A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! This fic is actually mostly completely, but because the size was so enormous, I've decided to break it into chapters and post the rest of the chapters in consecutive days. Please enjoy this Valentine's Day present!
Flowers, as he knows them, are beautiful and awful portrayals of truths many would rather not acknowledge. He's heard countless stories of how this curse came to be.
Some say a human, arrogant and cocky, wished to win the affections of a goddess, only to turn her away at the last minute after losing interest. Wanting to punish the human and all of his kind, she cursed them with a disease that forced them to understand the pain of unrequited love, with flowers blooming from inside and choking them until what last comes out are spider lilies for the victims to be buried with.
Others suggest that it was a trick played from a malicious spirit, a trade for a lover's warmth gone wrong that resulted in a curse that was passed on through generations, spreading its hold onto the populations until it became as common as the common cold, but much more deadly and much less kind.
And lastly, many believe it is simply the result of the world they live in, that the disease comes from the particles that populate the air like a spore, the very same particles that help them create wondrous solutions to ease their ways of living, only to take root in their lungs, lying dormant until a strong emotion stirs the spores into action.
The first witches to study this disease hailed from the island of Japan, and as their studies deepened, the spread of this knowledge quickly followed.
They called it "hanahaki disease".
The flower coughing disease.
It started out simple.
An unrequited love. A crush that bloomed into something deeper. An infatuation that became more romantic.
The cases were all the same, and witches then could only do so much to help. Modern medicine had yet to be at its peak, and witches could only do so much with boiled herbs and incantations. Hanahaki was slowly becoming a pandemic that had only two known cures - the heartbreak that comes from an outright rejection or a cocktail of spells and potions that nulled your ability to love.
Still, others choose death over facing the heartbreak or weakening their will to love.
The textbooks claimed it to be a dark time in human history as more and more cases arose, and different strains began to appear.
Hanahaki from pining for someone who doesn't know you exist.
Hanahaki from pining for someone who wishes you didn't exist.
Hanahaki from pining for someone who cannot love you back.
Hanahaki from a lover who no longer loves you.
Hanahaki from a lover that is unfaithful.
Hanahaki from a lover who no longer lives.
The causes became more specific, more nuanced.
And the witches learned.
Doctors who didn't practice magic worked alongside the witches, and slowly, they developed methods to cure those with hanahaki.
Advice. Encouragement. Or simply, the bitter truth.
Hanahaki remained prevalent. But the deaths decreased as time continued on.
It's now considered to be as common as the common flu. And, quite possibly, just as deadly.
But it can be cured.
It can be cured if you wish to seek help for it.
Jasper stares down at his hands, teardrops falling into his palms as he clenches them.
It can be cured if you want to seek help for it.
There's a knock at his door, and when he opens it, a familiar ginger with bright green eyes and an even brighter smile greets him.
"Jasp!"
"Davey." He returns the smile and lets David in, the younger of the two carrying a stuffed animal with him - a little honey colored bear, fur worn and long lost its shine, covered in patches lovingly sewn on and stitches that range from poorly performed to expertly executed. "You got a new letter?"
"Yes!" David plops down on Jasper's couch, Jasper settling in next to his best friend. "This time, Mr. Pinecone only took an entire month to come back!"
"Ohh, a new record." The teddy bear in David's arms looks up at them both and lightly slaps both of their faces. David squawks in shock as Jasper laughs. Wanting to appease the stuffed toy, he pets the old thing's head tenderly. "Sorry, Mr. P. I didn't mean it like that."
"Yeah, and why did I get slapped too? Jasper said it, not me!" David pouts as he brings the teddy bear to his face before remembering the item clutched tightly in his paws. A letter addressed to David (with Jasper's name included in parenthesis). Mr. Pinecone looks away and shrugs, only to slap the letter against David's face soon after. "Ow!"
"Man, you guys couldn't have picked a more feisty messenger, huh?"
"I think he gets it from Daniel." David's smile turns tender as he plucks the letter from Mr. Pinecone.
Daniel, David's long time pen pal since elementary. When the three of them first exchanged photos of each other in high school (on David's insistence, of course, Jasper had wanted nothing more but to stand to the side), he was greeted by the sight of a teenager with platinum blonde hair and piercing eyes so blue one would think that Daniel could freeze someone in their place. Strange, he had found it, when all he had known of Daniel was from the warmth he wrote onto paper every time Mr. Pinecone would come to deliver. A cocky smirk, eyelids lowered enough to suggest the suggestive, his selfie practically radiated a kind of energy he wasn't ready to associate with quite yet.
But to say that he didn't like Daniel would be one of the biggest lies he's ever told. With all the time David has spent sending letters and getting Jasper as involved as he could, it would be hard for Jasper to see Daniel as anything other than a friend, a close one even. It's strange, having grown up with another person miles away. Even without the direct interaction, he knows all about Daniel's little quirks - how his handwriting looks more refined when he's trying to write about something impressive he's done, the way his letters blend together when he's writing about something exciting, how he always forgets to dot his i's, and on rare occasions, signs his name with a little heart shaped tail end.
But Daniel is also the reason why Jasper doesn't stand a chance. The teenager grew up into a handsome young man, if the pictures he sometimes included were of authenticity. He knows from the dreamy sighs and goofy grins on David's face that his childhood friend had more than just fallen for his pen pal. He's fallen for a pen pal who reciprocates his feelings.
It was easy for him to notice the overlooked. To notice that he never coughed when he talked about Daniel. That flowers never magically appeared in his trashcan when another letter arrived.
If they make it official, what then becomes of him? He thinks of petals slowly itching his throat, stems that poke and prod, leaves that scratch and tear from the inside, and he knows that above all, all he wants to do is brace himself.
He knows what's coming. He just doesn't want either of them to know. To feel guilty for the feelings neither he nor they can control. Even as it hurts him, he would rather die than let them know of his pining.
Jasper looks down to his hands, fingers already digging into his pants as he forces a smile.
"Yeah? What makes you say that?"
"Oh, you know, he's always saying all those things about how I should stand up for myself with Mr. Campbell, and that he would gladly stab someone who would dare cross me, or something like that!" David playfully nudges Jasper as he opens the letter. "Sometimes he reminds me of you!"
"Heh, well, I guess you just have good taste in friends who actually care about you." David smiles brightly at his comment, and he remembers a time when he was younger, when he used to hate how David would light up at the mention of Daniel. It used to spark jealousy in him when David would talk so fervently about his pen pal from the big city, back when Jasper wasn't aware he had a crush on David and was bitter that his best friend would rather talk about some kid who wasn't even here with them than play games with Jasper.
But now he's accepted it. Because David is happy. And Daniel, despite how he appears in the photographs, seems like a kind person.
All of this - the letters, the writing, the friendship - was all to ensure that David was happy. That's all he's ever wanted, wasn't it?
After all, all of this was his idea.
He remembers signing David up for the pen pal exchange, hoping to find the boy another friend when David had successfully managed to push everyone but Jasper away. David had given Jasper quite the earful back then, but he knew that David was secretly grateful that Jasper did that for him.
He remembers David receiving a package from his pen pal, the box containing a brand new honey colored bear.
The first half of the process.
A note was contained with the teddy bear, childish scrawl that read: "i hope you like him as much as i do. please name him good."
An unconventional messenger, he remembers. Most would just send a notebook filled with enchanted paper designed specifically for the pen pal system, or at the very least, a more suitable item such as a wooden skeleton of an animal that could travel fairly quickly.
Stuffed animals were notorious for taking long stretches of time to deliver messages. Not only that, they required constant upkeep to ensure that the stuffed animal didn't fall apart as they delivered letters through various types of weather. Magic, as useful as it was, could only protect so much of the messenger before natural wear and tear began to break the seams of the toy.
But.
David had been so enthralled by the stuffed bear. He hugged it tight to his chest, already happy and excited to continue the process. The first part - the gifting and accepting of the messenger - was already complete. What needed to happen next was for David to name the messenger, thus imprinting upon it his mark of shared ownership of the messenger with his pen pal.
Mr. Pinecone.
He remembers helping David carefully sew the name into the bear's back.
And boy, did it look awful. All Jasper could do was help guide David's shaky hands, but even with Jasper's help, the embroidery barely came out as legible. Still, he left his mark on the toy, leaving just the very last part of the process.
Imbuing it with magic.
