hanahaki disease (bokuto ver.)
this is for the lovely ever @jonin-goddess , also known as admin owl! she’s the most adorable human bean and the best partner in crime for these imagines <3 i hope you like this alex-san ^.^
also, this turned out wayyyyy longer than i had anticipated, and i’m assuming it is as long as a fic because 1) i love bokuto 2) i love royal! aus (oop spoilter hehe) i’ve placed it under the cut so that it wouldn’t be one giant chunk, i hope the rest of you enjoy this as well!
In the Land of the Rising Sun, people were segregated by the infamous social hierarchy of the rich and the poor. The rich were often born rich, and remained rich throughout their entire lives, spending their money lavishly on exotic items and balls. The poor, were born poor and remained poor forever, often working arduously for a living, or working for the rich.
Bokuto Koutarou was lucky. He was born into royalty, with his father being the king of the land. The Bokuto’s have been ruling ever since the land was discovered, and thus they remained rulers of the land.
You, were not as lucky. Born into a poor family, your mother worked tirelessly at the palace to keep you warm. Your other siblings weren’t as lucky as you, for they died in childbirth with you being the last one of your family. You lived in the palace, where the Bokuto’s had built and lived lavishly as the daughter of one of the servants. The previous queen had been kind enough to allow you and your mother to stay, thus with you working hard alongside your mother to earn your keep in the palace.
It so happens that the second queen of the palace had a son, which was your age but slightly younger by a few months. He was the spitting unique image of his father, save his hair which had streaks of white resembling salt and pepper. He was pampered splendidly by his parents, whilst you watched and served from the sidelines.
But he could not remain lonely for long. For Bokuto grew curious, just like any other child and wandered around the palace in search for a friend. It was fate that you had bumped into him whilst cleaning the corridors. He had bent over you whilst you scrubbed the floor, only seven at that time, “Why are you cleaning the floors? Shouldn’t you be playing outside?”
You had sighed and smiled sadly up to him, “Young prince, I am just a servant,” you answered his question.
He groaned and knelt down to your level, hugging his knees. “Do you take orders?” he asked, with a small twinkle in his eye.
You nodded, resuming the cleaning. “Then, as prince, I order you to come and play with me.” he requested in a firm voice, yet it came out slightly squeaky resulting in you giggling lightly. “It’s an order! From the prince!”
Chewing your lip, you placed the cloth back into the bucket. “Okay, but just for a while alright?” Bokuto grinned widely and took your hand, running out of the dusty and empty castle into the royal gardens. It was well maintained once by your father, who had been the royal gardener but died valiantly in a war to protect the land from rebels. Now, the garden was under your mother’s and a few other servants care. Sure it was flourishing, but it was not as beautiful as your father had once tended it to.
“Let me take you to my favourite part of the gardens,” Bokuto suggested, tugging your arm. You decided to entertain him, for you had already wandered about the garden many times before. You had only been recently ordered to become a servant, which meant you had five beautiful years of an innocent and carefree childhood before adapting to the life of a servant. Bokuto had taken you past the koi ponds, where the koi fish glistened under the afternoon sun, and past the blossoms to one lone tree at the end of the garden.
It was once a small training area for young princes and princesses, but after the master had passed, this area of the castle was left unattended. But yet, one persistent camphor tree remained rooted and grew. You had never ventured to this part of the gardens, for it was not as beautiful as the others such as the blossoms and flowers from different lands, but it would seem as if Bokuto had found a unique beauty to this tree.
“Let’s climb it,” Bokuto suggested devilishly.
You shook your head firmly. “Young prince, you mustn't! It’s dangerous, what if you fall?”
Bokuto scoffed and ignored your statement, placing one foot up the camphor tree. Within a few seconds, he was scaling the tree effortlessly and sat on the lowest branch, which was still high from the ground. “Come on uh… what’s your name?”
“__________,” you answered. “And no, I mustn’t. You shouldn’t either!”
He rolled his eyes. “You talk a lot for someone my age. Hmm, as prince I command you to climb up this tree,”
You were about to refuse when you realised that he had added the term ‘command’ which meant you were unable to refuse or risk death. Even if a servant refused a simple order could result in an execution, or if one was lucky enough, to be sent back to the streets. You hesitantly placed your feet on the tree, clinging to the branches for dear life. You were almost close to where Bokuto sat when he grew impatient and tugged you up.
You gave a sharp yelp, thinking that you had fell but you were sitting on the branch, next to him. “See, nothing bad is going to happen! Live a little _______,”
‘I would, if I had your life,’ you thought to yourself, but didn’t say it aloud.
