Archive of Our Own ^beta

An orchid.

Tighnari barely registers the acidic burn in his throat as he stares at the delicate petal in his hand with a mixture of awe and fear. Every botanist has heard of the story, the legend, of flowers growing in your lungs. Before now, Tighnari thought Hanahaki was just that - a legend. There was no record of this phenomenon actually happening to anyone. In every article he’s read, it’s labeled as fictional. A fictional disease borne of unrequited love. It’s supposed to be just a myth. A tragic tale told in theaters and around campfires to cause unease. There is no logic behind it. No reason for it to actually exist.

And yet, no matter how much he tries to deny it or tries to convince himself of the improbability of this happening to him, the evidence wouldn’t disappear.

A part of him wants to burn the petals and blame this occurrence to another bad mushroom experiment gone wrong. The logical part of him, the scholar, knows that he can’t ignore it. If the stories are to be believed (he almost can’t fathom using stories as scientific evidence) then this will continue to happen over and over again, the pain eventually growing with the flowers until his airway is too constricted. His strength will be depleted slowly until he can't fight anymore.

Once he is able to catch his breath, Tighnari stands from where he had collapsed, knees groaning in pain from the original impact, and throws the petals in the trash. He makes his way over to his desk and sits, shoulders hunched and hands supporting his hung head.

Tighnari had studied botany for years now. He knows of nearly every flower in all of Teyvat. He knows which ones produced poison and which healed. He can tell you the individual reproductive patterns of each species and what habitat they thrive in. And, thanks to his research, he also knows the symbols and language of many flowers. Despite the horrors he knows he will experience, he can’t help the soft smile that creeps into his features at what the flower represents. At who the flower represents.

“Of course he would be an orchid.”

—

Thinking back, this ailment didn’t have a sudden start. It began slowly, a tickle in the back of his throat that flared up when he spoke. It was annoying and no matter what kind of remedies he tried, that tickle stayed. It was something so minor in his mind that it was easy to ignore.

Eventually, the tickle grew into soft coughs at random. Still nothing major. Still able to be ignored for the sake of his routine.

Then the fits started. Harsh, wet coughs would wreck his body until he was forced to sit. They lasted a minute at first and eventually got longer and longer. He often found himself struggling to catch his breath after a bad fit. He still didn’t pay much mind, feeling more annoyed than anything at the idea of getting sick. He passed it off as just a weird reaction to the changing seasons. He’s always been sensitive to changes in seasons.

The appearance of the petals was the tipping point. It was an indication that something was really wrong. A prank? But how? He didn’t recognize what type of flower the petals belonged to at first. Tighnari was too focused on this perplexing ailment he found himself afflicted with.

Research came next. Hanahaki disease. A disease born of unrequited love. And wasn’t that just the most painful thing. Not only did this disease torture the victim physically but also emotionally by squashing any hope they had at their feelings being returned by the person they loved most.

It was all extremely hard to accept. And so he didn’t.

He ignored it until now. Until every fit ended up with more petals in his trash. The bright petals were a beautiful if not a painful reminder of what they represent.

The coughs he could handle. The pain was a different story. That persistent tickle turned into a raw and scratchy feeling whenever he tried to talk. His check constantly burned from the slowly diminishing lack of air he could breathe in. His body ached from the muscle spasms caused by the coughing.

Still, Tighnari hid this disease as best he can. He ignored the way Collei looked at him with worry when he had to excuse himself from their tutoring session. He ignored the way Cyno watched him with concern when Tighnari had to slow down to catch his breath. He couldn’t talk to them about it, especially to him.

Not when this was about him.

Tighnari didn’t realize his feelings for his best friend were anything but platonic until he took a closer look at the petals only a week after they first started appearing. The moment he recognized them he knew who they were for. It all clicked for him and he realized that his feelings mirrored the disease: they gradually grew. Every secret smile, every kind gesture, and even every bad joke had caused his feelings to bloom even greater through time.

To bloom like the orchid taking over his lungs.

Tighnari groaned in his empty room. “Great, I’m even picking up his affinity for bad puns.”

He didn’t realize that his mind had been wandering for a while now and closed his textbook knowing that he wouldn’t be able to focus anymore anyway. His eyes traveled to his now full trash can, petals threatening to spill out if he were to cough up more.

The petals didn’t come every day yet, only about once a week at this point. But after two months of research, he knew that they would increase with frequency. After all, his feelings for Cyno were still there, growing, and the disease would mirror what he was feeling.

