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When a scratching at his throat and a light cough began, he’d assumed it to be a cold- after all, a cold was only logical with his symptoms. To the average person a cold meant nothing. A few days of annoyance because of a running nose, but not much else besides looking forward to it being over. Not for Neil Watts. Sickness instilled a chilling fear in him- even a cold had him checking over his mini-will written on a coffee-stained napkin in a locked drawer of his office desk where he keeps all the things he’d rather Eva and the others not see and subsequently worry about. He’d very thankfully ruled out the disease, as that would be more sudden. But when he coughed up some slimy, yellow, delicate… something, he knew he needed to figure out whatever he had as soon as possible. He had an idea of what it could be.
He’d read about it before. Somewhere, once. Probably in the waiting room of a doctor's office. Neil it was rare, this unnatural and uncured phenomenon of flowers growing in the chest of a person who has an unrequited love for someone else. Before the victim even knows they have it, the flowers take root in the lungs and spread to the brain and digestive system to feed off the nutrients of the person, then they start to grow, leading to a cough, shortness of breath, headaches, pain in the chest, throwing up petals and blood, until it chokes you to the point where you need a ventilator, and then… Neil shut the pamphlet. But it was easy to assume what happened. ‘Hanahaki disease’... he thought nothing of it at the time.
Sitting in his office late after closing time and diagnosing himself, the only light his computer screen, Neil researched treatments. The first of two options, the most appealing one, the infected person confesses and has their love returned. The flowers and roots then shrivel up and dissolve naturally into the body, and the person gets flower-based PTSD and a brand new lover (congratulations). However, if the person confesses but doesn’t have their love returned, the flowers stay until they devour the person. The second option, the one less preferred; have the flowers surgically removed, but in the process, the part of the brain that controls emotions which the flowers have rooted themselves into is removed too.
Die, or never feel again.
Neil, presented with these options, knew trying to confess to Eva would kill both of them; him completely, her only on the inside. Knowing that she killed him because she couldn’t force herself to love him would haunt her forever. He realized he would have to come to terms with death faster than the flowers would grow.
How sad his life would end from a rare illness, and not even the one he’d been born with, not the one he’d been worrying about since he had the ability to worry. Yet still something just as painful, his unrequited love for Eva. His heart beat faster when she was near, his confidence was boosted and completely stricken at the same time, his knuckles tingled for minutes after hers brushed his by accident while walking by. Of course, he always kept this under wraps, they’ve gotta be professional and all.
I’m in love with you, Eva.
Which didn’t really matter in the end, seeing that as he sat at his desk distracted from his work, a wave of… what was it, pathetic-ness? Desperation? Hopelessness? Washed over him for thinking about saying that kind of thing to her, hanahaki aside.
Did Roxanne put you up to this?
She’d ask. Because that’s who he is, isn’t it? Mr. Class Clown, always around to tell jokes and play pranks. But seeing her smile at his asininity made it all worthwhile.
Playing the conversation in his head did nothing for productivity. He clicked away at his computer before his fingers slowed to a stop again as more scenarios flooded his mind.
But what if she loved me too?
Vague flashes of what that would be like flowed through his mind- her cheeks would turn dark, she’d probably retaliate with a punch to his shoulder, tell him to not joke about that type of stuff, brush him off… and Neil would grab her hands, more confident and shakingly nervous than he’s ever been, look her deep in the eyes, and tell her that he means it, and ask her when she’s free to… who knows, get coffee or something? They’d go on date after date, becoming closer and closer, and he’d propose- no, more realistically, she’d propose, and Lord how beautiful she’d look in a pristine, white, flowy wedding dress. Eventually they’d have kids together, and-
A violent coughing fit tore him out of his fantasies. He wasn’t keeping track of how many fits he’d had, except he was, and that was his third today.
Someone knocked on the door, and Neil did his best to squeak through his raspy voice, “Come in!”
“Christ Neil, I thought you were choking. I can hear you from across the hall.” Eva said, relief in her voice that Neil couldn’t hear past her snark and his continuing coughing fit. She walked closer and peeked at his computer screen, not long enough to actually glean anything from it. “Working this late? That’s… well, not totally unusual for you.”
“Lost track of time is all, sorry.” He said as his coughing fit came to an end.
Confused, she quirked her eyebrow. “Don’t apologize to me, apologize to your stomach that runs exclusively on caffeine and spite. You worked through your lunch break too.”
“Mm. And why are you still here?” He shot back at her to keep her distracted from him quickly closing several tabs.
“Waiting for you, stupid. You’re driving me home, remember?”