David wasn't the best at magic - in fact, he was downright awful with it, failing to do simple tasks such as basic levitation or simply making something glow with his aura. But luckily, the final step didn't take a lot of work. He got to work carefully drawing out the sigil from the worksheet provided, and as soon as he finished, he placed Mr. Pinecone in the middle of it. All he had to do next was place his hands down onto the sigil, concentrate with the spores that floated around them, and wait.
He remembers the bear lifting in the air, glowing a cool, light blue that reminded Jasper of a clear, cloudless sky. A sign that David's pen pal had already imbued the bear with his feelings.
A sign that he was ready to accept David's friendship.
He remembers that magic relies on emotions to work. That it requires a strong belief in what one feels in order to manipulate the spores around them to do the user's bidding, borrowing energy from the nature around them to create something wholly their own.
It is why David is so bad at magic, he had noticed. His friend is always lying to himself, burying emotions he doesn't want to feel or acknowledge and instead trying to push forth a front that didn't connect with what he felt internally. It is why, whenever David attempted to try his hand at magic, it never really works in his favor.
But that time. When they were both children, and David allowed himself to be genuinely happy, genuinely excited to make a new friend - that was one of the few times that Jasper had seen David successfully complete a spell.
The bear had glowed with a dark green aura, looking like the newly grown leaves of the trees that lined their community, before it mixed and mingled with the light blue and melded into a shade of sea foam that settled into the bear's fur and gently landed him on the ground.
For a moment, the bear did nothing.
Then, the bear sat up, swung his head from one side to another, before looking at David and reaching a paw out to him.
And that was how David met Daniel, through years and years of letters being delivered by the very first gift that Daniel ever bestowed to David.
It was the greatest thing he could have done for David. And quite possibly, the worst thing he's ever done to himself.
He sighs, ignoring how the bear studies him with his black, unblinking eyes. Instead, he watches David read Daniel's newest letter with an unabashed glee that is followed up with a giggle.
"So? What's Daniel up to now?"
"Oh, he's going on about his church activities again! He's recently begun initiating a new program at his church. A soup kitchen! Gosh, he's so kind..."
"Even though he said countless times that he'd literally stab anyone who'd hurt you?"
"And protective!" David hides his face behind the letter and giggles. "I'd give anything to meet him one day."
"Yeah." Jasper leans his head back against the couch's back and closes his eyes. "It'd be nice to actually meet him face to face, especially since you've both managed to keep in touch since we were kids. That's no easy feat. I'm surprised you guys haven't met up yet."
"Oh. Well. You know..."
"Yeah." He sighs sympathetically and reaches a hand out to gently pat David's shoulder. "He doesn't want you to come to his community."
"...I wish he'd tell me why."
"Maybe it's like, a compound or something."
"Jasper!" He feels David shove him lightly, and he grins, cracking an eye open to look at the man. "You know that's not true."
"What if it is? What if he's part of some cult?"
"First of all, cults don't exist. Those are only in scary movies and you know it! Just things from the past that don't exist anymore."
"But they could still exist~" He waggles his fingers at David, laughing as the ginger huffs and slaps his fingers away. "I'm kidding. Maybe he's part of some strict coven and he doesn't want you to be drawn in or something."
"Mmm, but he said he isn't a witch. More like... a wizard? Those are the kind that do research, right?"
"Oh, maybe he's a warlock." A scandalized gasp. "Maybe he's got some kind of magical sugar daddy and he's embarrassed you'll meet his patron god or something-"
"JASPER!" A well-aimed punch connects with his arm, and Jasper breaks into a fit of giggles. "That's DEFINITELY not- well." David pauses and frowns, clearly deep in thought, which only sends Jasper into hysterics. As he watches his best friend slowly connect the dots, David's eyes grow large with realization. "...you don't think."
"Oh... I think." Jasper catches his breath and taps his head. "I think your crush has a magical sugar daddy that you haven't looked up yet."
"No."
"Yes." Jasper pulls out his phone and taps in "Xemüg", pulling up a page of the eldritch being. "You, my dumb, beautiful friend, are crushing on a warlock."
"...oh my god his dedication to his church makes so much sense now."
"You JUST figured that out?"
"Shut up!" David pushes him off the couch, and Jasper resumes his fit of hysterics as he watches David's face grow red with embarrassment. "Daniel CAN'T be a warlock! He's too nice to be a warlock!"
"Haha, dude, don't worry, I'm kidding. And it's not like all warlocks are bad people." He sits up, wiping his tears away as David helps him back onto the couch. "But I'm sure he has his reasons. Maybe he's planning on surprising you and doesn't want you to come over yet."
"But... it's been fourteen years. You'd think he would have wanted me to come over by now, right?"
"Maybe." Jasper wraps an arm around David and squeezes, letting David lean against him for comfort. "Or maybe he wants to come visit you instead. He always did say that he didn't like the city much. Maybe he just doesn't want you to come to some seedy part of the city."
"I wouldn't mind." He settles into Jasper's side, and Jasper ignores the warmth that blossoms in his chest as David rests his head on his shoulder. "I wouldn't mind visiting him even if it is the worst neighborhood in the world."
"Hmm." Jasper hums thoughtfully, watching as Mr. Pinecone lays across both their laps. "But it sounds like he minds. He does seem protective of you. Not that I blame him." He rests his head on David's, indulging for just a moment. "You are pretty dense to danger."
"I'm not naive."
"I never said that." He resists the urge to kiss the top of David's head. "I just said that you're dense to danger. Like, even if someone is super shady and whack, you'd ignore all of that in favor of looking for just the good parts of them." He settles instead for pressing his cheek against David's head instead. "Admirable, but pretty stupid in the wrong setting."
"I guess."
They sit in comfortable silence, and for a moment, Jasper can pretend that maybe, just maybe, he has a chance with David. That with Daniel being so far away, maybe he'll give up on his crush and realize that Jasper is right here for him. He closes his eyes, feeling his chest squeeze as David relaxes against him, and he can't help but feel that this.
This is right.
It feels right.
And he doesn't want it to end.
The minutes tick by, and Jasper considers, just for a moment, to let his lips brush the top of David's head. He's right there, after all.
It couldn't hurt. He could pass it off as him dozing off and accidentally burying his face in David's hair. And oh, does dozing off with David practically snuggled into his side sound lovely too.
He wants this. He wants David to stay with him like this. It doesn't have to be much. A single kiss. Fingers intertwined together.
A moment to exchange "I love you"'s like they were nothing but the air they breathed.
He wants to tell him that he loves him.
He wants David to know just how precious he is to Jasper.
But then. David straightens up abruptly, pushes off from Jasper, yawning with a stretch. And Jasper lets his arm fall back to his. Lets David get up from the couch with a grin, leaving Mr. Pinecone on Jasper's lap as he heads for the door.
"I'm going to start writing my reply. Can you take care of Mr. Pinecone for me until then?"
Jasper smiles, knowing full well that David won't notice how it doesn't reach his eyes.
"Of course. When haven't I?"
"Thanks! I'll be back later!"
David leaves Jasper feeling chilled to his core, the stuffed bear looking straight up at Jasper as his own eyes fail to leave the door that David exited from. The bear tugs on his shirt, drawing his attention away from the door to him instead. Jasper quietly picks up the bear and studies him for a moment before hugging him tightly. His tears drip onto the soft, worn fabric as the bear gently pats his back as best as he can.
"I'm in deep shit, aren't I?"
The bear doesn't respond.
Instead, he just continues to pat his back as Jasper sinks back into the couch, clutching the bear tightly.
As he clings to the bear desperately, he wonders for the umpteenth time if it really was a good idea to have signed David up for the pen pal exchange.
Something coils in his chest.
And suddenly he's not too sure he's actually ready to accept anything that may come.
"Smile for the cringe compilation!"
"Jasper, what-"
A flash and a giggle. David groans as Jasper waits for the photo to slowly spit out from his camera. His hand glows as the image quickly appears - David, mouth half full of chewed up sandwich, caught between confused blinks as his hand tries to shield himself from Jasper's camera.
"Oh this is absolutely my best shot of you yet."
"Jasper!" David jumps up from where he is sitting at his table, lunch abandoned as he leaps for the picture, Jasper gleefully levitating it well above David's head as the man tries to leap for it.
"Come on! You know Daniel loves these kinds of photos."
"Yes but I don't!"