Almost as if summoned, Tighnari began to feel a familiar pressure in his throat, restricting his ability to breathe. He tries to force it out, coughing harshly over and over. He ignores the tears brought about by the pain, ignores his chest burning at the strain. He covers his mouth with his hand as he feels the petals dislodge from his throat with the force of his coughs.

He opens his eyes, not realizing they were closed in the first place, and stares at the new batch of petals in the palm of his hand. The first thing he notices is the quantity. There were nearly twice the amount as last time. Not a good sign.

The second thing he notices is the blood. Also not a good sign.

It takes a few minutes to catch his breath but once he does, he puts the petals with the rest. Some end up scattered on the floor around the basket but he thinks to himself that he’ll pick them up later.

Getting up from his desk, he makes his way over to his sink and quickly wash his face. After, he decides to turn in early to bed, the fit completely draining him of any residual energy he may have had before hand.

As he lay there, trying to rest, he can only think of how the petals are hauntingly beautiful.

—

“Oopsie Daisy.”

Tighnari pauses mid sweep when he hears his best friend behind him. He takes a long, deep inhale at what he knows in his heart had happened. “Cyno,” he speaks without turning around, “please tell me you didn’t just drop a fresh daisy on the ground to make that awful joke.”

He groans when the other doesn’t respond.

“You’re supposed to be helping me get the store ready for its first day, not making an even bigger mess.”

“You’ve swept these floors three times already. The store had been ready for hours.”

Cyno is right and Tighnari knows it but it still doesn’t ease his worries. After all, he invested a large amount of time and resources into opening his little flower shop, The Forest Floor. He is proud of himself and this accomplishment but there is still a hint of disappointment in his heart. He’d much rather be out in the field, studying flowers in their natural habitat, but he doesn’t have much energy to do that anymore.

It has only been 3 weeks since the petals he coughed up were speckled with blood. That was now more common than them coming up clean. The fits increased in frequency and he found it hard to continue his research for long periods of time. Instead, he decided to open a flower shop while he still could. It was a way for him to still study the flowers he could easily have access to while also occupying his free time with less physically demanding work.

There was a small voice in the back of his head that asked what the point of this change was. After all, he had a deadline and it was quickly approaching. Tighnari did his best to squash the voice, still not willing to think about the inevitable ending of his disease.

About two weeks prior, he had told Cyno of this plan. While supportive, he still questioned the fox hybrid.

“What about your thesis?”

“I’ve hit a dead end. Need a little break to come up with a new direction I should take with my research.” The lie felt heavy on his tongue. It would be so easy, Tighnari thinks. He’s never lied to Cyno and it caused an ache in his heart that he was doing it now. “Would you help me set it up when the time comes?”

There was a soft smile on Cyno’s face when he responded. “Anything for you.”

The answer was so genuine that it nearly broke the walls Tighnari tried to put up and the truth bubbled to the surface. Once again, though, he held his tongue. He couldn’t face the rejection. It would kill him. Literally. And he was selfish, he wanted more time with the other. He’d take as much time as he was given.

“I think it’s time to call it a night,” Tighnari jumps as a hand lands on his shoulder, squeezing gently. The touch pulls him out of his musings of the past and back to where he is, standing in his new shop, clutching the broom handle a little too tightly. “You have an early morning and you look dead on your feet right now.” Tighnari turnes slightly to look up at his friend.

The soft sincerity and genuine care in Cyno’s eyes makes Tighnari breathless, a common feeling due to the disease and yet also felt different when it was Cyno directly affecting him. He stares into the others eyes, a sunset looking back at him. He swallows the lump in his throat and tries to calm his racing heart. “You’re right.” He reluctantly walks away to put the broom back in the closet. “Thanks for your help by the way.”

“No need to thank me. Do you want company on your way home?”

As Tighnari is about to respond with an affirmative, he feels the familiar tightness in his chest and throat. “Ah,” he tries to clear his throat, forcing the coughs down, “I still have a few things to check over here so you go on ahead.” He hopes that he doesn’t sound as breathless as he feels.

“You sure? I don’t want to leaf you hanging.”

Tighnari was so focused on hiding the symptoms that he barely acknowledges the joke. Turning around, he tries to give Cyno a reassuring smile and nods his head. “Yeah I’m sure. Get home safe.”

