It's right after he rounds the corner that Reki breaks down against the wall with a sob, coughing, rain running down his face in rivulets. They do a solid job of hiding his tears, his throat burns in an inferno of pain, lips gasping for air he can't quite fit around whatever is stuck in there. Could be thorns, could be a cold, but all he knows is the feeling of air missing from his body and the lightheaded impulse to fall and just… fail to get back up again.
At least something he's good at these days.
He keeps coughing and barely shuffling home, fighting off the impulse of choking, clawing at his hoodie to open the collar if only wide enough to breathe.
One step, two, his skateboard tracing a trail in the dirt behind him.
It's a losing battle, he thinks when the episode starts getting better, when the dark spots in front of his eyes start to fade a bit, enough for him to realize that in his delirious state, he actually managed to find his way home. Something lands on his tongue, smooth and bitter and Reki spits it out, barely spares it another glance as heads inside.
Home, where his mother greets him with worry in her eyes, a frown that deepens the second she sees him in his wet, shaking, sickly state, tears still drying on his cheeks, long since washed away by emptiness that began spreading through his limbs the second the turned away from Langa.
Now, it's filled him completely and the boy stumbles past his mother, up the stairs, into bed.
His throat still pulsates, sore and scratchy, terribly uncomfortable.
Reki swallows it down, tasting the acrid copper on the roof of his mouth.
Breaths through the nausea and he falls asleep.
He wakes up mere six hours later to another coughing fit, only this time, there is no rain, no anxiety but the distant fear of choking on the resistance until whatever is stuck in there comes loose and finally, finally, he finds it in his hands. Wet with saliva, but out of his throat. He can breathe freely.
It's… a flower.
Reki knows it, or at least its name, its three petals snow white and tiny in his fingers, surrounding a pale green crown, stem thin and short and bright green. Snowdrops, these are snowdrops and Reki is shit with flowers, but he knows these at least.
As out of it as he is, Reki pushes his hair back and stumbles out of his bed, going for the kitchen in hopes of finding a vase or at least a glass of water for the flower. He does actually find one and returns to his room, only to find that apparently, sometime during the night, he managed to cough up a few more flowers.
No wonder he feels like shit.
Reki gathers up the other flowers, petals and all and drops them into his glass, smiles faintly as he pokes one of the blossoms.
Then, he whips out his phone and googles what the flower means in the first place.
Snowdrops .
He just coughed up snowdrops and isn't that a terrifying concept.
Reki just coughed up flowers and his lungs and throat are burning and he wants it gone the second he realizes why.
Because of course it took him turning away from his first love to realize that he is in love in the first place.
And when he reads the meaning, it only cements his realization, the kind words of " snowdrops symbolize hope and new beginnings. They grow in early spring and stand for snow, the cold times before the snow truly melts. On another note, they can be associated with young love, rebirth, modesty, innocence."
It fits so much, Reki's chest aches for completely different reasons and a completely different yearning grabs his heart and squeezes it until his soul threatens to burst out of his body and explode with warmth. Only to be swamped with memories of only a few hours earlier.
Suddenly, the rooms becomes very cold.
"Shit, Langa.", he whispers over at the flowers, reaching out for the pale, smooth petals, sobs, whether in pain or grief, he doesn't know. But, if he's being honest, whatever it is, of course it's Langa. Langa is a snowy hill and fresh air and the first time he's had the possibility of closeness and friendship and it's the first time he got the chance to breathe free and bright. Langa makes him smile, he makes him shed tears and scream and laugh. Langa glows like rising starlight and Reki knows that he is just a shadow, but he needs to bask in that light, if only just for a little bit. Langa is his calm eye of the storm and he needs it back.
But he can't.
He is tearing Langa down, plucking the star from the sky, catching the snowflake and melting it in the palm of his hand. And he doesn't want to. His best friend is the best thing that ever happened to him and Reki refuses to ruin him the way he watched his friend fall back then. He lost one beloved, he can not lose another.
And yet he can't stop this, Langa is going to get hurt and that's the worst part of all of this, because if Reki loves him enough to cough up flowers, then, well.
