Work Text:
Zhu Yuan doesn’t usually fall sick.
Her body is surprisingly healthy considering how often she subjects it to late nights, Etheric material and bursts of frantic, dangerous activity. In the years she’s worked at Public Security, she can count the amount of times she’s fallen sick on both hands. On top of that, she has the enviable ability to shrug off most illnesses within a day or two, so she’s never had to really deal with the misery of being unwell for very long.
Until now.
For some strange reason, Zhu Yuan has been coughing for what must be two weeks now, her fever mild but terribly persistent. No amount of over-the-counter pills can put a dent in it, but the symptoms aren’t that bad, so she keeps reporting for work anyway. Qingyi gives her disapproving looks for it, offers her hot tea or honey lemon and a hot water bottle to cuddle up to, but stops short of dragging her bodily to the nearest doctor.
The concern makes her feel warm, fuzzy, though that might also be the fever. Her throat feels sore, swollen, almost as if something were balled up at the base of it and pushing upward. Sometimes, she tastes something… sweet, nutty, with just a hint of bitterness, rising from the back of her tongue and threatening to spill out of her mouth.
She sips at ginger tea, stays out of the direct path of Seth’s little desk fan, ensures she doesn’t go to bed with wet hair. She tries to eat regular meals, to sleep before midnight on most days, to cut down on her overtime hours. But still, the accursed illness doesn’t go away, instead growing steadily stronger and more uncomfortable with each passing day.
It takes about a month for the first petal to escape from her lungs.
It is white-pink, mercifully small, warm from all the time it has spent inside her body. Frozen in shock, Zhu Yuan stares at it for what feels like an eternity, her mind struggling to accept the reality that the little flower petal suggests.
Hanahaki.
The disease of hidden love. But Zhu Yuan doesn’t particularly feel like she’s in love, and she’s got no idea who the target of her affections could possibly be.
White-pink. Is the color supposed to be a clue…? Zhu Yuan hasn’t really kept up with the gossip around hanahaki, so she isn’t quite sure. She doesn’t think she knows anyone associated with that color, though. Qingyi is green, the manager is dark blue and orange, and most of the people she knows are associated with the blues and blacks of the PubSec uniform.
It can’t possibly be anyone else, right? Like, Orchidea might have a sort of similar color palette to this petal, but she’s not remotely close enough for Zhu Yuan to be in love with…
“Zhu Yuan?”
Jolted from her thoughts, Zhu Yuan jumps so violently, she breaks into horrible, hacking coughs. The petal in her hand drifts to the floor as more begin to gather in her throat, tumbling into her palms like confetti. It feels as if an entire bouquet of flowers has suddenly unloaded itself into the back of her throat, struggling to escape as they scrape at the walls of her esophagus.
“Q-Qingyi,” she chokes out between coughs, trying to swallow back as many bittersweet petals as she can, “It- it isn’t as bad as it looks, really…”
The look on Qingyi’s face is complicated. There’s concern there, of course, soft and gentle as she presses a warm hand between Zhu Yuan’s shoulder blades. But there’s also something harder to read, something shadowy and undefined, twisted in a way that almost seems like… fear?
“Zhu Yuan, hanahaki can be fatal.”
Right, she does vaguely remember hearing about that back in the academy. So it’s true, then…
“We just,” she coughs again, the last of the petals finally going back down her throat. “We just have to find out who it is, right?”
“Oh, to have the confidence of the young and good-looking,” Qingyi says, teasing.
She turns red. “What does that mean?”
“Your feelings need to be reciprocated. That is usually what terrifies people to suffer in silence, but it seems you are confident in your own attractiveness.”
Mortified, Zhu Yuan yelps, “They have to be what?!”
“I figured you didn’t know,” Qingyi’s mouth is smiling, but for some strange reason, her eyes are incredibly sad. “So, do you have any idea who you’ll be confessing to?”
Her face heats up, all the way to the tips of her ears and down her neck to her collarbones. Ducking her head, she goes through her mental list, comes up with a total of three possibilities.
The most likely one is probably the video shop manager, Belle, since she’s appeared on Zhu Yuan’s life only recently and could be the catalyst of this sudden disease onset. Then there’s Qingyi, the person who is probably the person Zhu Yuan is closest to in the entire world (even including her parents, these days). And then there’s Jane, who has the unique ability of reducing Zhu Yuan to a flustered mess with her stupidly suggestive words.
“I’m not sure,” she says, “I don’t feel like I’m in love with anyone.”