He doesn’t move, barely breathes, as Cyno stares at him with a calculating gaze, afraid that the other was suspicious. He doesn’t want Cyno to find out like this, he doesn’t want the other to find out at all, so he forces everything down as far as he can until Cyno gives a small nod of affirmation. “Alright then. I’ll seed you tomorrow.” Tighnari doesn’t show any signs of acknowledgement as Cyno walks towards the door. “You get it? Like I’ll se-“

“Yes I get it,” the hybrid interrupts. His chest twinges in discomfort as he silently pleads for the other to leave.

Cyno nods in goodbye but not before making eye contact once more. Tighnari could feel the sweat forming on the back of his neck from the strain of holding back the fit he knew was coming. He isn’t sure what Cyno is looking for, exactly, but he hopes that his expression and body language are normal enough to alleviate the others' worries. Thankfully, Cyno seems to come to some sort of conclusion and finally decides to leave.

As soon as the shop door closes, he breaks. Quickly grabbing the nearest trash can, he began coughing up the mass in his throat. It is harder than normal to get it out, whatever is coming is bigger than before. Nearly 10 minutes went by before he is able to clear it, face stained in tears and throat raw as he gags out the offending flower. He stares in horror as he tried to pull air back into his lungs. This time it isn’t just bundles of petals. Staring back at him is a whole orchid flower, including parts of the stem with some small buds growing too.

“M-master?”

Tighnari’s head whips around quickly to the noise, body protesting at the sudden movement. He stares wide eyed at Collei as his chest is still heaving. “W-what are you d-doing here?” Every word he tries to get out causes more pain in his throat, though his panic was shadowing it. He can feel himself shaking from a mixture of anxiety and pain, internally berating himself for being so careless, for not locking the door, for not realizing she had walked in.

Collei takes a couple of hesitant steps forward. “I-I came to see if you needed help preparing for tomorrow.” Her voice was quiet, scared, and Tighnari starts to feel guilty once again. “What’s going on?”

He should tell her, he knows he should, but he can’t face the shame that he knows will come with finally admitting he was effectively dying. “Nothing, just ate some bad food earlier is all.” He tries to push himself up on shaky legs. “You can go home, I’ve g-“

“You’re lying.” Collei’s statement is spoken with no hint of fear or uncertainty, just plain fact. He looks up and meets her eyes once more, nearly overwhelmed by her determination. “You’ve been sick for weeks. You try to hide but we all know.” Her eyes are wet with unshed tears and he feels his guilt build up even more. “We want to help. Why won’t you let us help?”

Her question was full of emotion and it finally broke him. He looks at the young girl he helped teach, basically helped raise, and knows she deserves the truth. He gestures towards the nearby office and they slowly make their way inside. He moves to grab a bottle of water from the fridge while she takes a seat on the couch. He takes some careful sips of water as he makes his way over to his desk chair, nearly collapsing in it as even that bit of physical movement exhausts him again.

No words are spoken right away, Collei patiently waiting for Tighnari to start but he doesn’t know what would be the best starting point. When no progress is made, Collei decided ts speak up. “It’s Hanahaki, isn’t it?”

Tighnari stare at her in confusion. She frowns and looks away, fidgeting in nervousness. “I accidentally saw that you were looking up the legends about Hanahaki and got curious too.” Her voice is soft and unsure.

“Yes,” he answers simply, voice scratchy. There is no longer a point in lying or tiptoeing around the facts.

“Is it all true?”

He knows what she is really asking: are the symptoms real, is the cause real, is the timeline accurate. “Ye-“ another round of coughs interrupt him, though thankfully no petals or flower follow. He reaches for the water he had set down and takes a few more careful sips as the small fit passes. Colleis hands twitch in her lap as she looks at him in concern, wanting to help but not knowing what to do.

When his coughs die down, the room becomes quiet once again. Neither look at each other. The only noise that can be heard is Tighnari’s quick and shallow breaths. It feels like hours pass where they sit there until Collei breaks the silence once again.

“You have to tell him.”

Tighnari doesn’t have to ask who she means. He doesn’t even need to ask how she knows. He has known of Collei’s observational abilities, probably an ability that kept her alive while in the Doctor’s care. He doesn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed about how obvious he must have been with his increasingly intense feelings about the general.

“I can’t.”

“You’ll die if you don’t!”

“I’ll die if I do.”

“No you won’t!” It isn’t often that Collei raises her voice to this degree. Tighnari would be impressed if he wasn’t so exhausted.