It was that time where you started to fall in love with Bokuto and when you started coughing flowers.
~
As a prince, he had many duties already imposed upon him as a young boy and being the only child in the palace, you were automatically his friend ever since that day. He would often search for you in the kitchens, or amongst the corridors whilst you were doing your job - and often misuse his power to ‘command’ you to play with him.
He had many duties as a prince and was often busy with his private studies of the land’s history, political and economic influence of other kingdoms and etc. Often enough, when you walk past his classes, he would send you a bored look whilst all you could respond is with a sympathetic smile.
You were never born lucky, first to a poverty-stricken family, to a family unable to bear any more children other than you, and now, both your parents were dead. When you heard news about your mother’s passing, it came to you as a shock for she was healthy and never once shown a symptom of her illness. The village’s doctor had pronounced her dead from a weak heart, but you knew it wasn’t true.
The queen too heard about the news of your mother’s death, and kindly enough, she paid for your mother’s funeral. “Your mother was so hardworking, and never once did she falter in her duties,” the queen spoke sympathetically next to you. Tears flowed from your cheeks as you watched your mother being lowered into the local cemetery. Only the rich were able to afford such a luxury, and having good relations with the queen provided such a space. You were only twelve when she passed, and was taken under the care of the other servants.
Bokuto too heard about the news when you arrived back at the palace, tear stained. The queen again, kindly excluded you from your duties to settle the news of your mother’s death. Bokuto had snuck out from his weaponry lessons to console you under the camphor tree. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, patting your back.
“That’s how life is isn’t it?” you muttered sadly, taking in mouthfuls of air. “It’s just one bad thing after another. Give me a better life in my next one!” you yelled into oblivion, knowing that your words meant nothing in a world like this.
Bokuto had stayed by your side, without saying a word. Just the presence of him made you feel slightly better, with you rubbing your eyes and wiping away your tears. The sun was about to set, and you pushed yourself up, brushing dust off your tattered clothes. “Well, time to get going,” you stated, plainly.
“To where?” Bokuto queried, getting up as well.
“Kitchen duty,” you answered. “You want a taste of tonight’s dinner? Apparently there are important guests from the Land of the Morning Calm,” you pursed your lips trying to remember. “And from Europe,”
Bokuto groaned and ran his hands through his hair. “I think they are trying to court me with one of the daughters of those royals! I’m only twelve,” he pouted sadly.
You felt your heart ache for a second, coughing slightly. “Engagement?”
Bokuto nodded. Suddenly, a servant appeared from the corners of the garden and once she saw Bokuto, she sighed in relief. “There you are young prince! Come now, the king wants you! _________, the kitchen wants you too,”
“Coming!” you answered. You sent a wave to Bokuto and touched the tip of your nose. Bokuto responded with the same action, touching the tip of his nose. It was a secret code created by the two of you as a symbol of “good luck” to each other. You would often touch the tip of your nose whilst walking past his lessons, and he touches his own nose whenever he watched you doing a particularly difficult chore.
~
A few years passed and without even realising, both of you were turning sixteen. You turned sixteen first, which was a jovial occasion in which the two of you celebrated under the camphor tree eating the fruits that bore from the trees of the royal garden. Your sixteenth birthday was slightly special, for the servants had prepared a generous meal of rice with pickled vegetables, and a slice of expensive royal salmon which you had often wished you were able to taste.
“Go on _______-kun, it’s your sixteenth birthday, this is the best we can give you,” one of the kitchen staff had offered. With a big smile, you hugged each of them, for they were the closest thing you had as family.
You decided to savour the taste of the salmon, thus leaving it last after the sumptuous meal of pickled vegetables and rice. The fish practically melted in your mouth and you chewed in delight, savouring the taste to your utmost ability. That day, you perform your chores on a high mood.
Bokuto had approached you mid afternoon, whilst you trimmed the bonsai trees in the garden. He had a cheeky grin on his face and you had to admit, over the years he grew more handsome and yet he would never lose the childish glint in his eyes. That was one of the things you loved about Bokuto, and could never have, for your statuses differed too much to happen.
He had a burlap bag in hand and ushered you to come down from your ladder. “Are you very busy right now? It’s your birthday I can’t believe you’re still working!”
“A servant never stops serving,” you tapped his head, climbing down from the ladder. “I’m assuming that’s for me?” you teased, making an attempt to grab it. Bokuto instead, held it even higher, knowing you were unable to reach it for he was just that tall.
