Work Text:
Yamada Jiro is dead.
Yamada Jiro, at the young age of 23, had passed away.
His cause of death, sudden cardiac arrest caused by the rare disease known to the public as Hanahaki.
What is Hanahaki, one may ask.
Hanahaki is the disease for those who love. It’s a rare disease, for those who harbor one-sided attractions for people. Cases of Hanahaki are rare, yet easily curable, as long as the certain parameters are checked and fulfilled.
One. The patient recognizes their love for a certain individual.
Two. The patient endeavors to let their feelings for that individual come to light.
Three. The patient identifies that their feelings for that individual can be extinguished if necessary to cure the patient of Hanahaki.
Because Hanahaki can be cured medically or through reciprocated feelings, it hasn’t had a particularly high mortality rate. Many of the patients were cured when they spoke to their significant other of their feelings. The others who chose not to burden those whom they loved walked on new paths of life. Medically treated Hanahaki removed their feelings for their significant other, but they had managed to survive thanks to the surgery.
Yamada Jiro though… was not so lucky.
Scattered around his white bedsheets were dark red roses soaked in blood and saliva. His pale complexion was tinged with the red of his blood as he had choked on his red rose petals. The deadly thorns of the roses wrapped around his heart, making it bleed. His lungs were filled with the sinful flower in red, constricting his breathing to the point that even just performing that action was too much for him.
He was… a lively man. Even so…
He had passed away because of Hanahaki. And the reasoning was because…
He didn’t know what he was in love with.
Ever since he was a child, he was diagnosed with Hanahaki. At the young age of 7, he was coughing blood and the tiniest of red petals. The diagnosis was clearly Hanahaki. But it was a rare case, because Jiro’s root of affection was not identifiable.
He was at an age where he loved everything and everyone.
He loved his mother and father.
He loved his older and younger brother.
He loved playing soccer.
He loved his teacher and his classmates.
He loved the outside, and the nice weather.
He loved absolutely everything that came in his life, and because he had loved each and every thing to such an extent, he had no identifiable cause of his illness.
The doctor had surmised that Jiro would eventually die because he just loved life too much. And because “life” could not reciprocate his feelings for it, there was no way Jiro could have received the parameter of “reciprocated feelings.”
His parents had considered giving the doctors an opportunity to remove the roots from his lungs. However, because of his age, it might have caused irreparable damage to his body. In addition, because Jiro’s love was for life itself, removing the roots would have made Jiro “dislike” life to the point that he might not do anything fulfilling. For a child to not enjoy life to that sort of degree… it just seemed wrong. So they had monitored Jiro’s illness as he got older.
As he aged, his flowers had bloomed a little more. He had disliked school, which helped prolong his life in a way. But he loved his brother’s cooking, and he loved his younger brother’s stubborn side. He loved his mother’s hands on his head, and he loved his father’s “secret” humming when he thought he was alone.
He loved soccer, and teaching people the sport of his absolute passion. He loved seeing sakura line the streets and feeling the brisk spring air run past his skin. He loved eating, and trying out new foods. He loved making his friends laugh. He loved making new friends.
It was apparent that Yamada Jiro just enjoyed all the things that came into his life… and there was no way that could be taken away from him.
When he was 16, the doctors had professionally advised Jiro to receive medical attention. Because he had loved everything to such an extent, his illness had become more and more severe. Jiro could no longer attend his phys ed classes because the roots and flowers made it hard for him to breathe. He couldn’t even run alongside his soccer ball to play with his friends, because the lack of the air would cause constant coughing fits. Many of his friends never knew that Jiro was dying from Hanahaki, and he never disclosed that to his friends. They just knew that if Jiro overexerted himself, he could possibly become hospitalized. But Jiro never wanted those pitiful looks to come his way. He never wanted them to feel bad because he was unable to do things he loved doing.
His love for each and every thing in his life progressed his illness. And yet, it was because he had loved each and every thing that he refused medical attention. His entire family was prepared for his rejection, but that would mean that he would die young. He could die within the next five years, based on the size of his flower roots.
Instead of being angry about it though, Jiro just smiled.
“It’s because I love everything in this world… and I wouldn’t change any of that. Ever.”
When Jiro graduated high school, he stopped his educational route and began living his life traveling the country. His entire family supported his solo excursion, as long as he contacted them every single day and took his medication. The medication would only relieve Jiro of the strangulating effects of the roots on his lungs and heart, but it wouldn’t alleviate unless he had the surgery to remove the roots. In short, it was only there to prolong his life to the longest it could be prolonged.
Jiro was fine not taking the medication. He was fine if the life he had loved just took him away right here and now. But he took it for his parents and his brothers, who might be struggling with how they’ll live on without him. He gave them every possible second he had in his life, because he loved them. That recognition tightens the roots inside his chest a little more. The rose petals fill his mouth. But denying that statement would have been even more detrimental in Jiro’s opinion.
So Jiro just stepped forward, Polaroid camera in hand, as he enjoyed all the things that came into his view.
It was his final journey through “life,” the thing that was destroying him, but he cherished too much to let go.
A lifetime of memories, crammed into a few measly Polaroid photos. There was no way that it would do any justice to what Jiro felt like he was blessed with… but if his family could see the things he saw… it wouldn’t be a bad thought.