“Collei,” he doesn’t bother hiding the exasperation in his voice, “this disease is reliant on unrequited love. I got the message loud and clear. I accepted this a while ago.” And that was true, but it didn’t stop it from hurting still. He no longer hoped for a release from his disease, the pain forcing him into a quiet submission of acceptance throughout the past few months.

“It’s not unrequited, I promise!” The girl's eyes shine with hope and conviction. “He looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world! And he goes out of his way to help you! He literally finds any excuse in the world to see you! You’re so oblivious…how haven’t you noticed!” At some point in her little speech, Collei got back up on her feet. Her hands move quickly as she tries to convince her mentor.

“He doesn’t share my feelings. He can’t. The disease says th-“

“What if it’s wrong?” Tighnari’s mouth snaps shut at her interruption. “How can a disease know something about another person's feelings when you don’t have concrete proof? The disease knows how you view his feelings but how can it know his?”

Tighnari knows that he can’t allow that hope back. It would destroy him if it gets ripped away again. He forces himself to deny everything she says despite every piece of him wanting to accept that hope back. “It’s a magical disease and magic doesn’t always follow logic.”

“When have you ever accepted something without logic to back it up?”

“Because there’s no other answer.”

“It could just be feeding on your fears!”

“Stop, Collei!” Tighnari snaps, causing the other to freeze in place. Immediately, he feels guilty. Exhaling, he sinks further in his chair and takes deep breaths to calm himself, closing his eyes. “I can’t risk it.”

“Why? If you don’t try, you’ll die no matter what. You still have a chance!”

Tighnari is exhausted from it all. Physically exhausted from the disease, emotionally exhausted from this conversation, and mentally exhausted from the battle in his head. “I just can’t.” Collei hangs her head at the defeated resolution of his tone. “Please sto,” he pleads with her. He knows that he is no longer masking his emotions or pain when he looks at her

Understanding that her words are getting to him, she turns and makes her way to the exit.

Collei stops in the doorway and speaks once more, softly. “Please, master. Just think about it. I don’t want to lose you too.”

Tighnari’s eyes remain locked on the floor as he hears the door open and shut once again, his heart clenching when he hears a quiet sniffle before he is alone once more.

He barely registers his own silent tears as he stands from his desk and slowly moves towards the couch, collapsing in exhaustion and succumbing to another dreamless slumber.

—

The days pass slowly, painfully, but Tighnari forces himself to stay as busy as he can physically handle. There have been a few more coughing fits that have resulted in full flowers coming up. A part of him wants to keep them, display them. They’re undoubtedly beautiful. But he recognizes that idea as morbid. Plus, he doens’t want to torture Collei any more than he has been. Unintentionally of course. He can’t imagine how hard it is watching someone you’ve grown to know and to see as family die slowly, unable to do anything to help.

Thankfully, they don’t bring up the night in the office again and Collei doesn’t try to convince him that he has hope of surviving. He can still tell that she wants to but is keeping her distance out of respect for him. And Tighnari is grateful.

His once youthful energy and passion for exploration continues to dwindle. More times than not, Tighnari finds himself sitting on the chair behind the counter while Collei tends to the flowers herself. He can still manage some physical responsibilities, like trimming dead leaves or replacing some water, but now it seems like he’s just the overseer, guiding Collei to do his work for him.

It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth to leave her with such responsibilities when he knows that she’d rather be out in the forest working as a ranger and studying to do more.

That same chair is where he finds himself now, head hanging between his legs as he coughs up a handful of bloody petals again. At least this fit wasn’t one of his worse ones. Despite Collei knowing of his condition, he doubts that she’s fond to watching the symptoms take him over.

Slowly, he sits back up and takes the bottle of water Collei hands out to him. He pointedly ignores the look of concern she is giving him, opting instead to take a sip of the cold water in hopes of relieving the burning in his throat. “Thanks, Collei,” he says in a pained voice. She fidgets where she stands, mouth opening and closing as if she has something to say but Tighnari isn’t up for hearing it. “Why don’t we close up early? You’ve been working hard and deserve some rest too.”

Collei nods lightly and quietly walks to the back room to grab her things. She returns a moment later, still not saying a word and makes her way to the shop exit. With her hand on the handle, she pauses. “Have…” she speaks so quietly that Tighnari has to strain to hear despite his usually impeccable hearing. It doesn’t help that his pulse is still racing and each heartbeat echoes in his head. Still, he tries to focus on the young girl’s question. “Have you thought about it anymore? Coming clean to Cyno I mean.” She doesn’t turn around but Tighnari can imagine her tear-filled eyes.

