back? Zemo’s mind was racing with all of this new information. “What do we do to help him?” He asked.
“I am going to have the medics wake him up so that you can talk to him. You need to tell him the truth. Tell him you love him and make him believe it. That’s the only way to help him without removing his ability to love.”
Zemo was shocked by her statement. He didn’t know that could happen!
He walked over to the table where James was, tears still streaming down his face, and the medics and other Elders all stepped aside.
James was awake, groggy and not entirely with it, but he was awake. Zemo walked to where his head was resting and put his hand on the fluffy fur just under James’ ear.
James leaned into the touch and opened his eyes more, his tail thumped when he saw that his sweet fae boy was standing there in front of him. He let out a little whine and turned to lick Zemo’s hand, accidentally smearing some blood from his mouth onto the boy. The sight of blood caught James by surprise and he looked back up at Zemo with a scared look in his eyes. “It’s okay, James. It’s okay. Y-you’re sick. Okay? But I’m gonna help you. I… I love you, James and I need you to hear that believe it cause it’s true and I need you to know that I love you.”
Zemo’s tears began to fall steadily again. He leaned down and rested his head on the soft fluffy fur of James’ chest, letting himself sob into the wolf below him.
James shifted until he could get his feet underneath him and hop down from the table. Standing at shoulder height to Zemo, James closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
James shifted right before Zemo’s eyes. Large paws becoming feet and hands, white fur giving way to tanned skin, and the face of a wolf becoming that of a man with long brown hair and those same piercing blue eyes.
Zemo looked at James in shock. He had figured that the wolf couldn’t shift since he never had with Zemo in the weeks they had known each other.
James looked down at Zemo (he was now standing at least 6 inches taller than Zemo) with a weary look on his face. He opened his mouth to speak and the sound was scratchy and seemed painful after so long with no use. “Y-you lo-ve me?” was all James could say. His eyes were wet and his lips pulled tight in a wide smile.
After the shock had faded and James had voiced his question, Zemo found his own voice, “I do, James. I really really do!” Zemo let himself smile wider than ever before as James stepped forward and scooped him up into his arms. He spun them around for a second of laughter and love filling the air all around them.
James set Zemo down and they just stood there, staring into each other's eyes with giant grins on their faces, until someone cleared their throat behind them. James shot his head towards the source of the sound and found a large group of faeries he’d never seen looking at him with varying expressions.
James quickly stepped behind the table and cowered back into the far corner of the room. Every single time he’d been met with multiple faeries it had never ended well for him. Zemo had been the first faery to ever be nice to him.
James scanned his eyes over the room, looking for some way to escape, when they landed back on Zemo. He was looking at James with an expression of pure worry. James hated seeing it and tried to calm himself down. If Zemo was here then maybe he was safe.
Zemo took a few cautious steps towards James, scared that the wolf turned human might shift again or run away. James saw Zemo coming towards him and decided to close the gap, wanting to feel the comfort that Zemo gave him.
James collapsed into Zemo’s arms and buried his face in his neck hoping that the other faeries would just disappear.
Zemo turned his head to look back at the group of Elders and medics. “Could I be alone with him, please?” Some of the Elders looked like they were about to argue but Elder Lya quickly cut off any objections, “Of course. We will be just outside if you need anything.” before ushering everyone out of the medicinal hut.
Zemo lifted James gently off of him and looked him in the eye, “It’s just us now. You’re safe, I promise.” James looked from Zemo’s eyes to his lips before he leaned in and gave the fae a sweet peck.
“Thank you.” James rasped out, pulling Zemo into his arms and holding him tight. His chest felt lighter than it had in weeks and he was happy.
When they finally parted, Zemo looked down then met James’ eyes once again. “You know you’re naked right, James?” James blushed a bright red at the comment but he honestly couldn’t care less. He had Zemo in his arms and they loved each other. That was all that he needed.