“The others won’t miss you for a few hours right?” he asked cheekily. “Let’s go into the forest.” he suggested.
You gasped and shook your head. “Your mother would have me executed if I went into the forest with you!”
“Why?”
“Because,” you bite your lip. “You’re a prince, I’m a servant. It’s just not right you know?”
Bokuto rolled his eyes. “You’re human, I’m human, come on, just for a few hours?”
You hesitated. “I command you to come to the forest with me,”
“Now you’re just misusing your power,” you crossed your arms. And because he had commanded you, you had no choice but follow him into the forest nearby the castle.
The forest had a much more different atmosphere from the gardens. Unlike the gardens, which was well maintained and leaves trimmed whenever they got they got unruly, the forest trees grew tall and sturdy, leaves sticking out in all directions and the forest floor covered in soft soil and dead leaves that crunched whenever you took a step. Bokuto found a rather shady area of the forest and there the two of you sat.
“Now, this is the real deal,” Bokuto sighed contentedly. He pulled the burlap bag over his thighs and pulled out something wrapped in the royal colour, purple with gold trimming. The colour purple itself was a symbol of wealth and the royal family, except Bokuto (because he prefers gold over purple) flaunt their status on a daily basis. “This is for you,”
You unwrapped the cloth to reveal a kanzashi kushi* set. You gasped and marvelled at the beauty. It was simple, yet it was elegant enough. The comb was a beautiful shade of cream, with flowers painted in yellow, pink and pale green. The pin had a similar design at the end and too bore the same colour scheme. “Bokuto-san!” you exclaimed.
“Call me Koutarou, we’ve been friends for ages already,” he corrected nonchalantly.
You blushed. “I can’t believe this,” you marvelled at the beauty and the thought that was put into this. It was simple, which meant it wouldn’t stand out amongst the servants neither would it catch the eye of the queen, yet there was so much beauty in the simplicity.
“Let’s get rid of this tree stick-” Bokuto began, pulling the chopstick that you had used for years to hold up your hair, allowing your hair to tumble down to your shoulders. Bokuto stared for a while, before shaking his head. “You look better with your hair down,” he stated, coughing slightly.
“Your mother would never approve of this.” you sighed. Pulling your hair back, you twisted it into a simple bun and requested for the hair pin.
“Let me do the honours,” Bokuto offered. “You just stick it through right?”
You chuckled and entertained him. The pin went through smoothly but parts of your hair tumbled out still. You took the pin from your hair, twisted your hair again into a bun and sticking the pin in an angle that would hold it all up. “Better?” you asked.
“Much,”
That night, you tossed and turned in your sleep, thinking back to the small, yet intimate hour you had spent with the prince. It was like a tragic love story like the one you read in the books, where the prince was never able to be with the girl that he loved. You then shook your head. ‘He doesn’t love me, impossible,’ you thought to yourself, knowing that he was probably in love with some other girl, maybe a princess from a neighbouring kingdom that his parents had already courted him with.
And your predictions, as much as you hated them, were often right. Not long after your birthday was Bokuto’s and as prince, he had thrown a lavish ball in the palace. Princesses from different lands were invited, all dressed for the occasion ready to enchant the prince, whilst you watched from afar, as a servant, longing for one day to wear the dresses that the princesses flaunted.
Your present to him was not as lavish as his was to you, but instead, you had spent weeks sewing a handkerchief for him. It was made out of expensive silk that you had spent a hefty amount at the market and thread that the other servants had lent you. It was a plain, white handkerchief with gold trimming. You had embroidered a grey owl in the corner, for it was his favourite animal and he would often visit his pet owl in the owlery.
That night, as he walked down from the stairs, you noticed your handkerchief peeking out from his clothes and you smiled to yourself, serving others in joy. But suddenly, events decided to take a turn and you found your chest constricting, as if something was stuck in your throat. You ran outside into the cool night air, clutching your chest as you coughed out whatever was stuck in your throat.
A handful of sakura petals.
You almost screamed in shock at the petals that fell from your mouth. You couldn’t stop the stream of petals that came out with every cough. A kindly old servant, who was your motherly figure found you sitting outside the gardens, coughing up enough petals for a small sakura plant.
