Chapter Text
Forget-me-nots, also referred to as myosotis or scorpion grasses, are a common type of wildflower. They come in many colours, but are characteristically depicted in blue and white, identified by their yellow centers and delicate petals. Scorpion grasses are considered to be weeds, and are aggressively invasive. Though they are non–toxic when eaten, ingesting large quantities can cause harm. Seeds are commonly spread by attaching themselves to garments, falling off later and germinating where they land.
Forget-me-nots symbolize fidelity and remembrance, though, ironically, they’re commonly only remembered for their name, and pitied for their loneliness.
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As long as he could remember, Lu Guang felt like he was drowning.
He was on his own, exhausted and kicking fitfully as he tried not to be pulled under by the rushing water around him, hoping someone would remember that he was out here.
He couldn’t cry, because he was too busy surviving. He couldn’t call for help, lest he swallow more water and sink sooner. He couldn't find anyone else to suffer along with him, because his little world only consisted of himself, the man who put him here, and the water that was rising around him, determined to end him sooner or later.
It was like that for so long. Lu Guang felt like he’d always been like that.
And then came Cheng Xiaoshi, pulling him out of the water on his sad little dinghy and letting it take on water as Lu Guang shivered and coughed, grateful for the attention.
In that moment, Cheng Xiaoshi became his whole life. Became the one bright yellow spot in Lu Guang’s sea of blue and sorrow. He tended to Lu Guang’s wounds, filled his stomach, and warmed him up, making the shaking child feel human.
Which made it all the worse when Cheng Xiaoshi dropped him back on dry land again, rowing away on his own and forgetting Lu Guang all over again. Leaving him alone, shaking and shivering on the shoreline as he started wading back into the water, reaching a hand towards the water as he began to choke, water spilling from his mouth as gargled out a cry for help.
He doubled over in pain, his chest squeezing tight as he watched Cheng Xiaoshi disappear over the horizon.
“Please… Come back,” Lu Guang choked out through coughs, blue spilling from his mouth and onto the soft sand beneath him, “Please… Love me,”
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He couldn’t breathe.
Lu Guang gasped for air, failing, wheezing as something rattled in his chest.
His head spun, and his lungs felt like they were filled with something rough and jagged. Every instinct in his body told him he was drowning.
Lu Guang shot up off his mattress, clearing the memories of salt water and tears from his brain as he wrapped a hand around his throat, trying to claw away whatever force was keeping the oxygen out of his lungs.
He kicked his blankets off, like the thin material was the culprit behind his stolen breaths. He leaned his back on the wall next to him. Both of his hands were wrapped around his throat now as his vision blurred. He shook the bedframe as he tried to cough, limbs shaking as he struggled against himself.
He was being too loud. He was going to wake up Cheng Xiaoshi and ruin both of their nights.
“Lu Guang?” The groggy voice of his roommate asked from below him.
And it was done.
Lu Guang gasped, mouth falling open as his neck craned upwards, silently praying to deities he didn’t believe in for relief. When air finally entered his throat it burned. His insides felt raw, like something had raked through the lining of his esophagus.
He coughed into his hands as a messy head of black hair popped up from under his bed.
“Is it your sore throat again? Is it getting worse? Do you want me to make you some tea?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked, worry evident in his voice.
Lu Guang couldn’t respond. Didn't want to respond.
Didn't know how to.
His entire life, over the course of timelines and lifetimes, Lu Guang only knew silence. Pushing through obstacles on his own, in the background, avoiding Cheng Xiaoshi and Qiao Ling and Captain Xiao when they asked him to let them support him. He didn't have help, didn't want help.
Now, he didn’t even have the luxury of suffering in silence.
This cough had started two weeks ago at the basketball court, on the anniversary of their graduation, and had only gotten worse since.
Cheng Xiaoshi made them go all the way back to their home court for their celebration, the one where Lu Guang had been hit in the face with a basketball countless times and their story started again. Cheng Xiaoshi briefly threatened to recreate the moment, but an unamused look from Lu Guang made him move on quickly.
Lu Guang had gotten distracted as the sun started to set on them, the teenagers they'd been playing against for an hour leaving to go home to the dinners waiting for them at home. Only he and Cheng Xiaoshi were left at the court to play against each other.
He'd felt a tickle in his throat as Cheng Xiaoshi stole the ball out from under him, laughing triumphantly as he beelined for his basket. He sunk his shot easily, Lu Guang left stunned as he watched him and fell in love all over again.
Eyes sparkling as he glanced back at his partner, sun shining against his hair, giving him a halo. A sight Lu Guang knew and loved like a prayer.
Cheng Xiaoshi looked so happy on his own, as he turned away from Lu Guang, celebrating by himself as he earned a point, bringing the score to 9-13.
Lu Guang smiled, stealing a bit of Cheng Xiaoshi's victory for his own happiness.
He glanced at his watch.
It was 4:59.
And then, right there, Lu Guang had doubled over coughing, voice hoarse and chest sore as he failed to get whatever was stuck in his throat out. They went home not long after that, Cheng Xiaoshi warming up some clear broth for Lu Guang and a cup of tea when that didn't help.