Jasper pulls a pen out from his pocket and flicks it up at the photo. It quickly begins scribbling down words on the border as the brunette shrugs.
"I think they're pretty cute. The Davey At His Most Relaxed collection. My finest pieces of art."
"Jasp, you just like taking pictures of me at inopportune times."
"Just like Lilo!" The pen and photo float down lazily into his palm, and he grins as he shows the description off to David. "Davey in his Natural Habitat. Is that a ham sandwich? I want a bite."
"No." David sits back at the table and resumes eating, frowning at Jasper's puppy eyes. "This is your punishment for taking that photo."
"I bet Daniel would let me have a bite." He grins as David blushes, ignoring the twisting in his chest. "He likes me too, so he'd share."
"He'd only share because you're his supplier of bad photos."
"Speaking of supplier, did Mr. Pinecone leave yet?" Jasper looks around for the familiar bear, ignoring David's whines of protest. Usually the bear hangs around under David's desk, so Jasper wanders into David's room, peeking around for the little messenger. "Mr. Pinecone? I got something I need to put with Davey's letter!" A shuffling noise alerts him to the bear being out in the hallway, and he turns to find David already running past him, the agile man crouching down to scoop his messenger up in his arms. "Wh- hey!"
Bear in hand, David slides to a stop near the end of the hallway, kicking off the wall and attempting to hurtle past Jasper.
Jasper tackles his legs instead, tripping up David as he yelps and sends the bear flying. A teal aura surrounds the bear, and he lands easily on his feet as his stuffed arms brushes himself off. As the two men struggle on the floor, the permanent expression on Mr. Pinecone manages to radiate a kind of low-bar irritation as he watches them childishly wrestle.
"Mr. Pinecone!" David manages to crawl forward as Jasper crawls on top of him. "Go!"
"Mr. P, wait!" Jasper fishes out an envelope from his back pocket, sliding the newest photo inside and tossing the whole thing to the messenger before David has a chance to shake him off. "Put that with the letter!"
"No!"
"Run, Pinecone, run!" The bear slowly picks up the envelope and opens it, taking out the thin stack of pictures and pulling out a carefully sealed letter from his back. As he opens the letter and carefully puts the stack of photos inside, the two men howl at each other as the little messenger takes his sweet time. "Run like the wind, Mr. P!"
"NO!"
Mr. Pinecone pushes open his little door that's been cut into David's front door, waves goodbye, and shuts it behind him.
"Haha!" Jasper laughs triumphantly as David quickly rolls over with the intent to crush Jasper beneath him. "Oof, I win again!"
"Be quiet!" David huffs as he sits up, straddling Jasper's hips as he frowns.
"Just tell me to shut up, and maybe I'll be intimidated." He grins as he leans up to flick David's forehead. "Come on, I'll make it up to you."
"How many photos did you send to Daniel?"
"I dunno, like, ten?"
"TEN?"
"Yeah." Jasper laughs as David shoves him back onto the floor. "Ugh, can't help it that you're so photogenic!"
"I'm not! Oh hooey." A groan escapes David's lips as he covers his face. "Nothing you can do can make up for what you just sent."
"Wanna bet on it?" The brunette lightly taps at David's hands, watching fondly as his best friend peeks between his fingers. A habit that's never changed since they were kids. "Tell you what. Let's go visit the music shop. I'll haggle for whatever you want." Hands drop from David's face as a skeptical stare meets a cheeky grin.
"...you mean you'll bribe Gwen for a deal?"
"Isn't that just what haggling is?"
"That's not- jeez, maybe bartering, but who does that nowadays?"
"Me. Me and Gwen, between the two of us." His smile widens as he pushes himself up again, lightly tapping David's knee to get his attention. "But I can't do any of that if you don't get off of me." With a huff, David swings his body to the side and crawls off of Jasper to stand instead. Jasper pushes himself up and pretends to act surprised when David offers him his hand. "What, for me? After my war crimes?" David rolls his eyes and grins.
"Just take my hand, you goof."
He doesn't need to be told twice.
Jasper takes David's hand, fingers hesitating just a moment as he's pulled up, an instinct to try intertwining their fingers together like when they were children rearing its head as he quickly lets go. He shoves his hands into his pockets and grins, ignoring the heat that builds in his face as heads towards the coat rack. Pulling on his coat and scarf, he turns to see David grab a jacket from the nearby closet and slipping it on. David takes the beanie that remains on the rack without much prompting and slips it onto Jasper's head, carefully adjusting and tugging as he does so. Jasper huffs to hide his blush and swats away David's hands as he turns to the door.
"Geez, you don't have to do that. I can put my own beanie on." He quickly yanks the door open and walks out, David's footsteps following him as the door slams shut. With a quick click, the door locks by itself as they walk away from the quaint cottage.
"It's faster if I help!" David walks by Jasper's side, smiling as he zips up his own jacket. "I still think it's silly for you to be so bundled up. It's only fall."
"What can I say? I'm terrified of the cold." He pulls up his scarf to cover his mouth and nose in order to keep the cold further away.
"We've lived here our entire lives, you should be used to it by now." David walks closer to Jasper, and the brunette feels a bit warmer with his friend so close by. He pulls down the scarf to laugh, taking an end of it and offering it to David. Wordlessly, the ginger accepts and wraps it around his neck. Jasper walks closer just to let their arms brush against each other as the distance between them grows nonexistent.
"I dunno, Davey, there's something nice about being warm that the cold can't beat." David hums in response, and the two of them fall into a comfortable silence as the leaves crunch beneath their feet.
The trees rustle lightly as a breeze pushes through them, leaves falling around them as they continue down their path. Sunlight beams down through branches not yet bare, accentuating the lovely reds and oranges of the autumn season, and if Jasper squints hard enough, he can see the little spores that float all around them. He holds a hand open, feeling the soft tingle of contact that comes as he quietly gathers the spores around his hand. Focusing his aura through the spores, his hand glows a familiar violet shade as he takes a moment to stop the descent of the leaves to keep them levitating for just a moment.
A picture perfect moment.
"Davey." Jasper reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his camera. With a grin, he aims it at his childhood friend. "Smile!"
David halts in place and smiles, Jasper's scarf still wrapped loosely around his neck as the leaves gently float into place around him. The leaves gently brush against his cheek in just the right spot at just the right angle. They frame his face, bringing out the spring in David's eyes in a different way from how his hair blends in with the autumn that surrounds them, and Jasper forgets to breathe as he snaps the picture. Violet fades from his hand, the leaves now falling naturally around them. A breeze carries a few of them away to continue their journey down the path before Jasper had halted their progress. The camera spits out the picture into Jasper's waiting hand as he waits patiently for the photo to develop.
"Can I see?" David leans in close to him and rests his chin on Jasper's shoulder. Quickly, Jasper tugs down his beanie further to hide how his ears match the color of the leaves all around them.
"Yeah, just give it another second."
"You're not going to speed up this one?"
"Nah." They watch as the photo slowly develops, the leaves coming in first as they slowly appear around what would soon be David's image. "I kind of like the anticipation for pictures like these."
Sure enough, after a few minutes, David's smiling visage comes out crisp and bright on the photo, and Jasper takes the moment to carefully count all the freckles on his face, satisfied that the camera caught the moment exactly as he intended with no detail out of place or forgotten.
"Wow..." David takes the picture from Jasper and holds it up. "Maybe you should be a professional. Specialize in something."
"I dunno." He shrugs, careful not to jostle David too much. "I mean, it's rad being paid for my pictures, not gonna lie, but the free in freelancing is pretty important to me. Being able to do what I want, when I want for my pictures is what makes them turn out so good." He slips the camera back into his back pocket, and David hands the photo back, watching as it also disappears with the camera.
"But how are you going to be known as a photographer?"
"There's plenty of well-known freelancers, Davey." He fights the urge to wrap an arm around David's shoulders and instead nudges them both forward, and they both continue through the trees as the town square comes into sight.
"Name one."
"Me."
"Uh huh. Sure." Feet step off the dirt path and onto cobblestone, and the pair are greeted by the hustle and bustle of their hometown as people rush by, groceries hovering in the air as mothers focus on holding the hands of their children, mages of all sorts stopping to browse collections of books, and a few street performers attempt to wow the small crowds that have gathered around them. A street performer juggling what looks like balls of energy that change mid-toss into different elements - a ball of fire, an orb of water, a literal snowball, a sphere of electric light - catches Jasper's attention, but David is already tugging him towards a familiar shop - Louis' Shop for The New and The Used. The chimes above the door jingle playfully as the pair entire the shop, David's hand wrapped tightly around Jasper's wrist.