Shit, that’s right. The clock read two hours past closing.
“Oh fuck, sorry Eva. I- okay I won’t lie, I totally forgot.” He rubbed his eyes under his glasses.
“All good.” Still suspicious, she watched as Neil packed up his stuff. Usually she wouldn’t make it her business, but she couldn’t help but be curious why Neil has started staying after work late after… last time. He left his white lab coat hanging on the back of his chair, and Eva couldn’t deny that she liked the way he looked in a nice shirt and tie. “What were all those tabs you rushed to close when I entered the room?”
“Nothing you’re thinking they were. Now come on, the car's not gonna drive itself.” He walked past her and out the door, but looked back to make sure she followed.
“It might, it’s probably scared of you since it found out what you did to the company car.” She playfully jabbed him as they walked together.
“I was trying to avoid a-” defending himself to her was no use, and he knew it. He sighed and smiled. “When are you going to stop hanging that over my head?”
“Never. Hey, remember that one time in senior year-”
“That too.”
Eva laughed. So did Neil. Hearing him laugh so sincerely, such a rare thing, made her face warm up a little. Some days she thought she liked him too much for her heart to handle.
Standing in the elevator, the mood quickly changed from warm and affable to cold and tense. He rubbed his eyes some more. Looking at a bright screen in the dark for a while doesn’t do anything good for the eyes. Silence overtook both of them, and while usually that wouldn’t matter, this silence was distinctly and unnaturally uncomfortable. Eva had questions that Neil wasn’t going to answer. Eva's sharp breath in broke the tension.
“Is it-”
“It’s not.”
Silence again. The elevator light flickered.
“I really just got caught up in work. Lot of forms to fill out.”
“Okay. I was… I was just making sure.” You tend to keep these things to yourself. I don’t want you to deal with them all on your own again.
The ride home was relatively normal, some light banter about work and patients and strange memories they’d had to work through, but hey, that’s just how work is. She thanked him, said she’d see him tomorrow, and closed the door. He waited until she unlocked her house door to make sure she got inside safely before driving off. At one point on the way home, another coughing fit started, and he had to quickly pull over (pissing off all those he’d suddenly cut in front of) to control himself.
As he stopped the car and pulled back to push his glasses back up on his face, relieved that he could breathe properly again, the relief faded as quickly as it came. The quick, flashing lights of the cars passing by in the night lit up the inside of his car only long enough to catch glimpses of a thin yellow something covered in bits of blood and phlegm on his pristine white shirt. He picked it off and held it up to the thin ray of light from the streetlamp streaming into his car through the overhead window. A torn flower petal.
A chill started in his spine and quickly moved out to the rest of his body, and he found his lungs constricting. Suddenly it was all too real. The flowers had grown this much already? To the point where he’s coughing them up? At the rate the flowers were growing, he had at most a few weeks left, and at the least, a few days. And Neil knew his system wasn’t prone to waiting things out.
He found himself at his door before he had time to think- he didn’t remember driving the rest of the way, nor parking the car, nor walking up to his door- though he didn’t care much about any of that. His hands shook and keys jingled as he tried to open the damn thing, which made him take a little longer than usual to get it unlocked. He kept the flower petal clasped tightly in his fist. He thought he would look pretty suspicious to anyone nearby- blood on his sleeve, frantically trying to open the door.
He had the petal placed next to him on a crumpled paper towel he grabbed hastily in his panic- to be honest, he expects death daily, and couldn’t fathom why his new diagnosis drove him mad with nerves so suddenly. Maybe it’s because he finally has something to live for, which is exactly why he will die- like it was radioactive and contaminative. It sat innocently next to him as he fired up his computer.
‘Yellow flower’ - too many search results.
‘Wavy yellow flower’ - still too many, and none that looked like the petal lying innocently next to his mouse.
‘Yellow flowers wavy with green blood vessels’ - too few search results.
This led him down a rabbit hole of clicking on several different links having to do with lists of yellow flowers. And eventually-
Aw, cucumbers.
No really- cucumbers. Flowers that bloom before cucumbers grow. He wouldn’t actually have any cucumbers growing inside of him, as through his research he found a few cases of hanahaki disease that were the flowers that bloom before fruits grow, though the fruits never actually grew inside of the people. But how fitting! Cucumber flowers. The word Eva had used to stop herself from cursing. The word he’d come to hear in his mind only in her frustrated voice. Cucumbers.
