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Ever since Hoseok can remember, he’s had a problem. Well, its not really a problem for anyone else because no one else can see them. It’s more of a personal problem. He stares at himself in the mirror as another pretty pink petal spirals to his bedroom floor. Ever since he can remember Shin Hoseok has grown cherry blossoms on his head just like hair. They push themselves out from between the strands, sometimes just single petals but other times they are full buds that grow into beautiful blossoms. Which would be fine and everything if he wasn’t the only one who was able to see them. Like, sure, it would be kind of weird to see someone with flowers growing out of their head but people would get over it. Its more strange to see him suddenly space out in the middle of a conversation as he watches another petal float down in front of his face. His friends just think that he’s spacey and easily distracted.
Hoseok sighs, running his fingers through his dip dyed hair, shaking it out and causing more petals to fall, some of them settling on his shoulders. He brushes them off and pulls a beanie down over his hair. He grabs his coat and his bag and heads out of his apartment on his way to his favourite cafe to get some work done on a new song he’s producing.
It’s mid November now and Hoseok can’t help but feel like his white and blue hair makes him stand out against the sky’s grey back drop and all the business folks bundled in their monotone winter coats. He doesn’t care much though. Even though he had initially bleached his hair it in an attempt to eradicate the cherry blossoms, he likes the way it looks.
It’s something that has always baffled him about the flowers in his hair. No matter what he does they just keep growing back. He’s tried cutting his hair, he’s tried bleaching it. He’s even been tempted to shave his head just to see what would happen but he’s never had the guts to follow through. Sometimes he thinks that he’s crazy and he’s just made all of this up but there’s one person that makes him think otherwise.
He was in grade three, around mid November. Not quite winter yet not really fall. His mom had taken him to a park to play out side before the weather got really terrible. He had been playing in the sand box with his plastic dinosaurs, cherry blossoms a shocking pink against his then black hair.
He had been so absorbed in saving his little dino family from an incoming meteor that he hadn’t even noticed another little boy crouching down in front of him.
“Why are their flowers in your hair?” The boy had asked and Hoseok had fallen backwards on his ass in surprise. He blinked up at the boy crouched in front of him. He was small, with short chubby arms and legs bundled into warm clothes for winter. The November air had bitten his pudgy cheeks bright red and his hair was fluffy and messy against his forehead, black and flower free.
“I—I dunno.” Hoseok responds, a little taken aback by the sudden question. He hadn’t ever really thought about where the blossoms came from. They had always just been a part of him as much as his eyes or his nose or the rest of his hair and no one had ever said anything about them.
The little boy reaches out on of his tiny hands and plucks a blossom petal right off Hoseok’s head.
“Ow!” Hoseok says, hands quickly reaching up to grab his head. The little boy looks genuinely shocked by Hoseok’s reaction.
“Woah, they really are attached?” He asks, petal hanging loosely from his fingers. Hoseok stands glaring at the boy and snatches the petal form his hand.
“Yes, they are attached, thank you very much.” He says with a glare before rubbing the sore spot on his head. Hoseok hears a quiet sniffle coming from in front of him. He looks up to see tears brimming in the little boys eyes.
“I—I’m s-sorry.” The little boy hiccups, trying not to cry. “I didn’t mean t-to hurt you. I just th-thought they were pretty.” Hoseok’s glare softens immediately. He crouches back down in front on the boy and pulls one of the looser flowers from his hair. He holds it out to the sniffling boy with the softest smile he can manage.
“You should have just asked for one, you know.” Hoseok says, and the boy looks delighted as he gently takes the full blossom from Hoseok’s fingers. He examines the blossom carefully before tucking it behind his ear.
“There. Now we’re the same.” He says, beaming up at Hoseok. They stand there smiling at one another for a moment before the boy comes to a sudden realization.
“You were playing with dinosaurs before, right?” Hoseok gives two quick, tiny nods of affirmation
“Great! I’ll go grab mine and the we can play together!” The boy says excitedly. He turns to sprint away but he gets about two steps before freezing and turning back to Hoseok.
