yifan/kyungsoo, kyungsoo-centric
hanahaki au
765 w
a.n: a nugget of what originally should be a full-length fic of hanahaki au if i’m not too much of a crybaby.
at first it was just an itch in his throat during rehearsal, a little bump easily forgotten as dialogues continue to flow towards his direction. autumn had already set in, so kyungsoo just shrugged it off as his body’s way to whine for vitamin c and more sleep--a nearly impossible privilege to enjoy when the fall’s production is closing in fast.
what he didn’t expect was to find a single yellow petal floating on the water of the toilet bowl, a speckle of phlegm surrounding the wilted flower.
“great,” he mumbled, spitting out the remaining petals in his mouth before leaning his head back on the toilet door. perfect, he thought. not only that he has a sore throat coming, now he’s hallucinating as well.
reality hit him harsh the next night, with the blood that tainted the yellow petals on his hand when he covered his mouth to cough out what felt like a congealed sputum on his vocal chords. a small droplet of gore falls onto his chin and kyungsoo had to sprint to the bathroom before any could smear onto his bright yellow t-shirt. apparently that only aggravated the itch further because next, he found himself heaving on the toilet bowl, dull yellow and vermillion covering the water and the toilet bowl’s surface.
at this time he began to panic--a little. mostly skeptical, because how the fuck do you cough out flower petals from your lungs out of nowhere? he might not be the smartest kid in class, but he knows that much that you aren’t supposed to cough out any foreign items unless it was previously inhaled. in this case, he didn’t even know which flower the petals are from.
fortunately, google was kind enough to provide him with an answer once he was calm enough to retreat to the comfort of the living room’s couch.
hanahaki-byou; an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs of flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. In order to fully recover from the disease, one’s love must be fulfilled. you can die from this disease by the flower petals blocking your airways and restricting respiration. the infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings will disappear along with the petals.
he also learned that flower petals that he coughed out belonged to a yellow camellia. the screen of his phone showing the color much more vivid than the ones coming from his lungs. the damn illness felt like a hiccup because the itch returned again immediately just by thinking about it and kyungsoo’s throat clenched upon reflex to prevent more petals from flying out.
“soo?” a voice called out. footsteps on the wooden floor soon followed the baritone voice.
shit. yifan. he’s home.
“hyung,” kyungsoo was quick to assume a sitting position, his phone thrown onto his lap carelessly, facing down. “hey. you’re home late. again.”
yifan looked bloody and battered--as usual. there’s a giant bruise on his left cheek, probably from taunting his opponent too much again ( kyungsoo always thought the male is too damn cocky for his own good ), but that still didn’t conceal the slight sympathy etched upon his features. “never mind that. i heard you coughing. go to bed already.” his expression is cold as always, jaw clenched and eyes piercing. but kyungsoo isn’t having any of that.
like you’re one to talk. kyungsoo held back from rolling his eyes in front of the elder boy as he stood up. “i’m fine. I’ll get the ice for you.” he slipped his phone into the pocket of his shorts and left the exhausted youth in their living room. worry still worms a way towards his chest, despite being far too accustomed with treating yifan’s wound after a night of street fighting.
( and his mother had told the latter to take care of him. shouldn’t it be the opposite? )
he catches the reflection of his face on the fridge when he reached for the handle; doe-eyes looking weary and heart-shaped lips curled into a slight frown. a lone petal almost blended with his shirt if it wasn’t for the splash of red and he wiped it off of his chest. no one should know about it, or have the slightest clue of what it was.
“you’ll be okay,” he tells himself, out loud for him and nobody else to hear. “you’re strong. this is nothing.”
kyungsoo also decided to hide it from yifan, because unrequited love isn’t something you should be flaunting in front of the subject of your affection itself.