That was the one thought that kept that smile on his face. Up to the very end of his life.
Yamada Ichiro and Yamada Saburo begin to detest red roses. It was the one flower that destroyed their brother. It’s the flower he had died choking on. It’s the flower that he had taken care of, exchanging his own life for it to bloom.
It was a proclamation of how much Jiro loved life. And unfortunately, life didn’t treat him the same as he treated it.
It was hard for them to move on without Jiro. His bright light was something that changed an entire room. His funny text messages would no longer pop up on their screens. His lively smile would not be at the forefront of their memory. It was a cruel thing to realize- him not being there anymore.
But somehow, things feel a little better when they look at his Poloroid pictures. Because everything he took photos of were photos that he had loved, all the way up to his death.
The flowers in bloom, as the bees hover around their beautiful petals. The food he was blessed to try and enjoy. The various shops that are filled with life and prosperous business. The children playing soccer on the fields, pet owners playing with their own children. Married couples enjoying their new path of life, and dating couples enjoying the sights. A lot of these pictures weren’t focused, blurred along the way as people continued spending their time doing their everyday business.
It was the sight Jiro saw though. And it was mundane, it was cruel… because it was absolutely normal to Ichiro and Saburo. But Jiro saw more than they ever could in those photos.
Jiro saw the life in these people, and how these current actions were going to treat them for the better in the long run. He saw how much they enjoyed life with their smiles and joyous actions. He saw how the world was just as fascinating to them as it was for him.
And Ichiro and Saburo… just fail to see them the way Jiro did. No matter how much they try to, they can’t ever reach the imagery that Jiro saw behind his eyes day after day.
There was only one photograph that seemed … normal. Decipherable, moderately understandable. The descriptors could go on for ages, but that photo was the most beautiful one of the bunch. It always was, and it would remain that way, even months later.
It was a photograph of a young male, enjoying the sunset high up from a tower. The yellow and orange hues of the sunset bounce off of their pale skin and their dark makeup, but that smile that they gave to the camera was just as dazzling as the sun setting behind him. In his hands was a small stuffed pig, but that stuffed pig was held in such a way that it proved that it had significant meaning to the man in the picture. There’s nothing else except that man, his stuffed animal, and the setting sun. And yet… it’s the most beautiful photo there.
Why, they wonder. Why this one, out of all the other ones Jiro took pictures of.
It took them another few days to figure it out.
He had “loved” this person as well. Jiro only took pictures of things that made him happy, that he could say that he loved unabashedly. It would make sense that this particular image followed the same set of rules that Jiro’s photo collection had.
But Jiro had taken this photo on his last trip before he was hospitalized for his Hanahaki until his passing. It has easily been six months since that trip, and Jiro never asked his family to find someone for him. He had enjoyed every day in the hospital, adoring his Polaroids and writing all the things that made him happy. So… does that mean Jiro did love this man? Or was it something else?
It took a few hours of deliberation, but Ichiro and Saburo decide that they must give this Polaroid to the man in question. Jiro’s love for this person in this particular moment in time was enough to make him take a photograph of him to keep for all eternity. It was a physical memory that Jiro wanted to keep forever and ever… and what brothers would they be if they never shared Jiro’s love to the people that were important enough to record?
With that in mind, Ichiro and Saburo set off on their own journey. A journey of goodbyes, a journey of love.
A journey of endings.
Nagoya. The place Jiro stayed in before he was admitted to the hospital full term. While he loved the homeliness of Ikebukuro, the sights of Yokohama, the fashion of Shibuya, the dazzling night life of Shinjuku, and the recognizable “home away from home” style of Osaka… Nagoya was the place he found a reason to stay in. He stayed for months, roaming around and soaking up the sights. He enjoyed the sights and food, and the temples of course.
But the sights weren’t the only reason why he was compelled to stay here as long as he did. He loved somebody here. And as members of Yorozuya Yamada, it is their responsibility as Jiro’s brothers to locate that one somebody he loved.
All they can go by is the sight of this man, and his stuffed animal.
It takes them a few days to find the tower the photo was taken from, but the sight alone was a reason to stand there and watch with their hearts breaking. It showed the delicate beauty of the day coming to its end. It showed the brightness before dark. It showed the extinguishing light of Jiro’s life before their tired eyes. As the sun sets, they see glimpses of Jiro’s smile. They never realize the sun has completely set until the security guard comes to inform them of the tower’s closing.
It was a very trying couple of days as Ichiro and Saburo saw Jiro in every place they looked. Jiro loved absolutely everything he came across, and he took pictures of it all. The little pond by the park. The small hole-in-the-wall restaurant. The niche fashion corner of the mall. He loved it all, and Ichiro and Saburo saw the entirety of this little place in Nagoya mapped out entirely in Polaroid pictures. They visited every single place, and they closed their eyes, imagining Jiro’s wide smile and twinkling gaze as he snapped picture after picture. He looked happiest when he ate some old-fashioned home cooking, snapping more memories linked with the food that reminds him of the family waiting for him back home. And… perhaps, he was sad that he would have to leave this world so soon because of Hanahaki.
However, he burned like the sun. His fiery passion for life itself, and all the small aspects that make it good or bad, was enough for Jiro to yearn to document every single passing moment. Just one human amongst billions… and he was probably the one that harbored the most love out of them all. It leaves Ichiro and Saburo heartbroken over that simple and cruel fact.