“What does being in love feel like, anyway?” Qingyi asks, light and conversational.
“I wouldn’t know,” she admits, slightly embarrassed. “I’ve never been in love before.”
Qingyi raises a finger, her eyes glowing briefly as she connects to the Inter-Knot. It takes her only a moment to trawl through it for information, though from her expression, it seems that there is no definitive answer. Even so, she dutifully recites the information she’s gathered, her tone almost robotic.
“You may find that your heart races when you are around them. You may want to spend more time with them, and feel like the time you have is not enough. You may feel safe with them and allow yourself to be vulnerable around them.”
Zhu Yuan hums thoughtfully.
“Someone my heart races around would be Jane,” she says, and for some reason, Qingyi seems to deflate at those words. “Someone I want to spend more time with… Belle, I suppose? And someone I feel safe with… would be you.”
Qingyi flinches, as if someone has just slapped her across the face. It takes her a moment to calm down, her fans whirring audibly as her body attempts to cool down her central processor.
“The manager is probably the easiest person to find, so let’s start with her.”
“But… you’re right here?”
Qingyi ignores her. “I’ve sent her a message.”
Defeated, Zhu Yuan sighs. Perhaps Qingyi is hoping it isn’t her, because she isn’t capable of reciprocating, and if that is the case, Zhu Yuan won’t push the matter.
“How would I know if it is her?”
Another pause, another sweep of the Inter-Knot.
“The symptoms should suddenly worsen when you talk to them, and once you confess, will go away completely.”
“Worsen. Right,” Zhu Yuan croaks, her heart sinking just a little, “I can deal with that.”
“Hang in there,” Qingyi hums, sympathetic. “You’ll get through this, and I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
Her chest feels warm, trust and affection thick in the back of her throat.
“Thank you.”
Belle is surprisingly free for someone who runs her own business.
Zhu Yuan has no idea if that is because she’s some sort of administrative genius, or if her poor brother is the one doing all the stock-taking, tracking of videotapes and other important duties while she runs around. Either way, Belle is more than happy to accommodate Zhu Yuan for a last-minute hangout session, “anywhere and anytime you like!”
In the end, Qingyi settled for something simple - a movie over at Random Play. The environment will be familiar and private, which will facilitate a romantic confession, but is casual enough to be brushed off as platonic should her symptoms not respond.
“Zhu Yuan! Come on in,” Belle says enthusiastically, practically dragging her through the doorway.
There’s a black cat on the counter, eyeing her suspiciously as Belle herds her up the stairs. The younger woman is chattering away about the movie she’s picked for them - it seems Qingyi has asked her to show Zhu Yuan some relaxing, fun movies to keep her mind off work or something. Her energy is endearing, high but not too high, innocent in a way that makes Zhu Yuan want to protect her.
But is it her?
Zhu Yuan swallows slowly, trying to sense any differences in her throat. The ever-present itching doesn’t let up, but it doesn’t really seem to be getting worse, either. It simply lingers, leaving the bittersweet taste of flowers on her tongue.
“Did Qingyi force you to take another day off?”
Startled, she nearly trips on the final stair, catching herself just before she ends up bashing her shins against the wood.
“Yeah, something like that,” she says awkwardly.
“How many days of paid leave have you got left?”
There’s a slight accusation in Belle’s tone, causing Zhu Yuan to blush as she grumbles, “I think it’s down to 68?”
The look Belle gives her is best described as withering. It makes her heart skip a beat, not in a good way, and she feels like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“At least it’s going down,” she whines defensively.
Belle sighs, her shoulders slumping in visible defeat.
“No wonder Qingyi asked me to schedule an intervention. You’re a workaholic, Zhu Yuan.”
“I’m not that bad,” she protests; she hasn’t done that much overtime recently, and she did take a day off the other month to buy some new gardening tools…
Belle’s expression remains unimpressed, judgmental. Zhu Yuan deflates beneath it - she doesn’t like disappointing her, feels like she’s letting down a well-meaning younger sister. But if that’s the case, then Belle isn’t the one she’s looking for to remove the flowers from her lungs, right?
“We’re going to have to see if we can get you a whole week off to just sit around doing nothing…”
“A week?!” Zhu Yuan sputters, “I couldn’t possibly be away for that long!”
“At this rate, I don’t know if there will be 68 days left for you to take those leaves. Do you want to run the precinct into debt trying to encash them?”