He sat back in his chair and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and stopped while running his hand through his hair to grab a fistful. His sudden and feverous researching spree stopped in its tracks. After all, he knows what it is, and even before the panic, he knew what it was, and that there was no way out. But what does one do when faced with the end of their life? Neil knew it would come, and sooner for him than most, but now that it’s staring him in the face, with its cold, bony hand down his throat? What would anyone do?
Though it was no time and yet the only time to think of the future, he considered if he would go in to work tomorrow. He couldn’t have anyone suspicious, because then they’d start asking questions, but he wasn’t sure how capable he’d be if called out to an actual job rather than sitting inside doing paperwork.
Several days passed which all mostly felt the same, but with a slow decline in Neil that only Eva could see. He may be able to act like normal, snarky Neil in front of everyone else, but in front of her he feels comfortable, and lets his guard down more than he would like, and more than he thinks he does. He doesn’t go out for lunch with her anymore, nor eat the small treats she brings him on the days she goes out to get lunch by herself. He’s winded from walking down the hallway. When she pokes, he doesn’t poke back.
Eva knows Neil is… sensitive about this stuff, about his medical history, but not asking if it’s… you know… is eating away at her faster than the cucumber flower roots are poking holes in Neil’s lungs.
Over these several days, Neil feels worse and worse. He finds his symptoms expanding from shortness of breath and the occasional stuffy nose to lack of appetite, constant soreness, and fevers. Deep breaths to stop his sporadic panicking were no longer possible. Worst of all, he kept coughing up those fucking flowers, leaving evidence of his ailment to anyone who entered his workspace at the wrong time. They started coming up not only as petals, but as full flowers now, sometimes with bits of the stem intact. He hated those the most; the way they scraped his esophagus and stuck to the back of his throat left his mouth sore and bleeding; and then the blood traveling back down to his stomach made him throw up, or more accurately, dry heave, since he couldn’t eat a thing.
“Neil.” Eva popped into his office, which was thankfully clean of any evidence. She cleared her throat- a small itch started in the back of her throat earlier that day, and she couldn't seem to get rid of it. It felt like a head cold in her chest, and she hoped that Neil hadn’t given her whatever it was he had.
“Mm?”
“We’re on call. Come on.” Her curtness was only out of concern for him. With all that seemed to be happening in Neil’s little bubble recently she became unsure of how to act around him. Jabbing at him felt wrong, but she was also upset that he wasn’t telling her anything, but she also felt bad for him, but she also felt that all of this was none of her business as a coworker. As a friend, though, that story changed.
“We are?” He rose and stood for a moment, gripping the back of his chair, waiting for the blood to rush back to his clouded head.
“Been on the schedule for a few days.” She looked his wavering body up and down. “Let’s go. I’m driving.”
He would have asked her to anyway.
He followed her at his pace, and would have missed the elevator had Eva not held the door. The light on the inside blinked still.
“Is it-”
“It’s not.”
Their previous conversation haunted both of their minds. The background hum of the elevator was unusually obvious, as it’s usually covered by conversation between the two, but instead now it played a backing track to an air that got sicker with each floor the elevator passed. The walk to the car was just as slow, and just as silent.
Neil stared out the window at the passing cars, resting his head on his hands, unaware of all the courage the woman next to him was mustering up to say something.
“Neil-” Eva’s anxious tone stole Neil away from whatever daydream he was having, “is everything okay?”
“Of course.”
“Mm.” She processed his answer. Did he really think he was presenting himself as totally normal? That no one could detect… all this? Maybe he himself is in denial. “And if things weren’t okay, you’d tell me?”
“...Do you think I’m lying?”
Eva’s work professionalism and kindness stopped at him. “Yes.”
He wanted to joke, but knew she’d have none of it, or at least much less than she usually does. “I- it’s just a cold, on and off fevers. Nothing serious. You know how it is with all the flowers causing… allergies.”
Bullshit. “Okay. I just- well you had allergies last year too, and that was, you know, not this.” She glanced at him, he shrugged and went back to staring out the window. Silence again. The hum of the car tires on asphalt was not unlike the elevator.
“If something’s going on with you, you can tell me-”
“Nothings going on, Eva!” He snapped.
Irritability, another symptom.
Eva went silent and stayed silent that time. Neil looked over at her and opened his mouth to apologize, his breath in cut off by another coughing fit, thankfully one that wasn’t too bad and didn’t last too long. More petals came up, but he swallowed the slimy little things to keep Eva from seeing. If there’s anyone he has to hide this from, it’s her. If she knew only she could heal him but didn’t have the means to do so, it would kill her, and then she’d have to live with it.