“But, only if you want to.” He says, watching Hoseok, hopefully. Hoseok nods again and the boy grins, bright and wide, cheeks pushing his eyes into tiny crescents.
“Wait!” Hoseok calls after him. “What’s your name?”
“Kihyun. What about you?”
“I’m Hoseok.”
“I hope we can be friends, Hoseok.” Kihyun says, before sprinting across the park to where his mother is sitting.
The two spend the rest of that cold November afternoon playing with plastic dinosaurs in the sand box. The sun is beginning to set and the two of them are just sort of pushing the sand around with their dino’s feet and digging holes as opposed to actually playing any games. About halfway through the day they had discovered that they both liked pokemon and they had gotten distracted. Conversation flowed easily between the two children and they were very quickly becoming friends.
In a moment of quiet Hoseok turns to Kihyun and says, “You’re the only other person who can see them, you know.”
Kihyun looks at him quizzically. “See what?”
“The flowers. No one else has ever said anything about them, even though they’ve always been there.”
“Well, maybe we were supposed to find each other.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. I do.”
After that day the two boys are inseparable. They discover that they go to the same school, and they spend every single lunch break together even though they are a grade apart. And almost every day after school Kihyun comes over to Hoseok’s house and they play together for hours. The exceptions are the days when Hoseok has tae kwon do after school or when Kihyun has vocal lessons.
The weekends are free game though. Kihyun will come over to Hoseok’s house in the early morning on Saturday and Hoseok’s mom will make them breakfast. Then the two of them, hand in hand, will run over to the park and play in the sand box, only breaking for lunch. When they are exhausted and the sun is beginning to set they head back inside and take turns washing the sand off their hands. Then Hoseok’s mom makes them dinner and Hoseok begs her to let Kihyun stay the night while Kihyun looks at her with the best puppy eyes he can muster.
Hoseok’s mom always concedes, as long as the two of them make sure to clean up any mess they make. The two boys squeal with joy and immediately head up to Hoseok’s room to play video games until they fall asleep, snuggled together, leaning back against Hoseok’s bed frame.
And then one day, it’s over. It’s November again and it’s Hoseok’s turn to stay late at school to help clean up the class room. He tells Kihyun to go ahead and that he’ll be home in less than half an hour.
Exactly twenty three minutes later Hoseok is excitedly dashing up the stairs to his own front door. He flings it open and expects to see Kihyun waiting for him. Instead he is greeted by his own mother, looking down at him solemnly.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. Kihyun had to leave.” His mother says, kneeling down so she’s eye level with her son. Hoseok pouts a little and then reaches out to hold his mom’s hand. She looks sad and Hoseok doesn’t understand why so in an attempt to comfort her he says,
“That’s okay. we always have tomorrow.”
“No, Hoseok. They’re moving away.”
And just like that little nine year old Hoseok’s world falls apart. He knows his mother is hugging him and reassuring him that everything is gonna be alright, but right now all Hoseok can do is cry his little heart out and repeat over and over again, “Its not fair. Its not fair.”
He know that his mother explained to him why Kihyun had to move but he doesn’t remember the reason any more. Something to do with his mother’s job or something. It wasn’t important to little Hoseok at the time. He does remember looking at his mother, cheeks wet, snot dribbling from his nose, skin red and blotchy. He remembers looking at her and saying,
“But he’s the only one who could see my flowers.”
The next day they head to the airport to say good bye. Kihyun hugs Hoseok, tears welling up in his eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Kihyun murmurs into Hoseok’s shoulder.
“Why didn’t you? We could have made the most of the rest of our time together but instead I feel like I just wasted it.” Hoseok whispers back.
“I didn’t want anything to change. I guess, I thought that if I didn’t talk about it, I wouldn’t have to think about it and maybe it would have to happen. Seems kinda silly now.”
Then Kihyun’s parents are calling him from the baggage claim and beckoning for him to follow them to drop of their luggage before heading through security.
Kihyun pulls back from the hug. He presses a quick kiss to Hoseok’s cheek before dashing toward his parents. When he’s about half way there Hoseok shouts,
“Promise me you’ll write!” He says waving.