She whimpers, going from scolded elder sister to scolded puppy.
“No…”
Belle raises a hand to her chin, thoughtful. “Maybe I could take you to the Outer Ring for a bit, ride some bikes really fast…”
“There are speed limits in the Outer Ring,” Zhu Yuan mumbles under her breath, though she knows they are not often followed.
When you’re driving on long, straight stretches of road with nothing but desert on either side and no law enforcement for miles, it’s only natural that people take liberties with the speed limit. Due to budget and manpower constraints, Public Security is willing to close an eye as long as there are no major accidents.
“Well, I’ll put more thought into it later,” Belle sounds determined now, which may not bode very well for Zhu Yuan’s peaceful work days. “Let’s watch that movie!”
They share a bowl of popcorn, their knuckles brushing on occasion. The drinks are all iced, deliciously cold, and Zhu Yuan savors every moment of it, even though she knows it isn’t good for her sore throat. Despite that, the symptoms remain blissfully mild, even when Belle accidentally grabs her finger and she nearly sends the bowl flying into the TV screen.
It is a relaxing, enlightening experience. While she enjoys spending time with Belle, would like to have more time with her, it doesn’t seem that those feelings are romantic.
It seems they’ll have to try Plan B.
Jane is much, much harder to get a hold of.
She’s in the thick of yet another infiltration mission when Qingyi reaches out to her, and doesn’t respond til two weeks later. Zhu Yuan is coughing entire flowers by that point - plum blossoms, she recognizes - sending Qingyi into a panicked frenzy. Zhu Yuan was worried she’d hack into the confidential database to find out exactly where Jane was deployed and under what name and disguise, breaking several laws in the process, just to get Zhu Yuan a date with her sooner.
Fortunately, Jane returns before any drastic measures are taken. She is smooth, unruffled, and only mildly confused by the situation that greets her.
“A date with our darling Zhu Yuan? Of course I’m in!”
And so here they are, on some supposedly romantic pedal-powered boat in the middle of the lake, Jane pressed uncomfortably (and unnecessarily) close. Zhu Yuan can smell her perfume, something musky and dark and exciting, exactly the kind of thing you’d expect someone who looks like Jane to wear. She can also feel the curve of Jane’s very generous bust against one arm, soft and warm and oh my god, her heart is trying to punch its way out of her throat.
She coughs, just once. The irritation is mild, and doesn’t seem to be increasing despite her out-of-control heart rate.
Jane notices, because of course she does.
“Is my perfume that overpowering, or are you still not feeling well?”
Is that concern hidden beneath the layers of suggestive teasing, or is Zhu Yuan just being delusional? Even if it is concern, how can she be sure it is genuine? It’s hard to tell with Jane, the practiced actress that she is, and Zhu Yuan decides not to dwell too much on it.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine soon,” she says, evasive.
“Oh?” Jane’s tail curls around her wrist, surprisingly strong. “Does that mean you have plans to confess?”
Of course Jane’s seen right through her. She wouldn’t be surprised if Jane figured it out by Qingyi’s second message, considering how intelligent the woman seems to be.
“I’m… trying to figure it out,” she says weakly.
She feels sick. Not in a hanahaki, there are flowers in my throat way, but in a nervous, wretched, I’m going to throw up way. But the boat is too small for her to throw up without getting it all over herself or Jane, and she doesn’t want to puke directly into this very pretty lake…
“You should just tell her,” Jane says, softer this time. Gentler. “There’s no way she’ll say no to you.”
Zhu Yuan swallows thickly, tasting the bittersweet tang of plum blossoms on her tongue. “She?”
The confusion that crosses Jane’s face seems genuine. “Wait. You don’t know who it’s for?”
“No,” she admits, gesturing to the boat and the pretty lake and the scenery in general. “That’s what this was for.”
“Me?” Jane’s tail whips back in surprise, curls into a sort of S-shape. “I’m flattered, honey, but isn’t it painfully obvious who you’re really in love with?”
“It… is?”
Jane sighs, pressing one hand to her forehead. “I thought it was weird when she asked me to hang out with you… Both of you are in denial, huh?”
She does not give Zhu Yuan the opportunity to respond, her tail curling around Zhu Yuan’s bicep and resting gently above her throat.
“It’s not getting worse around me, now is it?”
Zhu Yuan clears her throat experimentally. She can feel the flower petals in the base of her throat, scratchy and uncomfortable, but they aren’t actively trying to choke her to death. Her lungs feel strangely crowded, like they can’t expand right, but that’s how it has been over the last few weeks.