He doesn’t respond right away. His breathing slows down and the pain in his chest starts to subside. He knows that his answer won’t ease her fears or his own guilt so instead he sighs lightly. “I’m sorry Collei.” That was the only thing he could say. He watches her shoulders shake in a silent cry but she doesn’t say anything more, instead simply leaving the shop and leaving him in silence again.

Tighnari watched the door for a moment longer. He doesn't know what he’s waiting for but his gaze still lingers there for just a few more seconds. Deciding he should officially lock up, he attempts to stand. However, his legs are shaky from the recent fit and finds himself nearly collapsing on the counter, once again out of breath. He grits his teeth at how pathetic he feels, too weak to stand on his own, but pushes the self-deprivation down far enough to at least finish what he’s started.

There is a strong pressure in his chest as he shuffles around the counter, making sure to keep one solid hand on the sturdy countertop. In all honesty Tighnari is worried that he may not have enough energy to pick himself up if he falls over. So, he takes his time, taking one step at a time until he is just a few feet from the door. Now he is faced with a new predicament: figuring out a way to get to the door without the sturdy counter to hold on to.

The hybrid attempts to take a deep breath but he finds that nearly impossible. The pressure has increased as he traveled to his new position. Instead of dwelling on the nervousness he is feeling, he opts to move slowly away from the counter and towards the door.

He manages two steps before he realizes that something is very wrong.

There is no time to do anything before Tighnari is falling quickly towards the unforgiving tile flooring. He lands hard on his hands and knees, both aching in pain. That pain goes unnoticed, however, when the coughing starts.

Tighnari’s body begins to convulse under the strain of the coughs. Harsh and wet, he finds no reprieve in his efforts to expel what is clogging his airways. It feels bigger than any flower he’s coughed up before and the pressure in his chest is tighter than ever. It feels as though his lungs are being squeezed from the inside of his ribs.

No matter how hard he tries to breathe or cough, nothing helps. His arms and legs start to tingle from the lack of oxygen and black spots start to obscure his vision. At some point he ends up completely on the ground, rolling around on his side as he tries to do whatever he can to make this stop.

There is a buzzing in his head as his vision goes almost completely black. He is no longer coughing and his breaths turn into something that can barely even be considered a wheeze. His limbs give out and his chest is no longer heaving.

Everything goes cold before everything goes black.

The last thought that pushes itself into the forefront of Tighnari’s mind is an apology to whomever will be the one to find him in the morning.

—

Confusion is the first thing that Tighnari feels when he starts to become aware of existing again. Confused partially because he has a feeling that he isn’t supposed to be alive right now and partially because for the first time in many months, he doesn’t feel any pain.

That revelation is enough to get Tighnari to start to panic. His eyes snap open and he attempts to sit up as quickly as he could but is stopped by a soreness in his chest that is familiar. The ache is almost welcoming but only serves to confuse him even more.

Groaning, he sits back against the pillows on the…bed? His hands feel the sheets below him, though they don’t feel familiar. He starts to look around, noticing the white ceiling and walls that surround him. His ears pick up on the rapid beeping of the monitors he sees next to him. There are some IV’s poking out of his arms and sensors on his chest.

The fox hybrid is still trying to get his bearings when the door to his left opens quickly and in comes a complete stranger. Tighnari feels his body tense up, ears straightening in defense. The stranger, a tall man with short dark hair and a large pair of glasses, is wearing a white coat and reading something on the clipboard he is carrying around. Tighnari remains tensed and makes nearly no noise. Even his breathing, which he notices isn’t labored or painful anymore, is near silent, despite how much he wants to cry out in relief.

But waking up in a strange place with a strange person, hopefully doctor, walking in unannounced and being pain free is more than enough to cause the forest watcher to be more cautious than normal.

Tighnari doesn’t speak, silently watching the man without blinking as he gets closer, humming some sort of song under his breath that Tighnari can’t place the name of. His ears twitch as the man’s shoes squeak ever so slightly. It wasn’t until the man was at the foot of his bed that he even looked up at the hybrid. Seeing Tighnari sitting there fully awake and aware startled the man. He jumped and let out a choked noise while stepping back from the bed a few feet. Still, Tighnari didn’t move. His heart was racing in his chest as the man settled down and cleared his throat.

“My apologies,” he spoke with a slight tremble in his voice from being startled. “You’ve been out for a while and I didn’t expect you to be up already.”