Jiro… had so much going for him. But because of Hanahaki, he couldn’t pursue any of those goals.
And he never had it in himself to hate anything because of his circumstances. He just accepted his fate without question, and continued to enjoy what he could with the time he had left.
If his family restricted him… would he still be alive today? If his parents were able to persuade the doctor to give Jiro the surgery, would Jiro be the same? If they made Jiro hate all the things that he loved, would he still be there, with them?
Regret and bitterness linger in the back of their throats. It grips their hearts like vices, and they wonder if this phantom sensation was similar to the feeling Jiro was forced to experience day after day until the roots strangled his heart and flowers suffocated him in his sleep.
Saburo was the one that was filled with the most disdain out of the two. He was the most intelligent out of the three, endeavoring to find some sort of back-alley cure to Hanahaki that maybe wasn’t clinically tested or simply “in existence” just so Jiro could live one more day. But yet, he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t find that miracle item that would help ease his brother’s pain and suffering. All it did in the end was make Saburo suffer the consequences: the ultimate sacrifice known as mourning the passing of a loved one.
He never allowed himself to cry. Not when his mother and father were doing it for them.
Jiro’s clothes lay haphazardly across the bedroom floor.
His mother’s tears have stained the floor more than once.
Their father set up the altar so that Jiro would always remain with them.
His tears lay hidden amongst the extinguished incense sticks.
So why? Why is it that he feels the tears overflow when all he’s doing is standing on a street his brother traversed before his death?
His throat feels like he’s choking on his own ill flowers. He doesn’t even know that he’s screaming Jiro’s name until Ichiro is hugging him tight.
Flashing in Saburo’s vision is Jiro’s smile as he snapped the photo of the restaurant's front before walking down the street.
Even though he was in front of death’s door for practically his entire life, he smiled like he experienced the greatest things ever.
Saburo will never understand. But at the very least, he was able to understand one thing.
“I… n-never told Jiro how much I loved him…!!!”
Saburo was too young to recognize his parent’s somber expressions. All he learned at his tender youthful age was that Jiro was sick, and that loving things made him sicker. When he was able to grasp the truth and truly understand Jiro’s mortality, that was when all the walls came up in his heart.
It was beyond painful for Saburo to do that, but he felt like by “rejecting” Jiro, he’d be able to live a little longer, buying Saburo the time he needed to try and do something to cure his illness. It’s only now, when he’s studied the entire ins and outs known about Hanahaki, that he realized he didn’t do anything to ease Jiro of his pain.
Jiro passed away at the age of 23. He was projected to pass away at his age, and that was a generous approximation by the doctors because Jiro loved all there was to life. Saburo acting like the stubborn little brother that didn’t want to rely on his big brother… it was absolutely pointless.
And he should have known that it wasn’t working. Especially when Jiro rubbed the top of his head affectionately, the brightest smile on his face.
The red rose. The simplest way to speak of love, desire, passion.
It became his own red spider lily, but Jiro didn’t mind in the slightest.
Instead, a field of red roses look like spider lilies to Saburo. Because they stole his brother away from him. Because what use is love if it can’t be reciprocated without repercussion? Passion and desire wither away when love disappears. In the end, is it really that important to have if it can be so fickle?
Saburo kind of wants to live a life devoid of love now. He feels numb to affection, so consumed by the grief that overwhelms all of his senses. If you live a life without love, would you live longer? Will you no longer be in any pain?
Love is suffering. Love is dying because of your ideals.
Like the red roses, love is exchanged for the ultimate sacrifice: a human’s time.
It can’t be more important, more precious than the mere concept of prolonged life.
Because if that was the case, if love really meant all that, then how is it that Saburo is here… and Jiro… isn’t?
Jiro loved absolutely every single thing in his life. If loving things could make you live forever, Jiro would have been able to live for hundreds or thousands of years.
And yet, instead, he’s gone, only to be succeeded by a thorny red rose.
Saburo sees Jiro reach out to him to pat his head. His large hand wasn’t as large as Ichiro’s, but it was still large enough to cover the top of his head. The warmth that’s usually behind that action is no longer there.
The smile, and the fond way Jiro spoke his name… fading into memory.
Jiro flickers away from his vision, and Saburo hides into Ichiro’s jacket to chase away the sadness that threatens to suffocate him.
Like his own rose trying to kill him from the inside-out.
If Saburo was the most disdainful of the brothers, Ichiro was the stubborn brother who refused to accept Jiro’s death as reality. Even though he knew Jiro was gone, even though he’s spent hours in front of his altar, he refuses to accept this as reality. Because he simply does not understand how to live life without Jiro’s presence.
All his life, he has taken Jiro under his wing, burdened with the title of “big brother.” When Jiro looked up to him, Ichiro always thought he was destined to do this. So when he was diagnosed with Hanahaki at the age of 7, Ichiro was at a loss. He had already learned about Hanahaki (in a condensed lecture that was sugar-coated with fantasies) so he knew Jiro had a cure somehow.
Imagine how cruel reality is when he realized there wasn’t an available cure for the young boy who just loved everything there was to life.