Now, Lu Guang doubled over coughing in bed, body trembling and ribs aching with the force of every hack and wheeze.
Something was in his throat again, choking him, trying to claw its way out. The longer he coughed the more his ribs hurt, and he already felt like he’d been going for hours.
Finally, Lu Guang felt a small mass travel up his esophagus, soft and coarse, magically not rendered slick and slimy by the bile in his throat as it stuck to the inside of his mouth and upper palate. He doubled over, coughing as hard as he could into his hand.
Relief, for a moment.
And then Lu Guang felt his stomach drop. He stared at his palm with slow, growing horror.
The silence in their room felt like a death sentence.
“Hey, Lu Guang, say something. Do you need to sleep in tomorrow? Should I make an appointment with the clinic? What is it?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked, already climbing up to his partner’s bed.
Lu Guang looked up at him, grey eyes full of tears. He clutched his hand to his chest, not wanting to reveal his pain to Cheng Xiaoshi, certain he'd come to all the right conclusions. Until, he realized, this was a death sentence. A confirmation of all of Lu Guang's worst fears.
He realized there was nothing Cheng Xiaoshi could think about this, nothing he could do, to change Lu Guang's fate. And for a moment, he felt relief, a fat, hot tear escaping down his cheek as he did so.
Lu Guang lowered his hand, holding it out to Cheng Xiaoshi like a wedding bouquet, revealing the culprit of his pain.
There, sat a bundle of small blue flowers, stained with bright red blood.
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Lu Guang tried his best not to hack into the doctor’s face as she shone a light down his throat.
From his place on the exam table he could see Cheng Xiaoshi standing over her shoulder, chewing at his nails. He had dark circles under his eyes, having stayed up with his wheezing and panicking roommate all night. Lu Guang had tried to walk outside the moment he realized what was happening, escaping from… something.
His legs gave out about halfway down the stairs, Cheng Xiaoshi catching him as he passed out. Lu Guang had woken up on the couch, hand wiped clean of the flowers he'd been clutching.
He replaced them quickly. Especially after seeing Cheng Xiaoshi staring down at a bloody tissue himself, a petal falling to the floor as he hid it behind his back.
Dr. Ma was the name of the woman currently inspecting Lu Guang and failing to hide her reactions as she checked him up. She was a disease specialist, one of the leading doctors in her field, and normally Lu Guang would have had to wait months for an opening with her. Qiao Ling had arranged their appointment this morning, as the sun rose on Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang sitting on the couch, both shaking off sleep as more forget-me-nots spilled from Lu Guang's lips.
Dr. Ma made an exception, squeezing him in before she left for the day.
Was Lu Guang lucky or unlucky for that fact? He wasn’t sure, but it relieved Cheng Xiaoshi, which was all that mattered.
The doctor turned the medical torch off, letting out a soft ‘tch’ as she wrote something down in Lu Guang’s chart. Cheng Xiaoshi shifted his weight between his legs, but didn’t say anything. Neither did Lu Guang.
They all knew what it was.
The growing pile of weeds and tissues in the doctor’s trash told them before she even uttered a word.
“You have Hanahaki disease.” She finally said, tucking a long strand of orange hair behind her ear as she sat down. “And, if I’m correct, you have one of the most acute cases I’ve ever seen.”
“What does that mean, acute?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked, already pulling his phone out of his pocket to look up the term, “It’s still curable, right?”
The doctor, who couldn’t have been older than her mid-thirties, took a deep breath as she gestured to a chair next to Lu Guang and the examination table, silently telling Cheng Xiaoshi to quiet down and listen.
He sat down with a huff, running his hands up and down his legs.
“‘Acute’ means sudden or severe. It's how we refer to cases that show up without much forewarning but are extreme,” She paused to let Cheng Xiaoshi ask more questions, and sighed when he didn't. “Hanahaki isn’t a rare disease, but it is usually slow.” She continued, grabbing her laptop from the counter and pulling up an x-ray that made Lu Guang queasy, “These are typical lungs in the early stages of the disease. Someone about your age. Here—” She gestured to the bottom of the left lung, closest to the heart, “—Is where the plant begins to spread. Symptoms at this stage typically include shortness of breath, fatigue, and literal heartache, caused by roots growing into and around the heart,”
Lu Guang looked over to Cheng Xiaoshi. His partner looked like he wanted to take notes, his eyes deadly focused on the doctor.
She turned her screen around, typed something, and turned the screen towards them again.
Cheng Xiaoshi’s knuckles went white as he gripped his own thigh.
The line between lungs, heart, and plants, orchids in this case, was non-existent. Roots and branches wrapped around ventricles and arteries, distorting and choking them.
“This is a progressed stage, in someone about forty years older than you, Lu Guang. Here is where you begin to see rib pain, an inability to breathe, expelling large amounts of flowers from your throat, as well as all the earlier symptoms.” She looked at Lu Guang directly, Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes followed. “We’ll have to take an x-ray to confirm, but I’m quite certain that this is what your chest looks like.”
