Finding him was that of a painting. Leorio didn't know when it started that Kurapika stopped seeing him when he came. He wondered why the banter was never heard or why the snarky comments never came. Leorio persistently tried getting through to Kurapika daily but the boy never saw him. Leorio noticed when Kurapika started carrying amaryllis but it wasn't displayed on shelves. The bright red flowers were only seen hidden among all the other forgotten flowers on the floor. Kurapika, at some point, must have given up on sweeping.
Finding him was a poem. Leorio got through him one day; a story seemed to hit home with the shop keep. The doctor told the tale of his friend, Pietro, who died of hanahaki in front of him. Killua and Gon would sit somewhere in the shop every day. Without fail, Killua interrupted every story Leorio tried to tell like clockwork.
"Pietro sounds like a girl's name." Killua chirped from his spot on top of the counter. His loud crunching on chocolate robots were almost a match for the giggles coming from Gon.
"Sunflowers were..." He struggled to find the words to describe the horror that followed him from his childhood. Words seemed to flit across his eyes like snowflakes as he filtered through a least a thousand synonyms before settling for the simple, "they were huge."
"Poor girl." Gon quickly threw the comment into the air like it was nothing. Killua and Gon may have been inseparable but their antics always matched on par.
"His feelings weren't clear, even to himself. It was hard to help when you couldn't begin to imagine the problem. We were only twelve." The problem for young love, especially in the older times, was that romance was often looked over since it was only one of hundreds of causes. Hanahaki was newer and children didn't have classes in place to be properly informed. Hanahaki was an illness. Plain. Simple. It was something for doctors to take care of. It was something the poor just died of. If you had no money, Hanahaki was a death note. Pinned to your chest, each petal was a warning of your upcoming end.
"When the flowers bloomed," Leorio felt older than his years. His shoulders sagged and his voice went a little higher to hold back any emotions daring to come forward. Kurapika saw him for the first time in a week. Leorio couldn't just leave him without the ending. He finally just got his attention! "She went fast."
Killua snorted which got cut off by a swift elbow to the gut. Gon hushed him but couldn't hide the smile prompted by the verbal slip. Leorio flustered a flurry of, "he! I meant he! God danimt, Killua."
The story didn't end. Leorio went on and became a nonprofit doctor. He served poor folk free of charge. His only condition was simple. Pay it forward to someone else. It could be as little as letting another family know his clinic existed or as big as contributing the money or supplies to help a hundred more children. Those who could pay, did. Those who couldn't-spread the word. The kindhearted doctor was well known. One day patients started leaving tips. He didn't like the idea that he could profit from kindness, so he put it into flowers. If a family donated 10-20$, he would buy a vase full of flowers for a patient.
That led Leorio to Kurapika.
Their origin story.
Leorio was sure he still had Kurapika's attention but Kurapika looked out the window, down the road, down to the clinic, and coughed a hard cough. He locked the door and and passed the trio on by. The past few days, this was a pattern. Getting locked in the flower shop only meant it was time to go. Kurapika was on autopilot and he was on his way up to bed.
"Do you think he's eating?" Gon said as Kurapika climbed the stairs next to the counter.
"I'm sure he's fine." Killua reassured. Killua was always the voice of reason, even if the reason was unreasonable. Leorio was never allowed upstairs by the silver haired boy. 'You weren't invited,' he'd say. No one was making sure he was taking care of the simple things.
Finding him grow thin made Leorio feel sick. The second week had passed and Kurapika wasn't getting better. There were more and more flowers by the day. It became evident that the reason Kurapika couldn't see was due to illness. Killua leaned over and clarified 'yup, definitely has a fever,' as if he was the doctor in the room. Gon, in his infinite wisdom, somehow got Kurapika to stay hydrated. When the trio realized Kurapika was in autopilot, Gon kept bottles of water on the table they always ran to. There, Kurapika drank. The boys began to slip vitamins in the water and hoped it'd help.
"Killua, he's getting worse." Leorio said from his spot from across the room. Every day, Killua gave a new limit to as close he could come to the shop keep. Leorio closed his clinic and began to sit in the shop at all hours. The boys skipped school. They were on Kurapika duty til the fever passed.
"How do you know?" Killua feigned ignorance. "You're all the way across the room!"
Another day marked red on the floor.