“I promise!” Kihyun shouts back with that same bright smile from the first day they met.
They do write to each other for a while but they’re young and they easily forget things. As school gets busier and they grow older the letters get less and less frequent until one day they stop writing. Never again does Hoseok see the chubby little boy and never again does he find someone who can see his flowers.
Hoseok ducks into his favourite coffee shop. Its warm inside and the heat flushes his cheeks. The change in temperature causes his glasses to fog up a little. He makes his way to his usual table all the way at the back of the cafe. Its quiet there and the chairs are particularly comfy. He drops his bag by the chair, shucks his jacket and pulls his beanie off, shaking out his hair and brushing away the petals that cascade downward. Then he grabs his wallet and makes his way back toward the front of the shop where the counter is.
It’s still early in the morning so there isn’t a line. He walks right up to the counter, eyes down, focused on fumbling with his wallet. He can’t see very well due to the steam slowly fading from his glasses.
“Hello. How are you today?” A bright voice says from in front of him. Hoseok has a hard time stopping the chuckle that pushes its way out of him when he hears the sarcasm behind the nicety. This barista is clearly does not care how Hoseok is today.
“I’m good. How are you?” He responds digging through his wallet to find the right amount of change to pay for his usual coffee.
“I’m great!” And Hoseok can’t help but think that this guy must be new. He really needs to work on his customer voice.
“What can I get for you? The barista asks.
“Just a medium coffee. Dark roast with room for cream, please.” He says finally finding the quarter that he had been digging around for. A ceramic cup full of black coffee is placed on the counter in front of him.
“That’ll be $2.50.” For the first time since the beginning of their interaction Hoseok lifts his head to look at his barista. And, damn, he should have looked up earlier. The boy behind the counter has soft cheeks and bright crescent shaped eyes. Even his clearly forced customer smile is charming. But what really get Hoseok is the boys hair. It falls fluffy and messy against his forehead, dyed the palest cherry blossom pink that he sees in the petals that fall from his own head every day. It somehow still manages to look soft even though he clearly would have had to bleach the shit out of it to achieve that colour. Hoseok wonders what it would feel like in between his fingers. A single petal falls from the front of his hair and the barista’s eyes follow it downward as it lands gently in Hoseok’s coffee, barely causing a ripple.
“There’s a petal in your coffee.” The barista muses. Hoseok looks at him incredulously.
“You can see it?” He asks and the barista looks straight at him, confused and a little suspicious.
“…Yes? Can most people not?”
“No. Only one other person has ever been able to see them besides me.”
“Interesting. I knew a boy a long time ago who grew flowers from his hair that nobody but me could see.” The barista says, a smile creeping its way onto his lips. Its been over ten years, and all of his baby fat has melted away but Hoseok would still recognize that smile anywhere as it turns from sarcastic to genuine. It pushes up the barista’s cheeks and forms his eyes into tiny half moons.
“Kihyun?” He asks, hopeful but cautious. The barista’s eyes widen in surprise as he looks Hoseok over.
“Hoseok?” When Hoseok nods, Kihyun scans him from head to toe, single eyebrow raised.
“Damn… You look good.” He says, and Hoseok smiles and ducks his head to hide the blush he feels creeping up on his cheeks.
“So do you. Looks like all that time apart really suited you.” He says with a smirk, leaning against the counter in a a way that he knows makes his arms look good. He feels like this should be awkward, but for some reason it doesn’t. It just feels like this would be the natural progression of their relationship. It is as if Kihyunhad never left. He watches Kihyun watch the muscles in his arms flex, before his eyes snap back up to Hoseok’s face.
“Shut up. You know that I missed you.” He says leaning forward on the counter himself into Hoseok’s space. Hoseok can’t help but be glad that there’s no one else in the shop. A couple of petals drop from Hoseok’s hair and flutter down in the space between the two of them. They both track the delicate blossoms on their downward spiral. Kihyun picks one of them up and holds it delicately between two fingers.
“I have my break in five minutes. Do you wanna get coffee?” He asks, looking at Hoseok imploringly, a small smirk on his lips. Hoseok smiles back.
“I would love that.”