Langa does not love him back. That's the point of Hanahaki after all.
Unrequited love.
His eyes match his throat by now, raw and burning with tears unshed and Reki turns away from the flowers and spreads cold hands over the back of his neck, threads fingers through the hair there and he cries. He shivers from the cold and he cries.
He cries and cries and he grieves.
"It hurts."
When he arrives at Cherry Blossoms place, flowers in hand, Reki realizes that he might be skipping school today.
When Cherry opens his door, bleary eyed and with no glasses, hair all over the place and yukata a decency hazard, when the man takes a look at the dark rings under Reki's eyes and his pale face and the flowers handed to him in a peace offering, followed by a tiny, "I didn't know where else to go.". Well. Reki could care less as the man drags him inside and motions for the boy to sit on the sofa, then disappears to freshen up enough to pass for a human being again.
He cradles the flowers close, his board spread over his legs, worn and dirty in comparison to the sleek furnishings in Cherry's living room.
It fits as well into the living room as his scuffed shoes do, as the dirt on his hoodie does and Reki knows that his hair is a mess without his headband, but this is one of the few places where he can go without being judged for his decision.
He pulls at a few loose threads on his pants and tries to bring his hair into some semblance of order, interrupted by the occasional cough and a bout of nausea the second his throat starts to scratch.
It's that faint thought of Not again and Not on Cherry's expensive carpet that keeps the worst of it at bay, but Reki still regrets a bit that he didn't ask where the bathroom is. Cleaning a few tiles is easy, getting bloodstains out of a carpet is a nightmare.
Chery comes back in with a tray filled with tea and cookies, hair pulled back into a loose braid and in a much more presentable yukata, still not his work clothes but much more put together. His glasses are perched on his head, glinting in the sunlight streaming through the windows.
"Now, care to explain?" He offers Reki tea and for once, the boy accepts, grateful for the temporary reprieve from the pain. Lemon and honey. So the older man knows how to put two and two together.
Reki thinks for a moment, where he should start and in the end, he bursts out with everything. His feelings when he skated against ADAM, that pressure breathing down his neck, claws against his throat, how it still echoes off the scrapes left on his skin, shoulders, arms, back. How he felt after Langa's beef with ADAM, their promise and now? Langa's decision to keep going, how he feels betrayed but worst of all, just how worried Reki is for Langa's safety, not even on the track, but beyond. What the man will do to him, that creepy feeling that whatever ADAM is thinking, it's nothing good. Or morally acceptable.
He keeps going until he reaches last night, his words and how he yearns to take them back, but at the same time, how he is too close to leaving his board behind and never touching it again because, after all these years, Reki is finally scared.
Scared to lose all the connections he's made in the last few months alone, the friends he's made, to injury and his own uselessness, how every word whispered behind his back drives another nail into his heart and how he wants to support Langa, but in the end, they will never skate on the same track anymore and all Reki wants is their easy days back, without the threat of being swallowed whole looming over their heads.
Finally, Reki slides the snowdrops across the table and whispers, "I'm in love with him. And I hate it so much, Cherry."
Eyes burn into his head, drill through his chest to his heart, until Cherry has laid the boy bare before him, all his faults and mistakes left hanging in the air between them and then.
Well.
What flashes over Cherry Blossom's face is achingly familiar and definitely not comforting. A mirror image of Reki's heart, if only for a fraction of a second.
"I see. First of all, have you looked into Hanahaki a bit more?", Cherry sips his tea, waits for an answer and gets it in a faint shake of Reki's head, sighs, "Fine. Carla. Please tell me all you know about Hanahaki."
"Hanahaki disease is commonly known as the flower sickness of unrequited love. Though it is mostly caused by romantic feelings, it can show the same proceedings with familial and platonic love, when the person carrying the disease perceives unrequited feelings. It shows mostly in young women experiencing first love and rejection, more a common cold there than anything the movies promise, with different stages of severity depending on the person in question.