Finding him heaving flowers in the center of the floor three weeks into the illness sent Leorio in a frenzy. He panicked and tried to open the door to the flower shop but found it to be locked. Killua and Gon were next to Kurapika freaking out. A container of salt was rolled across the floor and they were kneeling in a puddle of water and blood. Leorio screamed and banged on the door but he was not let in.
Finding him was a nightmare. Leorio woke up the day after and Kurapika was draped over the counter surrounded in flowers. Amaryllis stained the desk and scattered on the floor. It looked like a painting. If Leorio didn't know better, he would imagine Kurapika to be sleeping. The problem was: Leorio did know better. He banged on the door as loud as he could, screaming Kurapika's name, causing a ruckus, anything to illicit a response from the blond. Any sign of life would be a relief. It would be all Leorio needed at that moment.
There was no sign of breathing.
Leorio took the barrel, barren of flowers, and smashed the glass door and rushed to pick up the non responsive body.
A silver haired boy was curled up in the fetal position against a wall of dying flowers. His grief radiating all through out the room, it was almost impossible to break through. He said nothing when Leorio took Kurapika across the glass ridden floor and out the door.
Carrying him down the road was the hardest thing Leorio had to do. There was no sign of life, no sign of breathing, and Leorio could feel emotions bubbling in his throat. In a time like this, he needed to be clear headed. He needed to be there for the boy who brought sun to his days. Leorio saw it happening slowly but he knew he loved Kurapika. Everything pointed to him. It wasn't that he was hiding it from Kurapika, but he wanted a relationship to form naturally and not from disaster.
He wanted to take him to dinner.
He wanted to grab his hand despite the sweat dripping from it. 'Its just really hot out,' he would lie.
Kurapika would be okay and Leorio would flush brighter than any flower the shopkeeper could name.
Leorio would pay for everything and that would be okay.
A kiss would have to come from Leorio first when Kurapika wasn't paying much attention.
They would have a delicate relationship that was okay and natural.
Everything would be okay, he just had to make a move.
He never imagined having to cart his love to the ER because he was stupid enough to be deterred by a child. Killua knew from day one what was happening. Killua made boundaries and kept them by hitting Leorio with a yo-yo if he went passed them. Killua tried home remedies to remove the flowers without the surgery. Killua kept it more secret than he was ever able to keep his own illness.
"I made sure he ate." Killua said one day. "We made cake together." Whether that was true or not was beyond Leorio. Kurapika didn't feel like he was starving. His bones never poked through. He looked thinner but never once did Leorio have to wonder if he ate again. Killua was taking care of him.
Kurapika woke up startled on operating table. His chest hurt and a small crew of doctors that hovered over him sighed in relief. Kurapika tried to looked from side to side but was met with masked faces at each turn. His mouth ached. Kurapika used his tongue to map the corners of his mouth only to find open wounds that tasted like salt and vines that crawled down his throat.
The sounds of carts wheeling fast at high paces in the halls and the blaring lights were overwhelming. The petals on his tongue barred him from speech. On one side of his face, he could only see red. His sense were overstimulated and nothing was okay. Kurapika's first instinct was the begin short panicked breaths.
The red wasn't blood. His flower was covering half his face. Even fairy tales claimed it was impossible to grow to outside objects. He could only but wonder if the fable was wrong. It sounded as if another doctor was beside him, clipping away, only for them to be replaced by more of the dangerously beautiful flowers.
His body was nothing but a flower garden. Leorio jolted and tried putting a hand on Kurapika's shoulder. At first, for comfort, but mostly so he didn't knock any of the medical tools out of whack. He must have jolted.
"Would you stop with that already?" Leorio was insistent and tired. His voice commanded yet held kindness in its palm. His bedside manner wasn't what they taught in schools but it all seemed appropriate for the thrashing blond. They bring him to a room that was somehow brighter than the hall before it and started to remove the tubing he hadn't even registered being there before.
"Now, once this is removed, we have to act fast." The assistant on the side Kurapika couldn't see out of stated. Everyone in the room nodded and was putting on gloves. Leorio included. Small reminders were passed around as if they were kids with notes in high school. 'Stay away from the original flower,' 'be careful not the cut into the lining of the esophagus,' and most importantly 'listen to Dr. Paladiknight.' None of the reminders were coming from Leorio but he approved of all they said.
When the tube was completely removed, Kurapika took the second before gasping for air to say 'no'. He attempted to at least. The words fell behind the barrier building rapidly where the tube had been. He heard an assistant call for sedative when they couldn't get a safe angle to the patient's mouth.