Tighnari blinked at the man who started to walk up to the side of his bed. “H-“ he tried to speak but his throat was extremely dry and scratchy. The man noticed this and gestured to someone on the other side of the door. “Bring in a water please,” he called out, much more calmly after having fully recovered from the earlier scare. He turned his attention back to the scholar sitting on the bed. “My apologies once again. Let’s get you something to drink and I’ll explain what’s happened.”

Tighnari nodded and his ears twitched towards the sounds of new footsteps, much lighter than the doctor’s, coming closer to the room he was in. Someone who he assumed to be a nurse with long brown hair and a nervous expression, quickly handed the doctor a bottle of water, already opened with a straw sticking out, before leaving them once again. The doctor held the straw up to Tighnari, who leaned forward and began to drink slowly, despite being desperate for the drink. He knows he needs to be careful with how much he drinks and how quickly he does so.

After slowly sipping about a fourth of the water provided, he leaned back and nodded to the doctor, who placed the bottle on the table next to them. Clearing his throat, Tighnari tried to speak again. “Thank you,” his voice was still rough and his throat had a phantom ache but it was better than before.

The doctor flashed a brief smile. “No need to thank me. I’m Doctor Singh and you’re at my clinic near the Akademiya. Would you mind if I checked your vitals?”

Tighnari nodded and watched the doctor as he performed a basic check on him. The doctor checked his pulse, oxygen levels, and heart rate. He asked some basic questions about how he was feeling, all of which Tighnari answered truthfully.

“And hows your pain? You can rate in on one to ten scale if you wish.”

That question causes Tighnari to pause. For the first time since he woke, he allowed himself to catalog what he was feeling.. It was both a shock and a delight when he felt minimal pain, especially compared to what he had been feeling for months. “The pain is a 3,” he answered honestly for the first time in a long time.

Doctor Singh finished writing on his clipboard and placed it on the bed next to Tighnari face down. “I only have one more question. What do you remember before waking up.”

Brows furrowing, Tighnari tried to think back to the last thing he remembered. It wasn’t hard but it still causes him to pause before responding. “I remember…” he began. He wasn’t sure how much to share or if the doctor would even believe him. Was he aware of Hanahaki or not? Would he sound like a crazed man if he mentioned the flowers? What would happen to him? “I had a cough,” he decides to omit most of the truth lest he sound like. Someone who is deranged. “It got really bad and I just couldn’t catch my breath. That’s all I remember.”

The lies feel bitter but necessary. The doctor nods and grabs his clipboard but doesn’t write anything down. “From what the young gentleman who brought you in told us, he found you collapsed on the floor of your shop not breathing. He said he gave you CPR and carried you all the way here.”

Tighnari froze again. Gentleman? “Who?”

Before the doctor could respond, the door opened again and Tighnari’s breath hitched in his throat. Cyno stood on the other side in his old Akademiya robes. His expression was sullen until he locked eyes with Tignari. His eyes light up and his body straightens as he starts taking large, fast steps into the room. “Nari, you’re awake.” The words are thick with relief and the general is soon directly at his side.

“Call one of the nurses if you need anything. I’ll be back in a few hours to check up on you again.” The doctor let himself out of the room but neither man noticed or heard him. Both just continue to stare into one another’s eyes. From this distance Tighnari notices the redness around Cyno’s eyes as if he’d been rubbing them.

The silence continues to stretch, neither man knowing how to break it. Or, in Tighnari’s case, he is lost in the general’s soft yet hypnotizing gaze.

His chest is heavy with adoration for his friend. But, for the first time in a long time, it isn’t painful. In fact, it feels almost pleasant.

It feels almost like hope.

Tighnari swears that he can hear a voice in his head that sounds strangely like Collei saying I told you so!

His fingers twitch against the bedsheets, wanting to reach out. Instead, he clears his throat, wincing a bit at the sharp pain that still lingers, and finally averts his eyes. He looks down at his cloth-covered lap. “I-I guess,” his voice is still scratchy and it hurts to speak but he clears his throat once more and tries again. “I guess I should thank you. Doctor Singh says you’re the one that brought me here.”

No answer comes from the man beside him, even his breathing is completely silent. Tighnari dares a glance up and notices the furrowed brows and small frown on the other’s face. He has seen this look a few times, but never directed at him. Cyno usually reserves this look when he gets news of his underlings doing something especially stupid or reckless.

His internal Collei voice tells him that he definitely deserves that look right now.

“What the hell were you thinking.”