Meanwhile, Eva wanted more than anything to know what the hell he was keeping from her, why he wouldn’t tell her, and what she could do to help. She thought over tens of scenarios of how to trick him into telling her more. Nothing’s going on? Really? Then eat this. Nothing’s going on? When’s the last time you slept? Nothing’s going on? I distinctly remember you telling me ‘nothing’ was going on when I watched suspiciously strong painkillers fall out of the car and later in the year found out you have an incurable disease that could quickly kill you at any moment.
She wasn’t far off, except this time it was an incurable disease that was slowly killing him.
Neil was too preoccupied with putting one foot in front of the other to notice what the corridor around him in their new patient’s house looked like, though as he rapidly became more and more light-headed, he tried to ground himself through describing his environment. The walls were… brown, the lights were… much too loud, there’s… paintings, on the wall, and they’re all shifting, they’re elongating, falling, tilting together at once, and Neil feels a sharp pain in the side of his head as he hits the floor. His throat is completely blocked up, and there’d be no place in his lungs for air even if it wasn’t.
“Cucumbers!” He heard distantly. His blurred vision showed him Eva, dropping her things and running towards him, her lab coat flowing out behind her. All faded to black as he thought; I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.
Eva insisted on being in the ambulance, and the medics couldn’t find it in themselves to turn away someone starting to grieve before the body had even died. She held Neil’s hand the whole way to the hospital, telling herself she should have pried more, really forced him to tell her what it is this time that’s eating him up from the inside. At the emergency entrance they told her to stay back and said that she could visit his room later, though she could tell by their tone they were really doubtful there would be a patient left to visit.
And so, she waited, from morning to night, in her white lab coat, looking like one of the doctors herself, in the dingy waiting room, with crying children and colorful casts, and sneezing, and gray carpets, and beeping vending machines, and buzzing elevators with flickering lights, and ticking clocks. Until she was allowed to see him. Until his final visitation.
“Ms. Rosalene?” A doctor popped her head out of a door, and motioned for Eva to follow.
Throughout their whole conversation, Eva felt miles away, like it was a movie and she was watching a hushed conversation from the end of the hallway. Hanahaki disease, the doctor said, and Eva nodded, as she knew of it, but never of anyone that had it. Her heart panged selfishly as she realized Neil yearned for someone so much he was dying. Jealousy heated her head only for a quick moment at whoever he hurt so much for.
Hanahaki disease. The sickness in which flowers grow out of the victim's lungs and roots spread throughout their body, and can only either be removed at the expense of losing the ability to love for the rest of the victim’s life, or tell the person the flowers are caused by that they love them, and have the person reciprocate their feelings.
The door creaked when Eva pushed it open. The room was cold and…sick. The only color in the whole place was the flowers growing out of Neil’s chest and a hole in his neck right above his collar bone, all tinted a light yellow from the bright light overhead.
We had to do emergency surgery to help him breathe even a little. It’s a medical miracle he’s still alive as is. The doctor's voice echoed in her head.
It was too quiet, too serious. It felt nothing like Eva’s best friend, it felt like all of him had been stripped away and left a thin, pale corpse and its floral parasite in his place. She pulled up a chair next to his bed and clasped his hand in hers like in the ambulance.
But I don’t believe he has much time left. I’m sorry Ms. Rosalene, there’s just nothing more we can do.
A pale, glasses-less face turned to look at her. How could he have gotten so much worse in just a few hours?
“Eva.” Barely a whisper.
“Neil.”
It took him a moment to speak again, using his labored breath to push out words whenever he exhaled. “I have… some regrets. Do you know a company, that could maybe…”
And Eva started laughing, with a tint of the sad reality that such a scenario may come to be, causing some of her tears to drip off her face and onto Neil, who had neither the energy nor the strength to wipe them off. He was making jokes again… trying to comfort her. Eva’s sign that she must really be losing him now.
Neil smiled. “...maybe replace some of my memories or something…”
With how much it hurt to speak, they both were surprised how much Neil was saying. But he couldn’t bear to see her so sad. It hurt more than the roots puncturing his organs. Although, Neil found it was strange to see her sincerely smile too, causing the opposite effect on himself.
“Neil I’m… I’m so sorry that… whoever this was didn’t… they should’ve…” Eva didn’t really know what to say, until she found Neil looking away ashamedly. “Neil. You did tell them, right? You tried telling the person you love that you love them? And they said they didn’t feel the same.”