He bit down on the inside of his cheek, drawing blood.
“But you could be wrong, right? Maybe he doesn’t look like that?”
The doctor smiled pitifully at him, “Maybe… But I do doubt it,”
"I don't get it, Lu Guang was hospitalized last year, why didn't they see the... this, then?" Cheng Xiaoshi sounded desperate, like a kid trying to get out of a punishment.
Dr. Ma checked her laptop, scrolling through something as her eyes darted back and forth, "Right... The stabbing incident?" She asked, directing her question to Lu Guang even as Cheng Xiaoshi was the one to confirm for her, "It's like I said, Lu Guang has an incredibly acute form of the disease. It likely only sprung up recently, and there'd be no way to catch it before now,"
Cheng Xiaoshi was silent for a second, until Lu Guang heard a disbelieving, “Hanahaki disease…” From his partner.
Right, of course that would be the thing that caught him most off-guard.
Hanahaki disease, the affliction of the rejected and unloved. Those who didn’t know when to let things go.
That was Lu Guang to a T, though Cheng Xiaoshi didn't see him like that.
He let his legs swing as he looked down on the cold hospital floor, lips pursing as he considered the short year since the last time he'd resigned himself to die.
A year ago, Li Tianchen in Qiao Ling's body had plunged a knife into his gut, and for once he felt relief. At least if he was dead and buried, Lu Guang didn't have to witness his entire world die around him again. He didn't have to be alone.
But now, it had been a full year. Vein was dead, Li Tianchen was getting the help he needed, his sister in a welfare home much different to the one Lu Guang had grown up in if Qiao Ling's reports were accurate. And a few months ago he'd started letting himself fantasize.
Lu Guang bit on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from tearing up. To stop himself from mourning the idea of waking Cheng Xiaoshi up one day, telling him they were going to the beach, and pouring out his soul to him. A love confession felt so far away now, a fantasy that was never meant to happen, because nobody would ever love him the way he loved them.
“There’s this misconception that Hanahaki disease is caused by unrequited love,” The doctor started to explain, taking her thin-rimmed glasses off and setting them down on the nearest surface, “Instead, many doctors choose to see Hanahaki disease as a physical manifestation of years of yearning… love, loss, longing,” She continued slowly, “Looking at your progression, it’s as if you’ve been holding back an intense amount of emotion, for a long time.”
Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t notice, but her eyes flicked between himself and his partner.
She sat back in her chair, “We can schedule you for surgery as soon as possible. My team can get you in right away. If we work quickly it would still be possible for us to safely remove the entire-”
“I—I don’t want to get the surgery,” Lu Guang rasped out, mustering all the breath he could.
The room stilled.
“What do you mean you don’t want to get it?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked, slowly turning to him in disbelief, who was suddenly more interested in his hands.
“The surgery… To take out the plant… A side-effect of it is that you lose all feeling for the person you… Uhm, you love… Right?”
“Someone who doesn’t love you back!”
“That’s not what Dr. Ma just sai—”
“Fine— Fine. You’ve been ‘longing’ for them, but it’s killing you. And you’re okay with that?”
“That doesn’t—” Lu Guang was interrupted by his own cough, “I don’t want to lose them. It’s important to me,” He looked down at the forget-me-not now in his hand, its petals bruised and bloodied.
Lu Guang couldn't tell whether the blood was from his lungs or the gash in his mouth.
“So the rest of us lose you?” Cheng Xiaoshi raised his voice, standing up out of his chair. “How is that fair? Who even are they?”
Lu Guang clenched his jaw, gaze fixed on the five petals in his hand.
He loves me not… He loves me…
Cheng Xiaoshi’s breath grew heavy as silence settled again in the office.
The doctor spoke up, “You’re correct about the surgery removing all feelings, positive or negative, you may hold towards the person who caused the disease. You won’t ever get those back, nor the ability to feel for them again. But,” She scooted her chair forward, holding Lu Guang’s hand in her own and covering the bloodied flower from his view, “You’re young. There will be other people. People you can love more, who will love you back,”
She sounded like she still had hope, which was both kind and cruel.
She’d never know how much of Lu Guang’s lifetimes had revolved around Cheng Xiaoshi. Circled and twisted around him like the roots had wrapped around his windpipe. She’d never know how many times Lu Guang had prayed that he’d be the one to die instead, to start a new timeline knowing for certain that he’d be able to fall into bed with calloused hands and long hair.
That for once, he’d be known and loved as much as he knew and loved.
Cheng Xiaoshi loved him, sure, but like family. Like Qiao Ling. A platonic companion.
Lu Guang lived to make him feel loved, to make him feel safe and happy and healthy and alive, only to be forgotten again when mid-September came.
Even now, having bypassed it all, Lu Guang knew nothing other than Cheng Xiaoshi. He loved him more than he loved the air in his lungs.
‘There will be other people? People you can love more?’
Lu Guang shook his head, “There's nobody else.”