Depending on severity, Hanhaki can show itself with only petals up to whole flowers and in rare cases, certain foliage representing the person the sick loves. Some cases are severe enough for the need to be operated away, resulting in the loss of the feelings for the person it's felt towards, in some cases leading to depression and/or apathy. It is known that rejection can either cause the sick to move on from their feelings or make things temporarily worse, but usually it is recommended to confess if only for closure. Cases are known where one of the sick gets the disease every time they fall in love, other cases say it went away as they moved on from their feelings on their own.
Symptoms include a sore throat, coughing up flowers with different meanings depending on perception and sooner rather than later damage to the lungs in the worst cases. Common flowers in question are violets for familial love, roses for romantic love and sunflowers for friendship. There are always differences possible, the more specific the flower, the deeper the feelings and the higher the risks.", the AI explains, then adds, "In case of Reki, sundrops stand for…"
"I know! I googled that last night.", Reki blushes, deep red and shrinking into himself when Cherry stares him down with a withering glance, "It's new beginnings and hope and stuff like that. It's Langa okay." Much more soft, he adds, "It's only ever been Langa."
A raised eyebrow makes him elaborate a bit more, "He's the… first guy my age that ever bothered to give skating a chance, you know? I mean, it could be because he's canadiasn and skating is not that bad there or because he was actually curious, but he gave it a chance and he let me teach him and he is… Cherry, he is my friend. The first friend who didn't abandon me for my interests. He was right there and he was so kind and I guess it just happened. I can't even tell you when this damned crush started. It just… happened." Reki rakes his fingers through his hair, catching onto strands and he misses the familiar weight of his headband, the tight warmth, the security it gives him. Even if it's sight has been giving him bad anxiety for some reason.
"I see. And you woke up to the flowers this morning?"
"Went to bed with them last night." Reki thumbs a petal, rubs it between his fingertips, "Woke up this morning to a whole ass bouquet."
Cherry snorts, "Language."
"You're not my dad."
Though with how much he sees Joe and Cherry in relation to his own dad, they could be as much. They would make pretty cool dads, now that Reki thinks about it.
"And yet, here you are. So? What do you want to do now?" The man leans back and scans Reki's face, the way he coils more into himself, "Are you planning to leave S and avoid Langa forever?" It sounds sarcastic until Reki shrugs and gives a tiny nod.
"Maybe? Yes? I have no place there anymore. So why should I stay?"
Something in the way Reki huffs, the somewhat whistling sound coming out of his mouth, it's apparently enough warning for Cherry that he grabs the boy and drags him to the closest bathroom, helping him to the sink and holding his hair out of the way while Reki dissolves into coughing, wincing with every painful tug at his throat as the flowers tumble out of his mouth, piling up in the sink and painting it white and red. Reki is sobbing, gasping for the smallest of breaths as he clings onto the porcelain, eyes ripped wide open and glued to the tiny plants.
"Reki… Hanahaki is closely connected to the psychological state of mind of the patient. It's often triggered by stress and not just the feelings connected to them. There is more to this, isn't there?", Cherry asks, voice quiet, gentle, almost coaxing an answer out of Reki and it's not one he wants to give. It's an answer he wants to keep to himself, but he came here to ask for advice, for help, for something he doesn't know how to ask for. Company, maybe, understanding.
So Reki breathes through the pain, he gratefully accepts the tea Cherry brings him and once the soreness fades to something much more manageable, once the honey and the lemon run their course, he finally explains. Right there, on a white tiled bathroom floor, leaning against a bathtub with cherry blossom curtains, Reki pours out his heart and what has been going on in his head ever since they met ADAM for the first time. The anger and the terror, for Miya, for himself, the constant "I am not enough" rattling around his thoughts of Langa, the sting he feels every time Miya calls him "slime" or "golem", the whispers behind his back.
How the noise in his own head adds to it whenever he dares to close his eyes.
How to everyone, he is just a boy in the way to their ambitions.
The shivering, bitter cold wrapped around his throat whenever he notices Langa and the others just… leaving him behind, his own progress so much slower than theirs.