Kurapika didn't recall anything past the pinch.
He phased back into consciousness when he woke up in a recovery room. His body felt groggy and with every attempt at moving fell short of a twitch. He tilted his head to the side to see Leorio gripping Kurapika's like it was his saving grace. His head was bowed and the sheets were stained from tears. Kurapika mentally chuckled. He seemed like a cryer. To give a sign he was awake, Kurapika tried moving the hand the doctor gripped tightly to.
Leorio jolted up and looked over him. Questions in his eyes and answers being prepped on his lips, Leorio was obviously confused as to where to start. From the ache in Kurapika's throat, he knew that the vines had been scraped clear of his throat. He'd be able to talk, that was for sure, but the thought of being in the hospital with his doctor crying by his bedside was bringing on cliche movie feelings and Kurapika was beginning to feel the heat in his cheeks. If removing his flowers only hurt as much as it did now? He could live with that.
"We aren't done." Leorio whispered. Kurapika's heart dropped. Deep in his body was a garden that refused to settle. New blooms came fast and deadly. Time was ticking and it hung in the air like a pendulum. Each second the blade swung closer and closer to take the final kill. "The vines were removed from your airways but x-rays show that they progressed into your lungs. If we don't go back in…"
"N-" Kurapika tried to sit up only to be pushed down with the force of almost nothing at all. He was weak enough a feather would probably knock him out.
"I CAN'T LOSE YOU TOO" Leorio's voice was stern and full of anguish. Tears came rolling down his face again and Kurapika couldn't find a single word to assuage the sadness radiating from his love. Leorio could find more than a few. "Did you know what it was like to find you?" Leorio didn't need to finish for Kurapika to understand. He didn't need to finish but he did.
"I came every day. For three weeks, I came to check in on you." Three weeks? Kurapika barely remembered one passing. "I sat by your side as your illness progressed and somehow I was still blindsighted. Why couldn't you tell me you were in love with someone? I could have been a shoulder to cry on. I could have been there to tell you that your negative feelings, although valid, were crazy. Anyone would be a fool not to love you."
A fool would be dead if Kurapika passed away from Hanahaki, because Leorio wouldn't stop til he made it so.
Kurapika let Leorio get everything out on the table. His breathing was made easier, as there were no vines blocking his airways. He just focused on breathing and listening. Leorio needed him to hear every word and that's what he was going to do. He processed 'every day' despite not remembering a single hour of seeing the doctor. he digested 'anyone would be a fool' and half chuckled at the irony.
"I could have helped you and you shut me out and I can't begin to understand why. We could have controlled it before we got here. It didn't have to come to this but it did. Why did it come to this?" Leorio clenched tighter to the hand he never let go of. The words hung in the air. "Love, why did it come to this?" the soft and barely audible prayer framed everything said prior and something just clicked.
Kurapika let his face grow soft and built up enough voice to say one thing, "okay."
Leorio met his eyes and searched for any lie in them. Kurapika just nodded and the air lifted around them. He would do the surgery. He would do the surgery and find some way to love Leorio again. As long as Leorio had love for him, he would find a way.
He was going to be okay.
Killua and Gon came in to visit him before the main surgery. Killua barely talked but when he did, it felt like an apology in every word.
"Killua took care of you." Gon told Kurapika when Leorio left the room. It was blunt and to the point but necessary. "He read that book you had around about flowers and saw that salt killed plants. He wasn't really thinking straight when he gave you too much salt."
"Yea, sorry about that." The first words with an actual apology.
"It seemed like he had it under control, swept flowers, kept Leorio away, made sure you got vitamins and even force fed you." Gon sounded proud. His smile was brighter than the hospital lights. Someone had to be. The place was dull and foreboding. The world seemed to crash in on him so Gon was a nice breath of fresh air.
"I put it in his hands, he fed himself." Killua corrected.
"Then Leorio started getting suspicious. We messed up one day...but you recovered! Then you weren't okay again." Gon continued on like Killua never spoke. His hands followed every word. He made it interesting. He made it light. "Leorio slept outside the door but when he saw you weren't breathing he broke your glass. Oh by the way, Leorio broke your glass door."
The door was the least of his worries.
He only kept that smile in his sight and "love, why did it come to this" in his heart when he was carted through the ER door.
A/N:: Thanks to the reviewers who told me salt! I definitely used it to hurt my children!