Cyclamens and Chrysanthemums | A hanahaki story

Cyclamens and Chrysanthemums

Not knowing what the other person is thinking must be the worst kind of hell that exists on this plane.

I don't even know why I showed up to this party. None of these people are even acknowledging my existence. I mean, they'll talk to me, sure - if they can manage to pay attention to what I'm saying long enough to understand what I'm talking about and form a reply. That takes, what, 10 seconds? More time than I can keep them focused.

Everybody is wandering. Ember and Bealey are swimming in the pool and yelling, Nick is singing again and Cameron is waiting for his boyfriend to arrive.

Ah, yes, the couples. A common occurrence formed by necessity. Ever since the rise of the Hanahaki disease, a disease that feeds on unrequited love and grows flowers in your lungs that eventually kill you, and can only be counteracted by the reciprocation of the love or a surgery that causes you to forget your love, people had begun pairing off in order to avoid such a scenario. It started off understandable, but it can get irritating when people pay attention to their partner and nobody else. Unfortunately for me, I don't have the privilege of a second half and am therefore very susceptible to heartbreak. Fatal heartbreak, in a world where flowers grow in your lungs if you fall into one-sided love.

I jump around some more, happy just to be in a place with people I like, even if they are ignoring me, pitch in to a few conversations and sing a few songs. Slowly, one boy, Jav, begins to speak to me more. He's just that little bit nicer than the others, that little bit more receptive and engaging. Like he actually cares. The night passes in a blur and I can't remember what we talk about, but it feels right. But it never does anybody any good to assume, because assumption leads to emotional investment, and emotional investment leads to literal thorns in your ribcage.

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A few weeks later, we're sitting on his rooftop and watching the moon rise.

"Would you ever kill?" He asks.

"Not without a reason, no. But, say somebody was a genuine threat to many people - I'd have to stop him and if the only way to do that was to kill, I think I'd have to, morally speaking. Where do you feel calmest?"

"Anywhere quiet and not too hot with people I like. Generally, night time is the calmest time. Bonus points if it's a winter night. This-" He coughs.

"This is-" His coughing gets worse. He hacks and hacks, until finally he coughs up a single yellow chrysanthemum.

I stare at it. I stare at him. His expression tells me all I need to know. There's nothing left to guesswork.

"No, you can't-" I start.

"Wanna bet?"

"Can you afford surgery?"

"Just about."

"Get it."

He is silent. I watch his head shake and his mouth open, but I don't want to hear what he has to say.

"Jav. Get the surgery. Forget me."

I jump down from the rooftop and walk into the night. I walk far enough away from Jav's coughing that I can be sure he can't hear me as the tickle in my throat worsens and I cough up cyclamens. The flowers of resignation and goodbye. Fitting. I fell for him after all.

I'll get the surgery. Right after he gets his.

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There's a vine in his neck. I can see it every time I walk past him. I can see it on the backs of my eyelids as I close my eyes to hold in a cyclamen petal. I can see it in my dreams, the dreams that scream "Why do you refuse to love?".