The betrayal drowning him in grief and loneliness, Langa in the rain, staring after him, a broken promise ripping a chasm in between the two of them, ADAM in the middle. He tells his older friend how Langas fingers wrapped around his wrist in a last attempt to connect and how Reki turned away and tore himself out of Langa's life, how the chasm spread in between the two of them.
Reki admits to the worst part in the end, "I lost my fun in skating after ADAM. I'm scared, Cherry and I can't do this anymore. I don't know what to do. That man took the one thing that means everything to me and he will take all that's left as well. He will take Langa away from me and I… I don't know how to stop it."
How do I fix this? How do I make this work again?
Heartbreak and loss.
Cherry leaves him to cry for just a second, only to come back a few minutes later, dropping his phone on the table. Careful hands touch slim shoulders, seemingly thinner and smaller than they actually are, pulling the boy upright until he lifts his gaze and stares up at Cherry, his face, his whole being begging for something .
Resolute and calm, the older skater pulls him into something not quite like a hug, but a point of contact, Reki's forehead falling against his shoulder as he breaks and breaks and breaks until there are no more tears left.
Until exhaustion gets to him and Reki passes out with thin, long fingers carding through his hair and someone whispering calming words into his ear.
Reki wakes to the sound of a game over jingle right next to his face and quiet cursing, a small weight plastered to his side.
When he dares to open one eye, he is met with black hair and that ridiculous antenna tickling his nose, a bony shoulder clad in the brightest neon green you could find. Traffic stopping and ridiculous, just like the person wearing it.
He lets Miya play a little bit longer, cuddled up to Reki's front as he is, just watches the kid over his shoulder, the tiny pixelated hero running through endless halls and dying on the spot whenever he meets the same opponent. Still, Miya manages to move forward, as slow as his progress is, starting over in the safe room time and time again until he finally reaches the next stage and turns the console off, glancing back at Reki.
Reki blinks owlishly at him.
Miya screams and falls off the sofa.
"Fuck, sli.. Reki, you could have said something!" He screeches, "I almost had a heart attack, you asshole!"
"Language, or I'm telling mom." Reki grouches and reaches out to the younger boy, making sleepy grabby hands at him, "Come back here, you were warm." And the same size as Koyomi and he will never admit to missing her crawling into bed with him whenever she had a nightmare. He misses her hugs in general. She is all grown up these days and Reki both loves and hates it.
The tiny gremlin growls at him, but doesn't answer, instead he climbs back into the hug and cuddles into Reki's chest, "Cherry called me. Said you need me here."
I don't. But you need me with you. I do. I need you here. Reki wants to answer, swallows down the bitter, I was about to break my promise. Sorry, I'm sorry.
He holds Miya closer, ignoring all protests and dramatic gagging, he shoves his face in dark hair and he mouths apologies into the space between, stuffing his mouth full of hair. He doesn't care in the least.
Miya tries to get out of it until he doesn't, small hands lingering on Reki's arms as he breathes into Reki's chest.
"I'm sorry." They both start in unison and then pull back to look at each other. Miya's eyes are big and green and wide and finally, after what feels like ages, Reki burst out into laughter.
"Sorry." He giggles and tucks Miya closer again, "You first."
"Fuck it, let go of me!" And the struggling starts again, getting out of hand until Reli accidentally tickles miya, Miya shrieks out a laugh and the older brother instincts kick in, "I take back what I wanted to say, it's not important anymore! You are gross and weird today!"
Reki reduces Miya to begging and hiccups within mere minutes, breathless himself, smiling wide and soft and somewhat freed.
The mood still falls when his throat starts scratching again.
"I'm thinking about leaving S." Reki finally blurts out.
On the floor, Miya stills. Swallows. Nods, gestures a somewhat helpless "go on".
"Things haven't been very peachy there lately, ever since ADAM came back and I…" He snips, at a loss for words, "I think I'm not all that welcome there anymore? I have no place there."
"Is it those shitty slimes talking behind your back?" Miya hisses, shoulders rising into a threat, eyes sharp and furious, "I can handle those just fine, just point them out to me. I'm the only one allowed to talk shit to you."
But I won't. Don't leave , his eyes scream, don't leave me behind as well.