A precaution in case Jasper tries to be slick and run away from buying something expensive. Not that he hasn't tried that before. Mostly because he's been unsuccessful.
But that's besides the point.
A tired, aggravated woman sits behind a counter, and when she sees the two of them wave to her, she releases a deep, guttural groan of displeasure before smacking her head down on the counter top, the cash register next to her jangling lightly as the force of her forehead jostles it.
"What the hell do you two want now."
"Aww, come on, Gwen!" David practically skips over to her with Jasper close behind. He pats her head lightly as she looks up with a frown. "We're not here JUST to visit this time!"
"Yeah, we're actually going to buy something. Or at least," he pulls out his wallet reluctantly, "I am."
"Uh huh." Gwen's eyes flick down to his jeans and frowns. "You're wearing your magic boy pants again."
"I'm always wearing my magic boy pants. Also shut up. Don't call them that. They're useful!"
"I want a pair."
"Too bad. These were hard to come by and were worth the effort." David turns to give him a raised eyebrow, before unraveling the scarf to keep from choking Jasper by accident.
"He got them as a gift from Daniel."
"Davey!"
"Figures. There's no way you'd have the money for Bottomless Jeans."
"Assless Chaps."
"Commando Boxers."
"You guys are the worst." David shakes his head and wanders away quickly to avoid whatever weird naming competition they started.
"Whatever, sunshine." She snorts as she straightens up, a wry smile on her face as she waves about the shop. "So what are you swindling me out of this time?"
"It's not swindling. It's an exchange of goods." Jasper puts his wallet down and reaches into his back pocket, knowing full well that Gwen's attention is completely on him. David, on the other hand, is already browsing a selection of guitars. He wonders briefly if David's heart is set on something magical or not.
Dumb question, really.
There's a reason why they're best friends.
They both like things that are retro.
Jasper pulls out an envelope and opens it to shuffle through the pictures, double checking to make sure he's got the right ones. Gwen tries to peek over the counter, but he holds the pictures close to his chest and waggles a finger playfully.
"Ah ah ah. Unlike your stuff, my merchandise isn't for wandering eyes." He pauses briefly, before giving Gwen a wide grin. "Well. Except for certain kinds of eyes."
"Shut up." Gwen blushes and shoves his shoulder, ignoring his chortling as he taps the photos against the counter. "Not like I have a choice. She doesn't leave her dumb cottage enough to actually come visit me. And I'm stuck here manning this shop until I have enough money to finish my degree. And..." She pokes the middle of Jasper's chest, now making it her turn to grin like an asshole. "I don't have some fourteen year old messenger running around delivering messages to my long distance boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend." Jasper huffs and looks away, frowning as he catches sight of David picking up a guitar and lightly strumming it. "He's more like David's, really."
"Really." She points at his jeans with a smirk on her face as he glares at her. "I don't think friends just buy each other expensive gifts for no reason."
"It was for a reason! David told him it was my birthday in a letter somewhere, and he sent them over with his letter. I felt really bad for Mr. P. I have no idea how he managed to carry an entire parcel like that."
"Probably in the same way your jeans work, dumbass. He's a magic teddy bear." Gwen rolls her eyes and holds her hand out. "Whatever, just let me see the pics."
"What's the magic word?"
"Shitlord."
"Close enough." He hands her the pictures, watching as she goes through the stack slowly, her eyes softening as she reads the messages adorning the borders. "You even got her to personalize them?"
"Didn't have to ask, she already had her pen out." He leans over the counter to pick through the pictures and pulls one out. On it, a blonde woman dressed in a lab coat sits at a desk covered in scrolls. A pen is held lazily between her fingers as she gazes off into the distance, a clever smirk playing on her perfectly painted pink lips as tendrils of smoke seem to coil around her. Illuminating her figure is the sun, pleasantly peaking through the window beside her as the flowers that line her sill offer up the sparkling spores that almost make the air around her sparkle.
Beneath the picture, in neat and perfectly tailored cursive, a message is written in pink ink.
"Always on my mind, beautiful."
"God, she's..." A soft sigh escapes Gwen as she practically melts onto the counter. "...Do you know when she's free this week?"
"Dunno." He looks at his nails, the heat from Gwen's quickly returning glare making him grin. "I think that kind of information warrants an additional discount."
"Fuck you."
"Sorry, I'm gay."
"Uuuuuuuuuugh. DAVID!" Gwen turns her attention to the other customer in the shop, making the ginger yelp and fumble with the guitar he was playing with. "Hurry up and decide! Jasper's starting to piss me off!" David's green eyes look between Gwen's irritated face and Jasper's clearly innocent little smile and tries to use the guitar as a wall between him and his friends.
"What... what did Jasper do this time?"
"I told her I was gay." He shrugs and shakes his head, ignoring Gwen's indignant squawk. "She's homophobic, dude."
"But... she has a girlfriend."
"Homophobic to me, specifically." He sniffles and pretends to wipe a tear away. "Press F in the chat for Jasper."
"That meme is over 50 years old." Gwen grits her teeth and waves David over furiously. "Now get over here so that I can get my money and kick you assholes out." The chimes jingle again, and someone walks in behind Jasper. Gwen ignores her friend and puts on a customer welcoming smile. "Welcome! Is there anything you're looking for?"
"Oh, just browsin', really." A soft, sweet voice with a particular drawl speaks up. Jasper turns just enough to see a kind, pale looking woman smile back at Gwen with a different kind of tired hiding behind her eyes. He frowns as he takes in her otherwise calm countenance, a mismatch from lips that look licked wet, despite the healing cracks that indicate otherwise. Her hair is done up in a messy bun, stray hairs giving away the fact that the bun was slapped together rather than purposefully made messy. "Unless, you wouldn't happen to have harmonicas, do you?" Jasper looks to Gwen, her smile almost faltering as she looks the woman up and down.
"Ah, yes, we do! If you go towards the back there, you'll find that we have a small selection of them."
"Thank you kindly." She gives Gwen a little nod before walking away, a handkerchief clutched tightly in her hands. Both of them watch her go to the back of the store as David approaches them, a smile on his face as he continues holding his guitar of choice.
"What a nice lady! I wonder if she can play the harmonica."
"Uh, yeah." Jasper exchanges a look with Gwen and grins easily for David. "So what did you find?"
"A classical guitar!" He holds it up for Gwen to take, and she inspects it before setting it down.
"Literally classical. This one hasn't been charmed or glamoured in the slightest. It's pretty old too. I'd hazard a guess and say that this is one of our used instruments." Gwen plucks a few strings, and the musical notes play as simply as the leaves that fall outside. "You don't want something more modern? We have guitars charmed to display the musical notes into the air as you play, or even ones that can change their sound for other instruments."
"Not really, no." David rests his hand on the neck of the old guitar, smiling as he feels the metal strings on it. "Even without gimmicks, this one has a charm all on its own. It feels well-loved, and I like the sound it produces already."
"Hmm..." Gwen hums thoughtfully and catches sight of Jasper's face. She grins, smug and knowing, as she turns her attention back to David. "Alright, well, since it's used, old, and technically a relic, I'd say... maybe sixty bucks sounds about right.
Jasper grunts.
"What? I'd say it's a fair deal." Gwen snickers as Jasper picks his wallet back up and blanches when he opens it.
"Is it... too much?" David looks to Jasper nervously, so Jasper laughs and waves his concerns away.
"Nah it's... just that my wallet isn't as bottomless as my back pocket."
"If it's too much, I can-"
"Nah, don't sweat it! Just," he chuckles and takes out whatever cash he has in there, carefully counting out the bills before putting them in Gwen's hand, her eyes widening as he doesn't bother using the pictures as a bargaining chip, "don't be surprised if I come over to your place for dinner for the next two weeks."
"Oh, um, okay? You do that anyway-"
"And lunch. And breakfast."
"...please get a job that has a regular paycheck."
"I am just... a hungry artist. I cannot change this."
"Again, old meme. Let those die." Gwen doesn't look up as she counts the bills and puts the money away in the register. With a pat on the guitar body, she hands it to David, a small smile on her face. "There you go, beanpole. A brand-new old guitar, just for you."
"Thanks, Gwen! I'll make sure to-"
Violent coughing catches their attention.
