Disclaimer: This work of fan fiction uses characters from Rise of the Guardians, The Guardians of Childhood, and Frozen which are trademarked by DreamWorks Animation, William Joyce, and the Walt Disney Company respectively. The author of this story claims no ownership over them. The story the author is telling is of her own invention and it is not purported or believed to be part of the canon storyline. This story is made for entertainment purposes only. The author is not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story.

warning: course language

may the petals teach me

the art of letting go

Xan Oku

GARDENIA

ONE

bitter love, a violet with its crown
of thorns in a thicket of spiky passions,
spear of sorrow, corolla of rage; how did you come
to conquer my soul? by what means and roads brought you?

Sonnet III, Pablo Neruda

when the flowers first came

Jack gagged, coughing loudly into the toilet bowl. His hands were gripping the cold, white plastic as he hacked and dry heaved.

Ivory, white flower petals spilt from his lips, floating like wisps of smoke into the water below.

"Jack?" North called, his voice muffled by the half-closed door of the staff bathroom.

It was a single stall bathroom in the back, sparsely decorated with a vase of fake roses and a wood-sage-sea-salt candle that was always lit – courtesy the owner. Jack must have failed to close the door in his haste to reach the toilet bowl. But even if he had shut the door, North probably would have come to investigate anyway.

"Are you alright? You didn't finish the order for the last customer, Bunnymund got it though."

Jack closed his eyes, the salt of tears burned beneath his eyelids and collected in his lashes. He was not subtle in his attempts to get to the bathroom. In the middle of making an order for a customer, his hands shook, and his breaths came in almost pants as the blossoms rose up his throat. He knocked the mug over, spilling a shot of espresso on the table that dripped down onto the hem of his jeans and shoes. But there was no time to correct his mistakes, his vision blurred as he was forced to hold his breath – to hold in the coughing fit. He dashed to the bathroom, collapsing in front of the toilet and heaving.

Jack clamped his mouth shut, inhaling through his nose and hoping that it would help the need to vomit pass. The scent of his own sweat, the sea-salt from the candle, the white flowers, and the constant presence of coffee that clung to his skin mingling and swirling around him.

Jack was gasping as the latest episode came to an end and he spat the last of the petals left hanging from his tongue, wiping the corners of his lips tiredly.

"Yeah. Sorry, I'm okay, North," Jack said, his voice sounded terrible, scratchy and hoarse like he'd been screaming for hours or smoked his entire life. His hands shook as he reached for the handle to flush the evidence before North saw. But his hand slipped tiredly off the metal, lacking the strength to push. "It's nothing – I think I'm catching something – probably just a stomach bug."

He felt North's shadow behind him, the older man knelt down, rubbing gentle circles into Jack's back.

"You were just fine this afternoon, did you eat something bad?"

Suddenly the bathroom door slammed open again, and Bunnymund stepped in.

"Jack, what happened. You just left an order unfinished and a mess on the table," Bunnymund said.

"Sorry," Jack muttered.

"I think Jack's got food poisoning, again," North replied.

"No, North, I didn't eat anything bad," Jack murmured, remaining hunched over the toilet bowl, he couldn't let them see, not now. He reached for the toilet handle once more, a practiced excuse coming from his lips. "Uh, a bunch of my classmates are coming down with something, I think it's my turn."

But then Bunnymund came, placing a hand on Jack's shoulder and pulling him away from the toilet and peered into the bowl.

"Did you – did you puke this up?" Bunnymund asked. North glanced into the toilet bowl too, brows furrowing at the sight of wilting white petals.

"Jack – "

"This is not stomach flu."

"Shit – Jack – are those flower petals?" Bunnymund hissed. Jack slid to the side, collapsing against the wall. He rubbed the base of his palms against his eyes in frustration, letting out a shuddering breath. There was no point in attempting to hide it now.

"Hanahaki byou," North breathed.

"What?" Bunnymund asked.

"Flower vomiting disease," North translated into English. "I don't know much about it, other than the coughing up of flowers because of well, unrequited love."

"Stomach bug. Really? You have a case of some fucking flower-vomiting disease, and you think that you can lie that you have a stomach bug?"

"It only recently got this bad," Jack said as if he had caught the flu and decided to go to work. "The episodes never were more than a few petals at a time."