Guilt crashes into Reki at this, guilt at even considering leaving without a goodbye, without an explanation, so he fumbles and he stutters and all that really comes out is "I'm so sorry, I never… I promised… You… I promised. But I can't... " Deflated and defeated, he sinks into himself, stares down at his hands and blinks away the memory of petals and blood clinging to his fingertips. Somehow, the flowers are all he can think about even now. "Why are words always so hard when I need them most?" He laughs, a sound like a dying bird, "I…"
"Don't leave." Miya interrupts him, quick like a gunshot, quick like the scratch of a cat, "I will never call you a slime again. You can hug me all you want, I won't fight back. But don't leave."
The unsaid please is left hanging in the air. It echoes off the walls and it floats in the room, multiplies and settles around Reki in a weight made of expectations and oaths he wants to keep.
"I promised."
Their eyes meet, Reki's apologies and Miya's loneliness, their desperation and determination. Small hands grab bright yellow hoodie fabric and Miya pulls him closer until their foreheads are smashed together into a gesture too intimate for the tiny body made of rage and spite, "You promised. You… you don't have to skate. I get it. Cherry tried to tell me a bit of what happened, but I want to hear it from you when you want to tell me. He did tell me about the flowers though. If you keep your promise, I promise I will find a way to crush ADAM. Just. Don't leave." Righteous anger and fierce destructive force in a body too small to handle it, Miya seems feral in this one moment and yet. Reki knows that he at least is perfectly safe.
"What if I can't? Go to Crazy Rock that is."
"Wait for me outside. Be there the next day. Stay my friend." It sounds like a demand, an order and it's one Reki is all too willing to follow. This is the closest Miya will ever get to pleading and he does not have the heart to make him beg. Not when he needs the younger boy as much as he needs Reki.
So he offers Miya something real, not quite a smile but close enough, "I think I can keep that."
"Good. then we're bringing that creepy fucker down."
"And how exactly do you plan to achieve that particular goal?" Both boys scream when Cherry appears out of nowhere and falls into his earlier seat, "How do you feel, Reki? Did you two talk?"
They nod. Reki shrugs, "Pretty okay for now. My throat feels testy, but it's not as bad as earlier."
Cherry sighs, "Good. Reki, I called your mother and clued her in so she doesn't worry. Apparently your school already called and asked about your whereabouts and she had no idea of your circumstances. You might want to speak to her about that in person. Later. And I believe you have a shift at Dope Sketch today so I took the liberty and called in sick for you there as well until we have this mess figured out. Now. First of all, Miya, you will leave ADAM to Joe and myself, focus on keeping Reki safe for now. If you decide to go back after all, Reki, please stay as far away from ADAM as you can, that is an order, if I have to make it one." He keeps shifting his focus between them, stern and calm, even though his eyes promise hellfire on any opponent foolish enough to brave his stormy moods. "If you need a break, take it, keep close to Miya if possible. Joe will talk to Langa, see if he can get his side of this ordeal out of him so we know how to proceed from here. But there is one thing I need to say, Reki: Hanahaki is a sickness of perception. I can only advise you to talk to Langa at some point and confess. Closure has been known for a long time as a possible cure, be it rejection or a more positive outcome. But leaving yourself in this state of imbalance will make things worse, so please, give it some thought. If you have an answer, it can give you the needed motivation to move on. I'd rather not lose a promising skater to his own stubbornness. It already took one of my best friends." After a moment of quiet, the man clears his throat, takes a sip of water, adds, "About the other thing I'd like to say: If anyone dares to say even one word against you, I will not stop Miya. You have grown on me and I do consider you a friend, as strange as that is. Same goes for Joe. That ape might be useless in most departments, but when it comes to those he holds dear, you can rely on him."
This is the most he ever said to any of them and it leaves the boys speechless. Reki stares up at Cherry in something akin to wonder, open and soft, hair drooping into his eyes, completely different without the headband and Miya kicks his side to snap him out of it.
"You're important to us, you nerd." He grumbles.
The redhead just nods and looks away.
"Thanks." He whispers and his mind finally calms.