"Shit, shit-!" Gwen begins to lift a panel from her counter, but Jasper is already racing to the back of the shop, to where a young woman is kneeling on the ground, shoulders hunched and shaking as she struggles for air.
"Miss!" Skidding to his knees, he comes to a stop next to her and gently places his hand to the small of her back, patting gently to help ease her through the process. Despite her hands attempting to cover her mouth, he can see petals peeking through the cracks of her fingers. With a gag and a choke, she grips something and pulls harshly. A sharp intake of breath follows the flowers now finally freed from her throat.
In her fist are white blossoms, with five almost heart-shaped petals each that meet in a yellow center. A gasp escapes him as he realizes that the flowers are fully grown, with stems and leaves still attached to the heads of the flowers.
He had a feeling that she was a sufferer of hanahaki, but he didn't realize how late stage it was.
"Oh... dear me." The woman next to him laughs weakly before coughing into her handkerchief. When she pulls it away from her, specks of bright red blood cover it in addition to the rustier stains that dotted it. "I thought I could hold it in just a mite longer."
"Miss, are you... okay?"
"Hmm." She tries to push herself up slowly, only to collapse back onto her knees. "No, afraid not." A laugh escapes her, lighthearted in ways it has no right to be. A hand reaches down to her, and they both look up to see David standing over them, his eyes working a mile a minute as he looks at the flowers held tightly in her hand. Regardless, he smiles kindly and acts as though she has merely fallen.
"Would you like some help?"
"Oh, thank you." She takes his hand, and David carefully pulls her up as Jasper keeps a steady hand on her back, watching her carefully in case she begins to sway. Surprisingly, she keeps to her feet easily and makes no sign of losing her balance as she releases David's hand to continue perusing the harmonicas. David and Jasper exchange looks as she picks one out with a smile. Footsteps behind them announce Gwen's appearance, and the woman pants as she looks over the stranger.
"Ma'am, are you alright? Do we need to take you to a doctor or-?"
"Oh, don't worry about little ol' me." She waves off their concerns and holds up the harmonica to Gwen's face. "This is a mighty fine beauty. I just need to pay at the cashier, right?"
"Uh... yes." The group parts to let the woman walk to the counter, Gwen just a step behind her. They all watch her cautiously as Gwen returns to her spot behind the counter, ringing up the woman's total and watching as she pays for the harmonica as though this were a normal visit. A weak cough manages to worm its way out past her lips, but she quickly covers her mouth with her handkerchief and forces the cough to a stop with a clearing of her throat. "Ma'am-"
"This is nothin', I'm alright." The flowers are quickly stuffed into one pocket as the harmonica and handkerchief disappear into another. She smiles sweetly to the lot of them and nods. "I hope y'all have a pleasant day now." Before any of them can stop her, the woman walks out of the shop, chimes jingly softly as the door closes.
"...I'm going after her." Jasper turns towards the door, stopped only by David's hand grabbing his elbow.
"I'm coming with. She looked really... sick." Jasper cranes his neck to look at David, taking in his pale face, the nervousness set in his shoulders, and the overwhelming concern and worry. But more importantly, David looks as though he is sick to his stomach. Frowning, Jasper shakes his head and gently removes his friend's hand from his elbow.
"Nah, don't sweat it, duderino. I got this." He flashes a grin and pulls a business card out from his back pocket.
"Jennifer Spellman: Professional Witch, Herbalist, Potion Maker, and Doctor-in-Training. Please call ahead for a consultation and examination."
A number flashes periodically as the font sparkles like a bad computer graphic. Gwen groans as she stares at the pink card.
"Remind me again why she allowed you of all people to design her card."
"Because she trusts me. A bad call, to be honest."
"I would have gone with vines that crawled along the edges." David takes the card from Jasper and turns it about between two fingers. "But can I keep this? Just in case."
"Uh, sure." He taps the counter and Gwen reaches down to pull another one out. "Good thing Gwen has an infinite stash."
"Right, anyway," she nods to the door, "I think someone could use her help."
He doesn't respond, merely giving them both a two fingered salute as he rushes out the door. At first, he worries that he's already lost the woman as he looks down the streets and around the town square. But then he catches sight of a familiar messy bun off to the distance, the woman walking away from the square and into a park that David loves to frequent. He quickens his pace, scarf pulled up over his nose to protect against the brisk cold. It doesn't take him long to catch up - she sits herself down on a nearby bench and twirls her harmonica between her hands with a soft hum. Without even looking up, she smiles again, harmonica stilling in her grip.
"Kind of you to be worried."
"Sorry, we just... the flowers looked late stage, and we were worried. Hanahaki can get pretty serious if you don't get help." He sits down and feels Jen's card in his pocket, edges pressed into his palm. "We know someone who can help though, maybe-"
"I don't need help." Despite cutting him off so abruptly, there's no edge to her words. "I know it looks worryin', but I'm fine. I'll get over this soon enough."
"I don't know. I mean..." He points to the handkerchief peeking from her pocket. "That's blood on there, right?"
"Suppose so. But that's only to be expected." She sets the harmonica down in her lap and sighs, looking up at the clear, autumn sky as a breeze gently blows their bangs to the side. "I take it you won't be leavin' me alone regardless though, right?"
Wordlessly, he takes the card out and hands it to her, a soft chuckle escaping her as she looks over the godawful design.
"Oh dear."
"Don't blame Jennifer. The card was my doing."
"All that's missin' is the rotating text that zooms in n' out."
"I wanted to do that, but Jen was already annoyed when I gave her this version. So I kept it out of the final design."
"Jen, huh?" She looks Jasper as she puts it into her pocket with the flowers. "A nickname?"
"Yeah, we uh, met in college. Just friends though. But she's a genuinely good witch! And that's not the bias talking either."
"I'll take your word for it." She coughs again, this one a bit stronger before she clears her throat. Jasper watches her carefully, from how she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, the way her fingers clench at her simple winter dress, gray in color and drained of life. She catches him staring and smiles, making him blush in embarrassment.
"...Sorry. Didn't mean to stare."
"That's alright. I get plenty o' stares nowadays." She levels him with a curious stare of her own, head tilted to the side as she watches him tug on his beanie. "Normally, people would be gone by now, after handing me a card for a witch and wishing me well. Why are you still here?"
"Huh?" Why is he still here? Sitting on a bench next to someone who looks ready to die. "Oh, I uh..."
"You're curious? About how it feels to have hanahaki?" He blanches at her comment and sputters incoherently. She laughs goodnaturedly, hand waving in the air as she does so. "Don't worry about it, I get that kind o' sentiment all the time." She hums, her cool, light green eyes focusing on his own blues. "Mostly from people who think they might have it too."
"...might?" He tugs at his scarf, laughing nervously. "I, um. No that's- not me. And anyway, it's like, super whack of me to just ask. Like, that's territory I should step off of."
But her eyes don't leave him.
Instead, she gently places her hand on his and ceases the scarf tugging.
"It's alright." She pats his hand, and her eyes glow with none of the exhaustion from her affliction. "I get it. And it ain't none of my business but, there's somebody, isn't there? And you're just… tryin' to prepare for the worst?"
He gulps. Nods. Looks away and pulls the scarf up higher.
"Oh, sweetheart." The endearment slips out from her lips, but it's more comforting than anything else it could imply. "I'm sorry."
"It's nothing." He stuffs his hands into his pockets. "I mean I… it's not like my feelings will change. I just don't want him to know. Or, them, really."
"Them?"
"Yeah. Two of my friends." He smiles gently, before frowning. "I'm pretty sure they love each other, and, I don't want to get in the way of that. I don't want them to know that I…" His hand squeezes his scarf, neck hiding in the fabric. "It's better this way, I think. So I just, I need to prepare myself for the inevitable."
"You don't have it yet?"
"No, not yet. But it's gotta be coming soon. I know it's unrequited, but some part of me is still… hoping? I guess." He laughs softly. "Maybe I'm just a late bloomer. Or it's a weird, new strain."
"Maybe." A hum. "My name's Clementine, by the way." She offers him her hand to him. "If you need anyone to talk to, I'll be here pretty often."
He takes her hand and gives it a hesitant shake. Despite how sickly she looks, Clementine's grip is a lot firmer than his own.
"Jasper." His phone vibrates against his leg, and he pulls it out to see a text from David.
"Everything okay?"