From then on, Ichiro lived life with a smile on his face, refusing to accept the fact Jiro was dying because of the things he loved. His ears were stuffed with imaginary cotton, refusing to accept the fact Jiro’s coughing fits were increasing in intensity. He refused to accept that Jiro would eventually leave this world before him.
Isn’t it obvious that Ichiro should leave this world first as the eldest brother? Why does his younger brother have to leave before him? And at such a young age too…
While Saburo locked himself up in his room, looking for answers in the research documents online, Ichiro was looking out in the real world, hoping to find a miracle case for Jiro. It was part of the reason why he created Yorozuya Yamada in his high school years. Even though it was a jack of all trades kind of company, he was so desperate to find a cure for Jiro, he was willing to do just about anything in exchange for that precious information.
The harsh reality is that … the things he and Saburo did were absolutely pointless.
Ichiro’s ears are still stuffed with cotton, so he’s kind of in this limbo state that can still function while Saburo is falling apart. It is the big brother’s responsibility to support the little brother.
He still can hear Jiro’s lively voice when he called his name. It rings in his ears, resonating throughout his entire soul.
Saburo’s cries grow louder, they sound more heartbreaking, but Ichiro can’t really understand his pain. If he breaks down, who is going to be there for Jiro–
And then he remembers.
Jiro has passed away.
He remembers the altar, the locked door to his room, he remembers the process of preparing a funeral for him.
He remembers the red roses that stained his hospital bed and his lips.
Love, passion, desire. It repeats like a cruel mantra inside Ichiro’s head.
Love. Jiro had love for everything, and more to spare for his family. It came at the cost of his life, but he never seemed to mind that. Love…. is only something he can have for his family. He detests the rest of the world because it was so cruel to Jiro and took him away at such a young age.
Passion. Even though Jiro knew he was dying from Hanahaki, he lived with this burning passion to embrace everything in his life. Ichiro never knew that passion. He just ran with that elder brother’s mentality. He thought that looking out for them was his passion, but in the end, it wasn’t that.
It was just the desperation to escape the cruel realities life was giving him.
Desire. Jiro desired Ichiro and Saburo to love life the way he did. That was why he took the pictures and kept them all in a box. He saw vitality in all the small things, so he could still smile even though the picture was blurry and indecipherable.
Ichiro desired one thing and one thing only. To save Jiro. It was an all-consuming mania, and it consumed just about every iota of his being. Which meant that it consumed all of his time he could have spent with Jiro.
Ichiro could have spent hours playing video games with Jiro, or reading manga with him, or watching anime with him. They could have cooked dinner together, gone shopping together. Ichiro could have been there for Jiro, but instead he spent all of his time trying to prevent his younger brother’s demise.
And then it hits Ichiro like a bunch of bricks.
Love, passion, desire. Jiro had these three things on constant repeat because his family no longer had those for him. It’s because they were so consumed with trying to save Jiro, that they never decided to stop and think about how Jiro was doing.
His flower was a red rose because Jiro was loving himself to make up for the fact that his family no longer loved him.
It feels like the dam has opened at this point.
Ichiro’s knees buckle under the weight of his grief and newfound sin. He falls to the floor, Saburo following, and they just bawl in the middle of the busy street.
Regret. So much regret. If Ichiro could repent, he wished it would show his regret. He would cry it, he would bleed it… he would pay for it for the rest of his mortal life, and then some. Because he committed the ultimate sin.
The sin of not loving his brother.
“We… were so consumed with the desire to save Jiro, we never stopped to see if he was okay. We were so consumed with the future, we never stopped to embrace the present. And the present we could have had with Jiro was taken away from us, as well as his future… A-All… All the time we could have spent with him went to nothing because we wanted him to have a future… ”
Saburo grips his older brother’s jacket and wails for the first time since Jiro’s passing. Ichiro’s tears spring from his eyes faster than he could stop them. Instead of stopping them though, he just hugs Saburo back.
“B-But, we loved Jiro-nii!! We loved Jiro-nii… and we did the wrong things…! I- I should have known that there wasn’t some hidden miracle for a Hanahaki patient that loved everything in his life! But I didn’t want Jiro-nii to go away just because he was a good man who loved everything! It sounds so cruel, doesn’t it?!”
“It shows… Saburo. We could have done things differently… we could have shown him love and support… for the one brother that was suffering. If you can recognize it, and I can recognize it… then it shows that we went about this the wrong way… and we pay the price for it by having to live the rest of our life without him by our sides.”
“Instead… he will live on inside your hearts, yes?” A kind voice asks. Ichiro and Saburo’s sobs suddenly stop and they look up at the person in front of them.
Dark hair and makeup, with kind blue eyes, and a stuffed pig stuffed animal held in a clear backpack.
It takes them a few seconds to process this person in front of them, but they scramble to find the photo inside Jiro’s memory box.
They find the photo and show it to the person in question. Their tear tracks shine against the sunlight, and the male in front of them provides them with spare handkerchiefs from his backpack with a smile that reminds them so much of their departed brother.
“Excuse me, but is this you?!”
Aimono Jyushi. That was his name. It was about as free flowing as the words Jiro wrote about this mystery person. It wasn’t much, and it was in passing, but Jiro smiled when he recalled his trip to Nagoya.
This person must be the person Jiro recalled when he smiled like that.
They decide to speak in the back corner of a nearby cafe, letting the ambient noise of the life around them cloak their conversation.