"Fuck," Bunnymund hissed.

"I can't believe I didn't notice," North murmured. "You smelled like a walking florist shop, but I thought it was just a new cologne."

Jack tried to stand, shakily attempting to get to his feet, Bunnymund was quick to help, grasping Jack's free him and wrapping it over his shoulder, wrapping his other arm around the boy's waist and hauling him upright. North shut the bathroom door behind him, flushing the toilet, and pushing the cover of the seat down as Bunnymund settled Jack down on top. North brushed the strands of damp hair away from Jack's eyes, slyly brushing the back of his hand against the 23-year-old's forehead, backing away when there was no sign of fever.

The Russian then settled against the door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed and Bunnymund sat on the countertop by the sink.

"They're gardenias," Jack said, burying his head in his hands tiredly. "The flower is supposed to mean something like 'secret love' in Japanese. Fucking fitting, don't you think?"

"Uh huh, and long have you kept this a fucking secret?" Bunnymund asked.

Jack raked his hands through his hair as he stood, slowly making his way to the sink, placing his hands on the edge. He leaned into his braced hands, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, rimmed red from the exertion of upheaving the contents in his lungs. His skin was an ashen, sickly pale that stood out against his dishevelled white hair. His clothes were in no better shape, the standing collar of his soft blue dress shirt curled and wrinkled when he desperately yanked on it in hopes of getting more air down his throat and he could feel the warmth seeping into his skin where he spilt coffee on his jeans.

"Jack?" North said.

Jack raked a hand through his hair, trying to stop tired tears from falling. Lie, he thought to himself. Lie to them. But that's going to be nearly impossible.

"A couple of weeks," he answered quietly, glad that his voice didn't break that time.

Bunnymund cursed. "Are you shitting me, Jack?"

"A few weeks with Hanahaki?" North hissed.

"M'sorry," Jack mumbled tiredly, "didn't want you to worry."

"Have you seen a doctor?"

"No, not yet. But I got an appointment with a specialist next week."

"Good. I'm coming with you," Bunnymund said in a tone that Jack couldn't even consider arguing against.

"Okay, thank you," Jack said. "I feel better now. I'll be out in a bit; you can go first."

"Like hell I am," Bunnymund snapped. "I'm taking you home."

"But I haven't finished my shift yet," Jack said blankly.

"I don't care. You look like shit."

"No Bunnymund, it's alright I can make it home on my own, you don't have too."

"Uh huh, sure. I'll believe you if you didn't just cough up an entire fucking bouquet in the toilet, you're lucky enough we aren't going to tell Tooth. Yet. Come on; I'm done my shift anyway."

"Okay," Jack sighed. "Just let me just get rid of this god-awful taste in my mouth."

"I have to go back to the store," North said. "You sure you're going to be okay?"

"Yeah," Jack replied. "

"I have gum in my jacket pocket if you need it," North said, turning to leave the room. He paused, turning around. Bunnymund hovered by the door, and both eyed each other with the same question resting on their lips.

"Jack?" North said.

"Hm?" Jack replied, his mouth full of water as he rinsed his mouth and vigorously scrubbed his face.

"Who are the flowers for?"

Jack whipped his head around, droplets of water spraying on the mirror, floor, and North. The air was thick, the answer hanging without Jack even having to say, water continuing to guzzle down the drain.

"You know who."

Author's Note: Hi... I know it's been a long time. I got like 5 other storylines that I should be working on. But I recently got obsessed with a KPOP band called BTS (gawd help me, all I wanted was to know their names) and I can't stop reading so much fanfiction and wanting to contribute to the fandom and the Hanahaki Disease plot bunny WILL NOT LEAVE ME ALONE. So I was gonna angst it up for my first contribution to the BTS fandom, but then I thought: hey, the JELSA fandom could use some angst too, cause there can never be enough angst. So. HERE WE GO. This will be a 9-part piece. Some chapters will be much longer than others. This is also my first time having characters curse in my stories. But I thought it was fitting, for some reason.

Also, I will be posting this story with some adjustments onto Archive of Our Own as a BTS story. So if you are obsessed with BTS, join me there too!

Tell me what you guys think! Yell at me in the comments or private message me. I need friends (and a social life).

Until the next time I post!

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Love,

EireneHarmonia