“My dear, you are one of them,” she rubbed your back with a sympathetic voice. It turns out that in every hundred women, there was a curse on them. Generations ago, a woman fell in love with a handsome young man, who didn’t return her feelings. Feeling angry, because she had known him for so long, she cursed every women who the man had any interactions with, resulting in a curse that was passed down from generation after generation. She cursed these women to cough flowers whenever the ones they loved didn’t reciprocate the feelings, to make sure these women suffered the same pain she felt in her chest when she saw her lover with another woman. It was called, the hanahaki disease.
You were about to question why you, when you realised that you were in fact, in love with someone. You watched the ball from outside, where Bokuto was dancing with another princess, with a different look in his eyes. He looked happier when he was with her, and so did his mother and that’s when you realised, you were madly in love with Bokuto.
That night, you slept in the garden, not wanting the other servants to be awoken by your sobs or your endless painful coughs with sakura petals. Your chest hurt with every cough, and every thought of Bokuto and how he would never be yours. Tears streamed down your cheeks, as your sobs grew chokier and louder. You rushed to the camphor tree, where it brought back even more painful thoughts, but there was no place you could go where you could cry in peace.
Everything was a curse for you, your existence itself was a mere curse.
~
Bokuto had gotten engaged with a princess from the land of the morning calm, Korea. She was exquisitely beautiful, and terribly rich. Her royal family had connections with many traders around the world and their military was of top class. Merging these two families together will create a prosperous and harmonious kingdom for these two to rule, and it was perfect. A princess for a prince.
From that day onwards, your interaction with Bokuto grew less, for he was extremely busy with preparations to become king soon, for his father was growing weary. You rarely saw him around the palace, neither did he sought after you.
This silence continued until you turned eighteen. Your cough never stopped, often having to stop and rest from your chores to cough up petals that could be presented as a bouquet. You still painfully loved Bokuto, he was a fairytale you would never stop believing in.
Soon enough, his engagement ball came up. Most princesses from both lands had attended, so did their princes, as an opportunity to create more profitable merges. You were still a servant, serving for Bokuto when you noticed something odd in one of the rooms of the palace. You had noticed Bokuto had creeped up onto you, until his arms came crashing on your back. “________! It’s been a while hasn’t it?”
How could he speak with such a cheerful demure after not uttering a single word to you for two years. However, he was still the prince and you had to respond with utmost politeness. “It has been, whatever brings you to this part of the palace?”
“I’m searching for my fiancee,” he spoke of her highly and with a smile on his face. “Maybe she’s in here-” Bokuto opened the door to find his fiancee of course, but with another prince. You saw Bokuto’s face fall at the sight of his now embarrassed fiancee and even more embarrassed prince. Without a single word, Bokuto fled from the scene.
The princess called after him, but the prince had dragged her back into the room, shutting the doors tightly. You ran after Bokuto, who ran to the comforts of the camphor tree that the two of you once played when you were younger. He ran his hands through his hair, and you knew well enough he was trying not to cry for he had a tight expression. Carefully, you sat next to him, just like how he did when you were younger and you patted his shoulder.
“I thought I am in love with her,” Bokuto began, a choked sob at the back of his throat. “I should be feeling something now, shouldn’t I? Anger? Sadness? Tell me _______, what should I be feeling?” he asked. His expression was like a lost puppy and you couldn’t bear to give an answer to his question.
Your chest heaved and you coughed. This time, there were no petals. You were in shock and stared at Bokuto who was staring at you. “Am I in love with you ________?”
“That is a rash thought,” you began hurriedly. “I’m just a servant-” Bokuto cut you off by pressing his lips against yours. A squeal almost escaped you but you lost yourself in the softness of his lips, his arms wrapping around you and you found your fingers entangled in his hair.
“It’s you ______,” Bokuto breathed, pulling away.
“About time you noticed,” you teased, pulling him again for another kiss.
When you pulled away, the two of you were breathless. There’s no denying the sparks between you two and you knew that Bokuto was the one, because the only way to break the hanahaki curse was for the other person to reciprocate the feelings. And Bokuto did. Was his love for the princess, merely just lust? Or did he think he was in love, to please his parents?
“What now?” you asked. “We can’t return to the ball like this,”
Bokuto thought for a second and with a evil grin, he pulled you up. “Let’s run away in the moonlight.” he suggested.
You pulled your hand away. “Are you insane?! What if your mother finds out?”
“Just one night,” he requested. “I command you to run away with me,”
Yet again, you were unable to refuse, and Bokuto whistled for his horse. “My lady,” he offered and you giggled as he hoisted you up onto his horse. With his arms securely around you, you rode into the moonlight, just like any other fairytale.
*kanzashi kushi: a japanese comb and hairpin set