“…”
“Cucumbers, Neil, you didn’t tell them?” Her frustration rang through her first, then came the realization that they still had time. “Wait- Neil!” She unclasped her clammy hands from his and fumbled through her lab coat for her phone. “We can call them! You can tell them and it’ll all be okay!” She didn’t care if she had to see him around with some other girl by his side. She had enough pride to suck it up and deal with it, plus, she’d rather see him walking and laughing again. But Neil shook his head.
“Wh- no? What do you mean no- why not?” Her sudden frenzy died down, but then sped up from confusion to frustration and anger once again. “Neil, you can live! We can tell them and they can tell you and you’ll be fine! What’s your deal? Why won’t you even try to stay alive?”
“It’s not that simple.” He whispered. I want to try. I want to live. For once in my life, I want to live.
Tears ran down Eva’s face mercilessly. Neil hated seeing her like this, especially knowing that it was only a taste of what was to come when he actually died. “They don’t love me back… I don’t want to… hurt them by… telling them and then… dying when they couldn’t… have saved me.”
“That’s some stupid logic, Watts. Before you… before… just try, please? I’ll deal with the consequences, okay? I promise. I’ll get them the help they need. I’ll help them to know that it wasn’t their fault. But I want to know we’ve done everything we can before giving up.”
We. Neil liked that. Together as always. Best friends.
“You promise… you’ll help them… not feel guilty… and make them… take care of themself?” He held out his pinky.
Eva’s heart raced. He was going to try. She eagerly wrapped her pinky around his and pulled tight. She grabbed her phone again and opened it, sitting on the edge of her seat, ready to dial. “Okay, so who is it?” She stared at him intently, wide sparkling eyes watching his lifeless ones.
“Eva… I love you.”
What?
“...What?”
“I’m… in love with you… Eva Rosalene.” Instead of relieved, Neil just felt worse, and the flowers pushed up against the walls of his lungs a little more. Meanwhile, Eva sat shocked, unsure of what to say, and she became the one with something in her lungs, in her throat, stopping her from speaking.
“I-” Eva just nodded, and Neil’s eyes widened in realization.
“Really?” He asked, smiling, hopeful.
“Neil, I love you too.” She bent down and hugged him as desperately and gently and avoidant of flowers as she could. Slowly, Eva’s blockade from Neil started to fall away; some flowers shriveling and dying then and there, some shrinking back into buds, then to stems, then to roots, which pulled out of the crevices of Neil’s insides and faded into nothing. Neil knew he wouldn’t regain his full strength (whatever that may be) for a while, but he did all he could in the moment to wrap his arms around Eva in return. Of course, nurses soon rushed into the room at the change in Neil’s vitals and thought the worst in seeing Eva bent over him, but soon found relief when they heard his heart monitor still beeping.
For Eva and Neil, the world stopped spinning. Neil could breathe again, and felt over ecstatic that his first breath in smelled of Eva’s shampoo. When they did finally separate, they were both all smiles and happy tears, like children who had gotten exactly what they asked for on Christmas. Eva’s blood ran cold for a brief moment when Neil started to cough again- thankfully it was just bits of dead stem that the nurses assured both of them were completely normal to come up after Hanahaki was cured. Cured.
Eva gave Neil his privacy for the time being, but assured him she would come back at visiting hours the next day. And she did; for the next week, as that’s how long basic recovery took, not to say he wouldn’t still need to take it easy at home and work for a while. Though, each time she got ready to leave work or her house to go see him and talk about all the new everything that would involve the two of them together, she thought to bring a gift. Of course, what gift do people usually bring patients in recovery? Flowers. Not wanting to traumatize him again, she opted for candy instead, which, as he slowly regained his taste, Neil appreciated. Friends at SigCorp eventually found out about all this, as Neil landing in the hospital for a week was more than just news, and couldn’t go without explanation. They all threw a small party in the break room for his arrival and newly-found well-being when he returned.
As for Neil, he was secretly very relieved to see Eva’s ‘actually-in-her-chest head cold’ had painlessly faded away. In the same way he kept a close eye on her, she kept an even closer eye on him. She often stayed in his office, leaning on his desk, next to his computer, drinks for both of them in hand. She said she just wanted to check in; but she used it as an excuse to evaluate his recovery, and he used it as an excuse to avoid work, and they both used it as an excuse to interact with the person that loves them to the point of no return.
Though they were definitely together, calling each other boyfriend or girlfriend felt silly, like they were high schoolers again- so they decided against a label for the time being, and could maybe consider it in their future; one with a notable lack of yellow flowers.
“Wait, you had a crush on me in high school?”
“I’ve had a crush on you since high school.”