He shoots off a quick response before getting up, nodding to Clementine as she remains seated. "Sorry, I uh, I gotta jet."
"No worries! See ya, Jasper."
"Bye, Clementine." He walks off, ready to head home when he hears her voice being carried down with the wind.
"I wish you all the best."
A sizzle. A crack. And then a pop.
"Goddammit!"
Then gloves slapping a wooden table.
Jasper chuckles as he sits in a chair, spinning in it idly as he watches his lab coat adorned friend tear her safety goggles off her head, carefully done up hair now a mess as she growls at a beaker in front of her.
"Maybe it was a snap that it needed instead of a sizzle."
"Maybe you need to make better dumb jokes." The blonde witch grumbles as she flips through a thick manuscript, eyes squinting in annoyance before slapping the book shut. "Ugh, you'd think that oldass farts would know how to draw if they were making a potions manual."
"You gotta give them more credit, bromide." The blonde squints at him before ignoring his pun. He giggles instead and spins harder in her chair. "At least they drew the references to begin with."
"Hmm..." The witch looks up at him, crystals jangling against each other as they hang around her neck, and she pouts with award-winning crocodile tears. "Jazzy," she purrs, "would you be a doll and snap some pics of flowers for me?"
"I dunno, Jenny." He stops mid spin to put his elbows up on her table. "If I was straight, maybe you could have won me over with those puppy dog eyes."
"But..." She twirls a bit of her hair, the tears already disappearing from her eyes as she smirks instead. Now this is something he is more familiar with. And it makes him sweat. "Would you say no to a little bit of money?"
"...how much?"
"$200."
"Jesus Christ." His fingers comb through his hair as he tries to figure out just what the fuck kind of plant is worth $200. "Is this like, some kind of rare plant that's hard to find online? Or is the drawing really that shitty?"
"Why don't you take a look?" She smiles sweetly as she opens the book for him. A perfectly painted and manicured finger points out the picture. Jasper only takes one look before he lets out a loud laugh, quickly turning his laugh into a cough to mask it.
"That's um. Mhm." He clears his throat, hand reaching up to try and hide a grin as he looks at what appears to be a child's doodle of a four-petaled flower. "Wonderful artistry, I must say."
"Jazzy, I'm sure you can use your big brain to figure out what kind of flower this is. I mean, I would, but I have appointments to wait for. Here, could you just snap a quick pic and-?"
"Got it." Jasper already has his phone out as he types in the vague description of "four-petaled flower". He scrolls idly through the image and leans over to show Jen his screen. "Any of these look like a dead ringer?"
"Hmmm." She flicks through the images before smiling as she taps on the image of a small white flower. "This might be it. Thanks, Jazzy."
He holds out his hand. "Money?"
"Fat chance."
"I helped you find it!"
"Yeah, with Google." She sticks her tongue out playfully, Jasper responding in kind. "But I can treat you to a quick drink instead."
"Don't you have appointments to meet or whatever?"
"Yes, in..." Jen pulls up a sleeve, an ornate watch adorning her wrist. Grinning, she moves the failed concoction to an empty spot on her shelves only to grab two more clean, empty flasks. "Twenty-four hours."
"Twenty-four hours?!" He yells in shock, nearly tumbling out of the chair as she laughs at him. "I thought you said you were busy!"
"And I thought you knew me by now." Jen smirks as she pulls down various bottles of liquids in them. She barely even reads off the labels and already starts pouring them into the flasks. "Now, remind me again, did you like your drinks sweet? Bitter? A little bit hoppy?"
"Just fuck me up." He plops back in his seat, hand reaching up to rub his eyes as he groans. "You were seriously going to just send me out there to snap pics of flowers when you could have googled it yourself?"
"Not like you use your brain for anything else, sweetums." She swirls a mixture around in a beaker, colors changing from red to orange to yellow. With a tap on the glass, a pink hue gathers around her hand and engulfs the flask. The mixture foams and bubbles as she ages the drink quickly. Despite being a scientist of sorts, she sticks her nose right over it and takes a big whiff of the concoction before handing it off to Jasper with a smile. "There you go. One free drink, fresh and on the house."
"Thanks," he grumbles, flask opening already pressed up to his lips as he chugs. Flavor washes over his tongue as quickly as it disappears, a bitter taste with a touch of sweetness to it. He's never had this one before - Jen must be experimenting again.
"Jesus, slow down."
"Never. You're not Gwen, you can't tell me what's good or bad drinking habits." He wags a finger at her, his flask already empty as he places it back on the table. "Which reminds me - tell that hypocrite to lay off, man. If anyone could become an alcoholic, it's her. And you, as fucking amazing as it is that you can literally brew whatever drink you wanted in your lab, please don't encourage her habits."
"I'm not." Jen takes a quick swig from her beaker and sets it down. "I make it a point not to indulge her when she's... having a bad time."
"Mhm." He leans forward, trying to snatch Jen's drink only to have her bat his hand away. Whining, he pouts and lays his head on the table. "Aww, come on, Jen. You owe me for almost sending me on a goose chase just for the laughs."
"But you didn't, so you only get the one drink! And besides, I'm sure your boyfriend will be upset if he sees you drunk this early in the day."
"Davey's not my boyfriend."
"Oh?" A raised eyebrow. "You two sure act like it."
"We're not." He brings his arms up and rests them on the table, his head now cushioned on them. "It's pretty obvious that he only sees me as a friend."
"As a- Jasper, what the hell are you talking about?" Real, true bewilderment actually slips into her voice, and he looks up to see it expressed on her face as well. Oh that's a new one. "I'm pretty sure he likes you."
"Yeah, he likes me. That's the keyword there." A mirthless chuckle passes from his lips as Jen's eyebrows furrowed together. "Besides, we all know who his real crush is. And it's not me. I don't need anymore of these boyfriend jokes, so like, could you and Gwen stop?"
"Jasper."
"Jennifer."
"Let me see your throat." She reaches out, hands aglow with purpose. Wordlessly, he leans forward. The cool touch of her hands makes him shudder, but the gentleness that follows lets him relax just a bit. Her fingers press and feel into his throat as Jen's eyes focus with a soft glow to them. A sigh leaves her lips as she pulls back, hands turning back to normal as she instead begins to play with her hair instead. "No signs of hanahaki. Are you sure it's not reciprocated?"
"Positive." His fingers massage the places she touched. The magical traces linger like a weird itch that he needs to rub away. "If David had to choose between me or Daniel, he would pick Daniel."
"The pen pal, right?"
"Yup. That's still going strong. Davey sent a new letter like, last week. Practically a long distance romance. They haven't said if they're official though. I bet it'll only be a matter of time before they do." He reaches for Jen's drink with a new purpose. She doesn't stop him, instead watching as he takes a big gulp and giving it back. "And it'll only be a matter of time before I develop that disease, so expect a visit from me eventually. Like, an actual medical one."
"Jasper." An authoritative tone overtakes her normally sultry voice. The change in tone is enough to get him to actually look her in the eyes as she frowns. "You should tell him. Get it over with."
He grins. Taps his fingers against the table and looks away. Combs his fingers through his hair and ignores the way she huffs in irritation.
"I can't."
"And why not?"
"Because it'll hurt him." God he wishes he had his scarf on now. His fingers need something to mess with. "I tell him I love him, and then his face will crumple. He'll make a little 'oh' sound, and then he'll start crying and apologizing like the whole thing is his fault. Which is whack, because it's not."
"He has a right to know. Keeping it to yourself isn't going to help him or you. You need to tell him."
He closes his eyes, remembering when some random kid came up to David and confessed to him when they were in high school, and the look on his face when he realized that this random kid, with chapped lips and a pale complexion, eyes already tired and unsurprised, was expecting to be turned down.
He remembers how that kid smiled and told David, thank you, only to collapse in David's arms to cough violently as the hanahaki was trying to make its last attack on them. The kid was taken to the hospital for recovery, and David was forbidden from seeing them.
Made sense, of course.
Didn't do David any good.
He remembers David sobbing for a good week, blaming himself for feelings he couldn't control, that he accidentally hurt someone so badly that they had to go to the hospital. Jasper visited the kid himself, when visitors were finally allowed. He handed them David's card, and they smiled sadly as they pushed it away from them. It wasn't David's fault, they had said with eyes wanting nothing than to forget the entire incident.
If only David could have heard those words himself.