Tighnari flinches at the stern tone from the General Mahamatra. That was definitely his work voice, something else that was never directed towards him before. It wasn’t phrased as a question but as a blunt accusation laced with disappointment and a touch of concern. He looks back at his lap, shoulders tense.

“Cyno, I-“

“No Tighnari,” Cyno interrupts, voice wavering as he says the other’s name. “Look at me.”

Tighnari listens without hesitation, eyes wide in poorly concealed worry as he locks eyes with Cyno once again. Cyno’s amber eyes soften slightly but the frown remains.

“You died.”

Cyno’s voice lacks the harsh tone from before and cracks when he speaks and it’s like Tighnari’s breath is stolen from him all over again. The anguish in the other’s voice as he speaks two short words cuts him deep, the full extent of what happened to him, what’s been happening to him, hits.

Something wet drips onto the back of Tighnari’s hand. It takes him a few breathless seconds to realize that they’re tears. And only a second longer to realize that they’re coming from him.

Tighnari inhales shakily as he tries to force his heart rate to slow and his breathing to steady but instead it seems to have the opposite effect. His chest heaves despite the remaining pain and the tears start to flow more freely. His eyes shut tightly as he continues to sob harshly. There is a stinging sensation in his palms but he hardly notices.

Everything becomes fuzzy as Tighnari continues to cry. His body and mind ignore everything around him for what feels like hours as the dread and fear consume him entirely.

Eventually things start coming back, slowly. The pain in his chest and throat is the first thing he notices again but that’s easy to ignore. The second is the headache that had formed at some point during the fit. The third is the warm body pressed against his side and the steady sound of a heartbeat bringing the rest of his mind back.

Tighnari’s breathing is still unsteady but he begins to focus on the heartbeat, trying to time his own breathing to the rise and fall of the chest he was laying on. He can feel some of the tension leave his shoulders with each stroke the hand in his hair made.

Eventually, exhaustion hits and Tighnari falls back into yet another dreamless slumber.

But this time, he feels safe.

—

This time, when Tighnari wakes up, it isn’t because he’s in pain, which he finds quite refreshing. In fact, he feels more well rested than he has in months. On top of that, he’s more comfortable than he ever remembers being. These realizations lead him to try to sink into the comfortable warmth even more.

The nearly inaudible laugh directly next to his oversized ears cause his eyes to shoot open, the bright white lights of his hospital room assaulting him as the memories from before his impromptu nap come rushing back. He tenses and places a hand on the chest under him, pushing himself up to get a glimpse of who he was sleeping on.

His heart skips a beat when he sees the familiar amber eyes stare down at him paired with a fond expression on Cyno’s face.

“How are you feeling?” Cyno speaks softly and at a low volume to accommodate Tighari’s sensitive hearing.

A blush crept up on Tighnari’s cheeks at their compromising position. He moves to sit up entirely but there is a hand between his shoulder blades keeping him in place and causing his blush to deepen.

“I’ve, ah, been worse.”

“That’s an understatement.”

Tighnari can’t help pouting at the reminder. His heart sinks at the thought of talking about his disease.

“...did the doctor tell you?” Tighnari decides to settle back into Cyno’s chest just so he wouldn’t have to see the kinds of expressions he’d make as they go through this conversation.

“He told me that something happened to your lungs.” The arm around Tighnari’s shoulders tighten. “He said there was scarring and thought it might have been pneumonia but also said that the diagnosis didn’t completely match the type of scarring he saw but didn’t have a better explanation so…” Cyno trails off as if waiting for Tighnari to either confirm or deny the doctor’s claims.

Tighnari stays silent, though.

“Collei came to visit a few times.” Tighnari tenses which doesn’t go unnoticed by Cyno. “ She said you’ve been sick for a while.” The fox hybrid’s heart rate increased, nervous about what else she may have told him. “It's weird though,” Cyno continues. “Despite how sick she says you were, the scars are the only physical evidence that the doctors have been able to find.”

Tighnari furrows his brows in confusion. What about the flowers? he wants to ask. What about the Hanahaki? Where did it go? The lack of pain has been bothering him too but now that Cyno says that there was nothing physically wrong, he can’t help but wonder if he’d been imagining it all.

“If I hadn’t found you passed out with bloody flowers all around you then I would probably believe the pneumonia thing.”

Tighnari tenses, mind racing to come up with an excuse for what Cyno saw that wasn’t the truth. But before he can come up with a good enough lie, Cyno continues.

“Be honest with me. Please.”

Taking a deep breath, Tighnari decides to do just that.