Ichiro and Saburo explain that they wanted to pass this picture along to the person that made their brother smile, to show this person that he was loved by the one person on earth that could love everything. And as a result, he had passed away loving everything.
Aimono Jyushi looks at the photo Jiro took of him and smiles fondly.
“Jiro-kun… was a bright light. About as bright as this sunset if you ask me. Our conversations never lasted long, but he always came with a smile. It was a very charming smile, one full of vitality, despite being at death’s door. For a man to harbor such love for everything, stronger than anything… it’s certainly an interesting sight. But it was one of the things you can’t help but love about him.”
“Jyushi-san! Aren’t these steamed meat buns delicious? You can totally taste the love inside these things!”
“Jyushi-san… look over there. That guy over there is gonna propose to his girlfriend soon. Oh, he’s going for it! Will she say yes? Aaaand there’s the score! Another happy couple to be wed. Isn’t that a beautiful sight?”
“Jyushi-san… the sunset looks absolutely lovely, doesn’t it? Why don’t you pose with Amanda, to commemorate our anniversary!”
“It was… to commemorate the anniversary of our meeting. Our “one day” anniversary. It was so outrageous, to have a one day anniversary. But we spent that one day together, doing everything and nothing at the same time. It was painful, because already Jiro-kun was suffering. But when a man like that smiles and embraces everything in their life, doesn’t it make you want to do the same as well?”
Ichiro and Saburo spend a long moment recalling the pure life that Jiro exuded in his everyday life. That love, passion, desire he had… it was because he embraced everything in the stead of his brothers. The photos and memories? Just so then they could experience what he saw.
“Jiro-kun told me that he took photos so then his brothers wouldn’t miss out on the life he had. He knew that they were trying so hard to find a miracle cure for him… and he knew life wouldn’t be so kind to him. ‘If this girlfriend I’ve had all my life wasn’t going to give me the cure when I was 7, there’s no way she’d give it to me now that I’m in my 20s,’ he said. But it wasn’t with malice. Instead… it was with such a smile, that a normal person wouldn’t be able to tell that he was sick.” Aimono Jyushi folds his manicured hands with a small smile. “That was just the type of person he was… for the me who spent such little time with him… even I understood that much. The time we spent together was short… but I feel like I learned a lot about that man in that time period. His sudden entrance into my life was surprising, tilting my world as I know it here and there. However… he will always be a role model to those he’s touched.”
Aimono Jyushi’s shoulders shake as he suppresses the tears that seem to threaten to spill, but he keeps smiling. “Jiro-kun loved everything there was to life because he knew everything was their brightest in the here and now. The spontaneity of the chaos called life was something he cherished and craved. And to the normal person, it may seem… strange, but when everyone is so focused on the past or the future, they never seem to take a moment to enjoy the here and now. Jiro-kun though… he loved every single instance of the here and now. He loved the present, as well as the past and the future. But he knew that not everyone is like him, especially his older and younger brother.”
Ichiro and Saburo look at him with shock, and after taking a moment to wipe a tear from his eyes, Aimono Jyushi pulls out a letter from his backpack.
“Jiro-kun loved you two more than anything in the world, and he knew that his passing would cause you grief and suffering. He figured you would begin to detest yourselves because of your actions, but he wanted you two to know that he never once hated you for trying to do something to prolong his life.”
With trembling hands, Ichiro grabs the light blue stationary taped with a sticker of a soccer ball and opens the letter.
To my lovely Ichiro nii-chan and Saburo,
I know that by time you read this letter, I have passed away. My time in Nagoya has shown me that my time is nearing its end, but I am okay with it. You two though… might be beating yourselves up for the stuff you’ve done. And I’m writing this now to beat some sense into you two!! (LOL)
To my Ichiro nii-chan. I’m thankful to you and all you’ve done to take care of me. I know you secretly dropped out of high school to get a head start on Yorozuya Yamada, but I kept that a secret from Mom and Dad. You wanted to help our parents with the future of my medical bills, and I’m eternally grateful to you for doing that. But seriously, nii-chan! You run yourself down into the ground day after day, going so fast that you don’t ever stop to see the sights around you! I admire your concentration and focus, your desires to help our family being the point of all your concentration. But nii-chan, that’s in the future! What about the now? Have you done anything for yourself for once? You probably haven’t because ‘you’re the big brother,’ but I am saying as the dying middle brother that you need to spend some time for yourself for once! Think of yourself for once, and you’ll soon find out that even the air smells nicer when you just take a moment to breathe. And then the world that seems monochrome to you might be a little brighter as well.
You might think that I loved everything, from this flower that’s choking me from the inside, to the strangers I pass by, because you never paid any attention to me. Nii-chan, I’m here to whack you upside the head!
For some reason, Ichiro feels a phantom weight of Jiro’s hand on top of his head.
I loved everything because everything had something to love about them. The granny’s free buns that came with our little order. The children running around and playing like they should, enjoying life as they should. Even the good weather. I loved everything there is to this thing called life, and you can’t expect me to have reasons for liking what I like (LOL). But at the very least, I never felt abandoned by you or that cute and stubborn brother that’s reading this off of your shoulder.