But the kid was still recovering, and anything that could make them feel an ounce of affection for David could lead to the hanahaki returning.
So the kid never got the chance to tell him before he and David graduated.
He clenches his fists, more than aware that Jen is watching him carefully. Through teeth gritted together, he simply says, "I can't."
David was pale when he saw Clementine that day at Gwen's shop.
Only he knew the reason why.
He could never, ever put David through that again.
Even if it kills him.
He'll keep it a secret, until the bitter end.
"You're making this impossibly difficult."
"I know." There's no venom in his voice. He knows she means well. They're friends, and friends want the other to live. But this?
This is different.
He'll carry the burden for as long as it takes. He can ask Clementine for tips when the time comes, and he'll hold on until the last moment. Move to another town when it gets worse.
Fade away.
It sounds like a good plan.
And David will still have Daniel.
He can be happy with Daniel.
That's all that really matters in the end.
Really.
"You're an idiot."
"Yeah."
"You're smarter than this."
"Am I really?"
"Don't try to dodge this." Jen stands up to flick his forehead. He whines, but she ignores it in favor of frowning. "I've seen enough cases where people with the same mindset as you end up dying, and then their friends and family come to me, asking why I couldn't do anything? Why I couldn't convince them to do something? Anything?" She grabs his chin and forces him to look at her, her eyes a shade lighter than his own. "I don't want David coming in here asking me the same questions in tears, Jasper."
He gulps. Squeezes his eyes shut. And levels her stare with one of his own, just as intense, just as stubborn.
"I'll decide what I do."
"You're being a fucking coward."
"Then I'll stand by being a coward." He pulls his chin free from her grasp and sits up straight, daring her to say anything else. Jen's eyes search his face before she relents with a growl. Disappointment sets in her shoulders as she turns to her cabinets. The doors bang open as she loudly begins going through her supplies. Bottles and tins clang loudly against each other as she continues to search angrily. Finally, she emerges with a corked bottle, slamming it in front of Jasper.
"If you start developing hanahaki, take this. It'll dissolve the petals and flower heads so that the pain won't be excruciating, and you'll cough less." He picks up the bottle, contents swishing about innocently as he holds it up to the light. The mixture is light enough that he can see his fingers on the other side of the bottle, and the red tint makes him wonder for a moment.
"Is this flavored?"
"Cherry." She chugs her drink in the same fashion as Jasper did prior.
"Gross."
"It's because I love you." The sarcasm drips off her tongue easily, and he almost smiles if it weren't for the glare she levels him with.
"Thanks."
"Do not fucking thank me. If you develop any symptoms in the slightest, I want you to come here. I don't care what it takes. If I have to tell everyone, I will. Gwen might not have her license yet, but I'm sure she'll be more than happy to double team you with me." Her hand glows and a familiar pen begins scribbling away on a large label before the label itself slaps onto the bottle. He looks down at it, reading it as Jen speaks. "For stage one symptoms, take only one tablespoon. Stage two symptoms, two and a half tablespoons. Stage three or four, seek a witch or doctor immediately."
"You could have just told me, I would have remembered.
"Oh, I know." She grins sharply, perfectly manicured nails tapping against her chin as she points at the label. "That's there so that anyone who sees you drinking that will know you're being a stupid self-inflicted martyr."
"Gee, thanks."
"Anything for you, sweetums." She rolls her sleeve and checks the time, frowning as the crystals around her neck begin to float. "Would you look at that, I just remembered something."
"You're just trying to get rid of me."
"That too." A pearly white grin. "But there's a house call I'm going to take. I was going to visit tomorrow, but since you're being a little shit who won't listen to me, I'd rather go visit someone else who actually will."
"You wound me."
"Not as much as you'll wound everyone else." The crystals begin to glow as she waves a hand in the air. A carpet bag comes zooming to her call. It opens as a wave of items - bundles of dried herbs, corked bottles of solutions, tins of ingredients, a portable bunsen burner, empty beakers and vials, three thick tomes, and blank sheets - begin to pile themselves inside. As the bag continues to fill up, she checks herself in the mirror, pulling her ponytail tight and fluffing it up, lipstick reapplied and blush touched up. Once she's confirmed she looks as beautiful as ever, she turns on her heels and picks up the carpet bag. She casts a simple glamour over it and the drab design looks much more designer and a lot more pink. With another wave of her hand, Jasper's scarf and beanie fly to him as he stumbles after Jen. The bottle is quickly stowed away in his back pocket without much of a second glance.
She locks her cottage behind her once Jasper leaves, a pad of paper pulled from her lab coat as she quickly scribbles down a sigil with practiced ease. As she tears the sheet from the pad, Jasper takes a step back as she turns to him.
"Hey."
"Yeah?"
She rubs her fingers together quickly, a spark igniting between them as her hand glows. The spark lights the flash paper up in seconds while the other is held up to display her middle finger.
"Fuck you."
"Oh come on."
"Bye!" With a grin, Jen disappears in a flash of bright light in a very effective maneuver to leave Jasper behind. He grumbles to himself as his feet kick at the dirt beneath him.
Well.
At the very least, he can go home and hide the bottle somewhere where David can never find it.
He takes the bottle out again and looks at its contents. Maybe the red color is more than just to indicate the flavor of the medicine.
It weighs heavy in his hand.
With a frown, he slides back into his pocket.
Whatever.
At least he can be prepared now.
The sound of a harmonica singing sweetly in the park is what draws him to her.
Well, maybe one other person. The same person he finds playing a harmonica all by herself in a park, where the winds carry her notes that sound like a somber lullaby somewhere far away. He wonders if she's playing it for her someone. The same someone who must be plaguing her thoughts each and every day.
It really is a somber tune.
He doesn't know how long she plays, but each note, no matter how somber, soothes a part of him he didn't know needed relaxing. Breathing comes easier, his mind more relaxed as he leans his head back to rest against the bench. A soft sigh escapes him as the melodies continue.
For a moment, he feels at peace. As much as he loves taking photographs, there are some things that cameras can't capture. Even if he messed with the harmonica so that it would sing visually along with its sound, the photograph would still miss that integral feeling of just listening.
Of just being in the moment.
But then he hears a violent cough instead.
And the moment ends.
And he remembers of the reality they live in.
Immediately, he opens his eyes and leans over to Clementine, letting her brace herself against him as he pats her back. She doesn't try to cover her mouth. A flower, yellow and bright, slick with her saliva, slowly peeks its head out. Clementine gasps and wheezes, one hand moving to her throat, the other grasping at the flower as a few more begin to peek out. Jasper looks away when she manages to get a firm grip on the flowers, her pained groan echoing in his ears when he feels her arm jerk the flowers out from her throat.
"Goodness..." Her voice comes out scratchy, pained. He looks back to her with worry as she stops leaning against him. The flowers are gripped tightly in her hand, and now that they've stopped choking her, he gets a good look at them.
The innumerable petals form an almost perfect ball atop the stem. Instead of the almost heart shaped form the other flowers' petals had, these petals were thin, rounding out near the ends and appearing almost like teardrops if he had the nerve to reach out and pluck a petal. The bright yellow color makes light of Clementine's ordeal, a color meant to represent happiness and warmth bringing only pain and suffering. There's a certain kind of gall that comes with nature, as beautiful and wondrous as it is. Even as the nature that surrounds them gifts them with the ability to manipulate the world around them to certain degrees, it also feels the need to remind them of their place in this world.
Yes, magic is wonderful.
But magic is just a byproduct they've learned to live with. Magic is the spores that light up their world while also embedding itself in their lungs to sprout into beautiful, life-taking flowers with no regard for who it is that falls prey to the whims of magic and nature.
The gall that nature has in taking root in the humans who have no choice but to breathe in the spores that populate the air they need to survive.
How much of this is give and take? Was it ever a good idea to become so reliant on magic that they were willing to take the risk of a disease that anyone can succumb to, simply because they wanted the ease that magic could bring?
The flowers are beautiful in her hand.
Picture perfect.
He wants to crush it in his fist.
"Jasper?" A voice draws him out from his thoughts, and a soft, shaking hand gently takes his cheek and pulls it to face Clementine's paler complexion.
He wonders what she looked like when she was healthy. "Are you alright?"
"I... yeah. Sorry," he tugs at his scarf, smiling weakly, "I was just lost in my thoughts."