“Have you ever heard of Hanahaki disease before?” Tighnari’s voice is quiet but with their current closeness Cyno has no trouble hearing every word. He shakes his head and mutters an equally quiet no. “Neither had I before I realized I had it.”

“What does it do?”

Tighnari starts to describe the progression of the disease and everything he went through. He described the annoyance at first and how it turned into uncomfortable pressure and finally to pain. How it started with a tickle in his throat and ended with him throwing up flowers. He explained how this magical disease grew flora inside of his chest and how it grew over the course of months until it was too big for the space it was occupying. He explained how it gripped his lungs and choked him from the inside out.

All the while as he’s explaining the disease, Cyno sits and listens attentively. He takes stuttering breaths when Tighnari opens up about the pain and exhaustion that he felt. He internally berates himself at not doing something earlier. He knew something was wrong when Tighnari gave up his studies but wanted the other to come to him on his own accord.

Cyno doesn’t interrupt at all but finds himself holding Tighnari just a bit closer. There’s a lingering worry that the disease is still around and that doesn’t sit right with him.

Once Tighnari finishes with the symptoms, he expresses these concerns.

“Does it have a cure?”

Tighnari freezes at the question. “Kind of…” he stops, clearly still holding back from the full truth. “There is a surgery but the consequences are worse than the pain in my opinion. And without it, the disease is fatal.”

Cyno stays silent for a few moments more, absorbing the information. His heart clenched painfully at the last bit he was given, trying to understand what would be worse than loosing Tighnari.

Cyno decides to press further, refusing to take a passive role anymore after almost losing the one person he knows he can’t live without.

“What aren’t you telling me, Nari?”

More silence. Tighnari lightly runs his finger tips up and down the other’s chest, staring at his own hand as he tries to find the right words.

“Hanahaki…” taking a deep breath, Tighnari tells himself that it’s now or never. “Hanahaki is a disease born of unrequited love.” Cyno’s heart skips a beat. “The surgery would remove the flower but also take away my feelings for the person I’m in love with.”

Cyno is left speechless once again. There is a twinge of jealousy for the person who received Tighnari’s feelings and an even bigger feeling of anger at the same person for rejecting the forest watcher.

“Whoever doesn’t love you back is a moron,” he decides to say, voice bitter.

Tighnari can’t help but huff out a laugh. “You shouldn’t be making self-deprecating remarks, General.”

Both men freeze at the impromptu confession.

“I didn-“

“It’s not unrequited.”

Tighnari’s apology stops on his tongue as his mind processes Cyno’s words.

“What?”

“I said,” Cyno shifts and looks straight into Tighnari’s eyes, “it’s not unrequited.”

Tighnari simply blinks up at the other. “Don’t lie to me.”

A soft smile appears on Cyno’s face. “Why would I lie about this?”

“I don’t know?”

“Is that a question?”

“I don’t know!”

Cyno chuckles and leans down, touching his forehead to Tighnari’s. “Nari,” he says breathlessly.

There’s a pleasant fluttering in Tighnari’s chest. “Cyno,” he replies just as breathlessly.

As Cyno opens his mouth to say something, the hospital door slams open and both men jump. They stare at the intruder, still cuddled close on the bed together but not caring enough to move when they realize it’s just Collei. She pauses and stares back at them before she smiles widely. “Thank the Archons!” she shouts before shutting the door just as loudly as she opened it.

They continue to stare in shock as Collei’s footsteps get further apart. Slowly, they turn to look at one another again and laugh.

—

The rest of the afternoon is full with check-ins by the doctor and gentle touches shared between the two. Neither mention the Hanahaki to the doctor, Tighnari explaining to the other how mystical and rare the disease is and how they’d likely not be believed by most medical professionals.

With nothing physically wrong with Tighnari anymore, he is released relatively quickly after a few more small tests. They make their way back to Tighnari’s flower shop which had thankfully been cleaned up by Collei while he was in the hospital. There was no evidence of his disease anywhere, which was a blessing to both Cyno and Tighnari.

Neither wanted the reminder of that particular incident.

They retire to bed early, cuddling close together side by side, Cyno draped over Tighnari’s back.

As they drift off, Cyno decides to ask a question that’s been on his mind since the confession.

“Hey, Nari?”

Tighnari lets out a sleepy hum in acknowledgement.

“What kind of flowers were they?”

Tighnari takes a moment and shuffles until he’s facing his now lover. “Orchids,” he says plainly. “They represent beauty, elegance, and love.”