Ichiro looks over his shoulder to look at Saburo. His eyes are shining, lip trembling, but he keeps his eyes focused on the blue stationary that had Jiro’s messy yet adorable writing.
Ichiro can’t help but feel like this is the right thing to do.
This is basically Jiro’s will, just for the two of them.
I think I felt even more love for you guys because I knew what you two were doing. You guys tried to make it seem like you weren’t doing things for my sake, and somehow, I knew it wasn’t the case. Quite the opposite, indeed, ahaha!!
Jiro’s smile looks brighter than anything behind these words.
Oh, I guess I should address my adorable younger brother now. Otherwise I’ll go through all I wanna say and leave him out. We wouldn’t want that, would we?
“You’re really a fool Jiro-nii…” Saburo’s voice trembles. Regardless, he stares at every line of writing on the stationary, not blinking the tears away. Everything could disappear in a moment’s notice, after all.
To my adorable little brother. You’re a lot more like Ichiro-nii than you realize. You two focus too much on the future, you two don’t take a moment to rest for yourselves! And you are a pure genius, Saburo. I’m proud of the things you’ve done. Even if your research never did anything for me, you know the absolute ins and outs of Hanahaki! I think you’ll find a cure for people like me sometime in the future. Just because I die because of Hanahaki doesn’t mean that you should abandon your years of research. Sure, it might be tough without me there, but don’t think that your life stops just because mine has!
Because you know? I’m always there with you!
“Always and forever…”
Saburo gasps as he hears Jiro’s voice, albeit distorted. He looks around, and he sees Jiro’s smile, his lively light, all burning like the sun that’s shining outside.
“Jiro-nii…!!!”
Jiro stuffs his hands in his pockets and shrugs helplessly. “I know I’m not there anymore, but it’s not like I’ll no longer be there! I’ll just be hiding, kind of like how you were.”
Saburo’s tears flow faster than they can be stopped, and his heart feels like it’s being crushed by all of the grief, regret, and pain he’s been bottling up on his own.
“I know you tried your hardest to mature even though you were the youngest. You wanted to become a reliable young man so then I could rely on you if I needed your help. But because of that, you refused to give yourself the time you needed to understand your emotions, and process them in general. You bottled up your emotions, and you forced yourself to become this empty shell. You will try to argue and say that you had all sorts of emotions, but it’s all desperation fueled by my progressing illness. There’s no true emotions in there, not the things that make you Yamada Saburo, my precious younger brother. So if there’s one thing that I want you to do, it’s to freely express yourself. Living a life void of emotions might seem to be the safer option, especially because of the grief you’ll be going through since I will no longer be there. But Saburo… life becomes beautiful in its cruel and unexpected ways because humans can comprehend all of these emotions. If you remove emotions from your equation, you won’t ever be a human. And don’t argue with me, silly brother! I will roll around in your bed and haunt your every waking moment if you decide to become a robot!!!”
Ichiro stifles a laugh, his tears flowing faster than before. But he continues to read the words fondly. Saburo feels the heavy weight of Jiro’s hug embracing him. It’s like a warm, comforting blanket that eases the pain… just a little bit.
“The road of processing grief is a long road. But don’t think that you should give everything up just because someone you’ve cherished is no longer there by your side. It is a long journey, and it is filled with many hardships. But the skies will brighten up for you someday… as long as you’re looking up to see it.” Aimono Jyushi recites a line from Jiro’s letter, a fond smile on his face. Ichiro and Saburo look at him with surprise, because they see Jiro there with him as well, saying those same exact words.
“Just keep moving forward, my brothers. I’ll always be there to support you. And hopefully, you’ll be able to find it in yourself to learn to stop and appreciate the things that you come into contact with. There’s much more to life than you think there is. It isn’t all clouds and gloom. There’s love, happiness, and hope. Lots of it. The world is seeping with it! And I hope that you two will be able to feed some of that hope to our parents, and the people around us. I won’t be able to do it for them… but I hope that you’ll be able to see the hope and love in this world, so then you can show them all this world has to offer.”
“This will not be a goodbye. Goodbyes are for forever. And while it may seem like that this will be forever… it will never be that. I love you all, and I love our parents, and I love everyone who has enriched my life in the ways that they have. I will love you all with everything that I have. And never forget… I will always be in your hearts, right next to you.” Ichiro says shakily.
Aimono Jyushi takes a deep breath to conceal the tears he’s beginning to shed. “Jiro-kun asked me to pass along this message… as well as this one. Um… ‘If you guys didn’t get what I wanted for you guys, I want you guys to step out there into the world and smell the roses! Don’t hate these lovely flowers because I exchanged my life to grow them. Instead, see me alongside those roses and care for them. Care for them, care for each other, care for this world!’”
Saburo rubs his tears with the sleeve of his jacket. “How is it that he’s more worried about the flowers than his own health…” Upon seeing someone hold a bouquet of roses from the far window of the cafe though, Saburo seemed to understand it a little.
An image of Jiro flickers by as the man fiddles with the bouquet in his hands. He looked nervous, maybe on a first date or similar of the sort. His nerves couldn’t conceal the happiness in his eyes though.
Was this the sight Jiro saw? The small minute nothingness that changed the meaning of all of the things in the world?