There's a tiny smile on her face, eyebrows down-turned with an emotion he should be feeling instead of her. She pats his cheek and drops the flowers into her lap.
"That's alright, no need to apologize for havin' them. But I take it they weren't fun ones?"
"Not really, no." He remembers then why he came to seek her out in the first place. "I, um, actually..." But asking her now is rude, isn't it? After she just had a coughing fit in front of him? "...nevermind."
"Nevermind what? It's alright, I won't judge." Her eyes search his when something sparks behind them. "Ohh, right. You're preparin' yourself."
He nods.
"Weeeell..." She hums softly before grinning as she taps the flowers. "It helps to start studyin' your flowers! Despite being such painful lil suckers, they at least give ya some sorta insight into how you're feelin'."
"...Right." Not that he really needs the flowers to tell him how he's feeling. "And the um, the coughing? Do you ever... get used to it? Or?"
For a moment, Clementine remains silent. Her eyes stare blankly at him, and he fights the urge to hide under his beanie or into his scarf. She then looks away from Jasper, eyes staring straight ahead instead. Minutes tick by in silence as she stares at the trees, branches bare as they prepare to head into winter.
Right, that was probably a bad question to ask. Suppressing a groan, he looks around, trying to keep the anxiety and guilt from building up inside him from the tension. It's then that he notices the harmonica discarded by her side and picks it up. He offers it to her wordlessly, breaking her trance as she takes it back and stores it in her pocket with a sigh.
"No," she finally answers, "you never get used to it, unfortunately. And it never gets any easier either." Her words come out as soft as her features, flowing just as sweetly as her music. "You think you get used to the feelin' of the stems and leaves pushing up inside your throat, but the more you cough, the more it scratches you up inside. Instead of getting used to it, you just... feel exhausted everyday. It becomes harder to move around, your throat and chest are in constant pain, and when you're not in pain, you're feeling sore, and when you're not sore, you're filled with aches that are bone deep, and when you think you've gotten through the worst of it, you're hit in the face with another wave of pain as the flowers remind you that they're still there." He watches as her eyes grow distant, something he's starting to notice they do often. "Remindin' you that your feelings are still here."
"...Clementine?"
"Hm?" Her eyes are green, but just a shade lighter than David's. It makes him gulp when he sees how distant and lifeless they are.
"What... how... I mean." He gestures to the flowers on her lap. "Sorry, I shouldn't ask, but, um, nevermind. Why. Haven't you sought out help yet?" The words bumble past his lips as he nervously rubs the back of his neck.
"Hmm." She taps her lips in thought, fingers rubbing the stems of the flowers. "I think now is a good time to start studyin' up your flowers, Jasper." She picks one of the blooms up and waves it around in the air. "This is a zinnia. A yellow one, to be precise."
He nods, eyes following the zinnia as she twirls it between her fingers.
"It means, in my case at least, daily remembrance."
"Daily... remembrance?" Daily remembrance of what? Of her love? Or more importantly-
His heart drops.
"...You mean."
"Yup!" She smiles, as if there's nothing missing from her life. "My boyfriend."
Jasper takes a sharp intake of breath, and he realizes that maybe having green eyes isn't the only thing in common that Clementine has with David. The smile she hides behind, it looks just like David's when he was younger. A smile still present sometimes when he doesn't want to admit that something's wrong.
He doesn't say anything however and lets her continue. "He died due to an accident. He was a wizard researching spores as a possible new source of energy. Somethin' that could move us forward into the future. But there was an explosion. He was the only one who didn't make it. They said he was the reason why everyone else managed to get out in time but..." Her fingers clench the flowers tightly. "Part o' me wishes that he didn't try to be a good person in that moment. Selfish, right?" Her voice shakes with tremors she can't control, much like the flowers that bloom from her lungs. "He wouldn't have liked that. That's not the woman he fell in love with, actin' and thinkin' thoughts like, I wish someone else had died insteada him. That he didn't hafta feel the need to play the hero and leave me alone like this." The shaking travels down into her hands. "And now look at me! A fine wreck." He reaches towards her, placing his hand on top of hers to try and comfort her. By all means, they are practically strangers but.
He wants to help ease her mind, even if it's just for a moment.
"I'm sure if, if it had been you, he would have felt the same way."
"Maybe. But I like to think he would have dealt with it much better." She pulls a hand out from under Jasper's to grasp at her throat. "I wouldn't want him to feel this kinda pain. It's downright awful. But I don't want to lose my love for him. So I just... I have to wait it out."
"Wait it out?"
"Until I've had my moment. Until I've. Properly moved on from him. Until it stops feelin' like it's the end of the world now that I've lost him." She chuckles lifelessly as she turns to look at Jasper with those sad green eyes of hers. "It's been two months! I want to move on, but at the same time, I just can't. I'm scared that if I do, I'll lose him. I'll forget the way he smiled. How he would hold my hands in those big ol' paws of his. How warm his hugs were. Love is downright wonderful when you have, and downright terrible when you lose it." Throughout that whole moment, she didn't shed a single tear.
It would have been fine if she cried but.
The defeated posture. The reluctance and acceptance. He doesn't think she's run out of tears to cry. It's more as though she's... thoroughly given up.
Perhaps it's not her grief that's preventing her from moving on, but rather, her willingness to continue on.
"Clementine, have you um... maybe this isn't my place but." He tugs on his scarf as he avoids looking at her eyes. "It kinda feels like you... maybe, don't want to get better."
A beat.
The wind blows by again, and he draws his jacket closer around him.
It's cold.
"What makes you say that?"
And she's so deceptively calm. But he doesn't want to look at her. Doesn't want to try and read whatever feeling she thinks she's hiding from him.
She's just like David.
And that hurts.
"'Cause you're making it sound like you don't have much to live for." His fingers dig into his scarf. "You're scared to move forward without him."
He expects venom.
An angry retort.
Something to put him in place.
He probably shouldn't have said that. But it needed to be said, didn't it? She's dying because she doesn't want to change anything.
She's dying because she wants to.
And. It makes him uncomfortable.
Because that thought.
Feels familiar.
"...Maybe you're right." A soft chuckle. Everything about her is soft. Too soft to be allowed to hurt this much. "But I dunno if I can do it. He was my world, and now he's gone."
"You could always love another."
"I could." But her agreement sounds as empty as her hope. "I just don't think I could find love soon enough before this disease runs its course. That's another thing you should be ready for, Jasper." She taps his hand with her finger, gentle and careful, as if he's the fragile flower and not her. "If worse comes to worse, you have to prepare yourself for death. And that's a whole lotta paperwork. And a whole lotta heartache. And a whole lotta hurt. But, if I'm being honest," her voice lowers to a whisper, the corners of her lips turning down as she looks into his blue eyes, "I'd rather that you didn't have to go through all of that."
He stares back at her with wide eyes, a stranger he's only met twice with an amount of compassion he's only ever seen in one other person before. And it leaves him without words, unable to talk as she leans back with a confidence he's sure is misplaced.
"I'm a hopeless case. I'm runnin' out of time, and I can't do much with whatever left I've been given. But you're different." She smiles, and she's all sweetness and sugar, genuine and open to him now that's she lost everything and has nothing else left to lose. "You need to live, Jasper. Don't be like me." Without giving him any time to respond, she stands up quickly, too quickly for someone in her state, and begins to walk away, leaving him behind as she does so.
But she pauses, turning back as the sun silhouettes her figure, and for a moment, there's a light he sees in her eyes that he hasn't seen before. A glow that can be mistaken as angelic, and the smile on her face looks lively and bright and filled with the kind of warmth that yellow belongs to.
"You have a future where you are loved, Jasper. I'm sure of it."
He doesn't stop her as she continues down her path, gray dress swaying lightly in the wind. He doesn't stop watching her until she disappears from sight, and it's then that he realizes there's a heavy weight on his lap.
He looks down.
And he cries the tears he thinks were given to him from her, when her body was too weak to heave a final sob for herself.
He's only met her twice.
Talked to her only twice.
But he wishes that he met her before she was stricken with the disease. When she was filled with life and was happy and bright and looked like the sun had personally blessed her with a warmth and kindness that most only dreamed of possessing.
But she's running out of time.
And she knows this.
Still.
He picks up the harmonica and presses the cold steel against his lips.
A single note lingers in the air.
It sounds like nothing at first.
But after a while.
...It starts to sound a bit somber.
A/N:
Primrose: "young love" or "I can't live without you"