“Jiro-kun loved it all… but he hoped that he wouldn’t be the only one that could love the world with all its imperfections. He hoped… his brothers would begin to love the world and everything that happens in it. And even if bad things happen, everything deserves a second chance and a helping hand to bring it back to the right way.”
Ichiro’s eyes widen as Saburo watches the man with such intensity. The entire world seems to slow down as a young woman looks lost. The man holding the bouquet raises his hand and rushes to meet her in the middle. With a red face, he passes the rose bouquet to her. With wide eyes, she accepts the roses and takes a deep breath.
She says something, and he flushes darker in response. She laughs at his response, but holds the bouquet close.
They were clearly going to go on a date, but they were so self-consumed with trying to find the things they needed to help Jiro’s life. And because he passed away, they lost all views on their lives.
But this liminal space, fragmented with lights and happiness, was the world Jiro saw.
Love, passion, desire…
These are the things Jiro wants Ichiro and Saburo to have. As long as they have love, passion, and desire, they will be okay. They will be able to move through their journey of mourning, their journey without Jiro physically by their sides. And maybe now… they can actually look at the roses without tearing them to bits.
It isn’t a journey of goodbyes. It’s in fact, a new journey to discover the beauties of the world in its imperfect and flawed ways.
“Jiro… must have loved you a lot if he explained all of these things to you, and burdened you to pass on his final messages.” Ichiro looks up to Aimono Jyushi, who shakes his head.
“It was no burden. I am more than happy to help. Jiro-kun provided new insight into how I should live my life. This is just me paying my gratitude forward, I guess. You two were the ones he loved a lot. He loved you two more than his own life, which is why he actually considered getting the surgery. He just… didn’t want to tell you two because he didn’t want you two to live with a Jiro that wasn’t “him.” The surgery could have changed his outlook on absolutely everything, and without the ability to love, he wouldn't be able to love you two the way that he has…” Aimono Jyushi’s eyes shine as he looks at these two brothers. The brothers he loved more than anything in the world. “He decided that dying for the things he cared for the most was more important than living as nothing more than a hollow shell. Because ‘a Jiro that doesn’t love is not a Jiro at all’, according to Jiro-kun of course.”
Saburo turns to look at Ichiro with wide eyes. They take a moment to process the shock, because they assumed Jiro refused the surgery because he didn't want to deal with the potential consequences of performing this surgery. It would be difficult to completely cure, because Jiro loved life itself. With further research, Saburo realized that Jiro would have had potential cases throughout his life where Hanahaki returned. And because Hanahaki causes such a strain on the heart and lungs in the first place, Jiro’s frailer body might have not been able to handle the stress of constant surgery and the forced removal of his flower.
In addition to the potential mishaps in regards to the surgery, there were the medical costs that come with such a life threatening surgery. The Yamadas were just a normal family living in a normal apartment for the five of them. They all gave their all to pool their money together, but the cost of his hospitalization would outweigh what the government would provide for them. Jiro’s journey throughout the country helped them pool what they could, but they still couldn’t afford the funeral Jiro deserved. He does rest in their family grave though. That was the one thing they wanted for him.
So to realize that Jiro thought of them instead of himself… it really just showed how much of a caring man he was. Stupid, selfish, and caring. That was Jiro for you.
That was their brother, who put everything in front of his own health.
Ichiro grasps Saburo’s hand tight as another wave of tears overcome them.
But they refuse to actually cry. Not when there’s nothing to cry for.
After all, Jiro rests in their hearts, with his constant smile and bright hope warming their chests.
“I think… there was a reason why he left the picture of Aimono-san in his box of memories.” Saburo wipes his tears with an appreciative smile. “Aimono-san has given us Jiro-nii’s will and hope. Now it rests with us, and we can share that same will and hope with our mother and father, and everyone else who loved Jiro the way he loved us.”
Ichiro nods and bows his head in appreciation towards Aimono Jyushi.
“Thank you so much for bringing our brother back to us.”
Aimono Jyushi bows back, long hair brushing the end of the table. “Thank you for loving Jiro-kun so that he could teach me how I could love the rest of my life. If you ever come back to Nagoya, I’d love to show you and your family around. But you might’ve seen the places already, considering Jiro-kun documented everything.”
Ichiro laughs for the first time in what feels like forever, and distantly, he can hear Jiro laugh alongside him. It warms his heart.
“He may have documented all the things he liked here, but there’s a difference between seeing and experiencing. If the entire family can come together… I will take you up on your offer, Aimono-san. And if you ever come down to Ikebukuro, I’d love to show you the places Jiro loved. As a person that Jiro loved.”
Aimono Jyushi looks like he’s choked up by the offer, and his lip trembles.
“I would love to take you up on your offer, Ichiro-san.”
After some small talk, Ichiro and Saburo leave the cafe with a huge weight lifted from their shoulders. And like Jiro suggested, they look up at the sky and marvel at the sight.
The pinks and oranges of the slowly setting sky seemed to be lighter than before, and some stars were already trying to poke through the canvas of the day. The clouds reflect the beauty of the sky, defining the clouds to the point that they even make some indistinct shapes.
Saburo points at one of the shapes, which somehow looks like an ice cream cone laying on its side.
“Look Ichi-nii. It looks like an ice cream cone laying on its side.”
Ichiro looks at the cloud and makes a humming noise. “Are you sure, Saburo? It kind of looks like some somen noodles to me.”
In the distance, there is a child that laughs loudly as his father picks him up and flies him like an airplane. For the first time in a long time, Ichiro and Saburo smile.
Because Jiro was living in every single thing that was around them. If they wanted to see glimpses of him, they would just have to stop and look around.
Maybe it wasn’t too bad looking at the world in slow motion.
Wrapping his arm around Saburo’s shoulder, Ichiro guides them towards the train station. “Let’s go home, Saburo. And let’s pick up some roses for Jiro when we get back.”
Saburo nods with a small smile. “Yes, Ichi-nii. I think it would be a nice pop of color for the altar, wouldn’t it?”
“Of course. It was the flower our dear brother loved most, after all.”
Aimono Jyushi sits alone in the cafe, coughing into his handkerchief. Looking at the blood stained flower petals, something in him sinks. But his mind takes him back to the day he had spent with Yamada Jiro, and the subsequent days afterwards.
Those days weren’t days of regret. They were days of love, the greatest days Jyushi has had since the passing of his grandmother.
Jiro was such a charming man. And his observation skills were second to none. It was such a shock, coming from a guy like him who just seemed to enjoy everything. Jyushi realized upon their meeting that he was such an observant guy because he loved everything.
So it wasn’t surprising that he picked up on Jyushi’s feelings before they left on their own paths of life.
Jyushi looks up as a worker from the cafe asks if he is okay, and he closes his handkerchief filled with blood-stained flowers.
“Are you okay, dear customer? Would you like some water?”
Jyushi closes his eyes and gives her a cordial smile. “Oh, I’m alright. Thank you for your concern, and many apologies if this disturbed your business.”
When she leaves with an uncertain glance, Jyushi looks down at his flower once again.
The white lily. Innocence and purity. But when it is dyed red, it can also represent love and desire.
But for some reason this flower petal looks a lot like a rose petal.
Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him.
“If it isn’t rude to ask, but are you somehow diagnosed with an “incurable case of Hanahaki” as the doctors call it?”
Jyushi looks up in surprise to see a man with a Polaroid camera and the brightest smile known to man.
“How would you know something like that?"
The man laughs as he takes a picture of the white lilies Jyushi has stopped to adore.
“Because no matter how much you might want to hate the flower that you’re choking on, you can’t help but love it all the same. It is the sacrifice of those who harbor too much love for life itself to comprehend, so they try to choke our emotions out of us. But the blooming of the flower can also represent the overwhelming burst of love that pours out of the victims’ bodies. Death is never the end, just a feeble way to stop the love from spreading across the world.”
Jyushi finds those words extremely inspiring for some reason. So he leans across the rail and strikes up a conversation for the first time in years. “And what makes you think that as a victim of “incurable Hanahaki” that my flower is the white lily?”
The other male laughs. It sounds like it should have been clearer, livelier. But Hanahaki took it away from him. “Because I look at the flower that’s killing me all the time, the same way you look at that white lily.”
Jyushi hums, as if he was trying to test this stranger. But he gives up and smiles. “Well, dear sir. You are correct. My flower is indeed the white lily, which I have no clue as to how or why. So, may I know what your flower is?”
“He-heeeh. So I was right. I am not the only one in this world that is suffering from this type of Hanahaki. It just took me the entirety of my life, but I finally found one!” He turns to face Jyushi head on with a small bow. “Well, nice to meet you, Hanahaki mutual. My name is Yamada Jiro, dying from a red rose of all flowers!”
And Jyushi can’t help but feel enamored by this man’s confidence and vitality, despite dying from Hanahaki. He returns the greeting with a small smile. “Nice to meet you, Hanahaki mutual. I’m Aimono Jyushi, suffering from the white lily.”
Jyushi packs up his belongings and takes Amanda out of the cafe down the street. The sunset is just like the one he shared with Jiro all those months ago. It certainly is a beautiful time, just this special bracket of time that he gets to share with Jiro and Jiro only.
“You know Jyushi-san, a flower can change into anything you want it to if you believe. It’s kind of like magic for your eyeballs. It won’t be anything different in the real world, but for you? It might mean all the difference. Take your flower for example. When the white lily is stained red from your blood, it can be a little like a red rose, even though the petals are completely different. Because a red lily speaks of the love and desire that a red rose can harbor. So if you’re sick and tired of the idea of “innocence,” how about thinking about it in a way that shows you’re deeply in love with something!”
“Oh yeah? And what should I exhibit my love for?”
“Hmm… well, me? I’m just a walking bouquet of red roses and love, after all!”
Jyushi laughs at the recollection of this random conversation they had, before they shared their first and only kiss. He tightly grasps the medium-sized bloom he just coughed through, and looks down at the beloved stuffed pig in his arms.
“Say Amanda… let’s buy some roses and lilies, yeah? Before I begin my own final journey.”
And he disappears amongst the sea of men and women, imitating a blooming field of red and white flowers. This field of flowers, this earth, will be Jyushi's graveyard, as it was Jiro's. But their love, passion, and desire burns as bright as that setting sun. And that won't ever change.
Jiro's photo captured all the love, passion, and desire of everyday life.
Now Jyushi must leave behind something that expresses his innocence, purity, and love that comes with living on the earth as Jiro did.
Hmm...
Perhaps a melody would do nicely.