“No. It didn’t get worse around Belle either.”
“Belle? You tried Belle?” Jane sighs, slouching forward to hit her head against the steering wheel of the boat. “There is denial, and there’s whatever the two of you have going on.”
“I still don’t get what you mean,” she says, because honestly, she doesn’t. Denial? What is she supposed to be in denial about, being in love in the first place…?
“Wait. Just sit there and look pretty for me, darling.”
Jane flips open her phone, taps at the keys with great purpose. The phone rings for a moment, two, and then an all-too-familiar voice crackles through the speaker.
“Hello?”
“Qingyi,” Jane’s voice is smooth, calm, every bit as saccharine as it always is. “Would you like to tell me why you sent poor Zhu Yuan to the middle of a lake with me?”
“I thought it would give you the privacy to talk,” Qingyi replies, slightly defensive. “Is something wrong?”
“I think she’d rather be here with you,” Jane replies. “The poor thing looks like an abandoned puppy.”
Zhu Yuan jumps with a startled squeak, the sudden movement rocking through the little boat. Jane wraps her tail around her wrist to steady them both, preventing them from being knocked overboard.
“Is she alright?”
“She’s not coughing up a bouquet, if that’s what you’re asking about,” Jane says casually, tugging Zhu Yuan closer with her tail. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Yet?”
Zhu Yuan and Qingyi echo the word in near perfect synchronization, much to Jane’s amusement. She mumbles something under her breath with a fond roll of her eyes, then raises her voice so she can be heard by them both.
“Tell me, Zhu Yuan, would you enjoy this more if Qingyi were here instead of me?”
She pauses to think, and that seems to be all the flowers need to blossom wildly in her lungs. She gasps, chokes, doubles over as horrible coughs rip through her body.
“Zhu Yuan?!” Qingyi’s voice is pitched high with panic, “Jane, what’s going on? Is she okay?”
Jane leans over to pat her back, firm but gentle. Flower petals spill into her lap, bittersweet and fragrant, catching in the wind and flying across the surface of the lake.
“She’ll be fine. Wait for us at the docks, won’t you, darling? I think the two of you need to talk.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Zhu Yuan whimpers when she hears the call disconnect, something sharp twisting in her chest. She barely has the time to turn her face away from Jane before she vomits, a mixture of plum blossoms and saliva and thick, bitter blood.
Jane makes a small, sympathetic sound, but doesn’t speak. Her hand moves in gentle circles between Zhu Yuan’s shoulder blades, a lifeline for her to grip onto until she can finally breathe again.
It is a slow, painful journey back to the dock.
She feels utterly miserable as Jane helps her hobble off the boat, the iron tang of blood thick on her tongue.
“Zhu Yuan!”
Qingyi is on her in a moment, warm hands on her shoulders. Under normal circumstances, the action would be of great comfort to Zhu Yuan, but today, her body seems to be intent on screwing her over.
Her lungs burn, bending her over with the force of her hacking coughs. She can feel the ball of flower petals rising in her throat, the painful searing in the back of her nose as blood begins to fill her mouth.
She vomits again. The flowers are more red than pink now, splattering onto Qingyi’s lap with a heavy sound. Zhu Yuan wants to apologize, to turn away, but she cannot find the strength to control her aching body. Over and over again, she retches, fire burning from her nose all the way to her throat and down to her lungs. It is a level of pain and misery she would not wish upon anyone, not even her worst enemy.
“I think you know what this means,” Jane says softly, using her tail to brush Zhu Yuan’s hair out of her face.
“It’s…” Zhu Yuan coughs again, forces herself to swallow back the next mouthful of petals so that she can speak. “It’s you, Qingyi. I’m in love with you.”
Surprise, disbelief, fear. Qingyi remains frozen for far too long, allowing another wave of flowers to disgorge themselves from Zhu Yuan’s throat.
Panic seizes her, makes it difficult to breathe. This is where the rejection comes, she thinks, this is why Qingyi hoped so desperately that it was Belle or Jane that she was in love with. Why else would she refuse to entertain the mere thought of it being her, otherwise? What happens when you get your feelings rejected, is death immediate or does she have to slowly choke to death on her own blood?
It is Jane that breaks the silence.
“Qingyi, she loves you. I know that you’re afraid to believe it, but she’s in a lot of pain right now. She needs you to have some faith in her, alright?”
It takes a moment for Jane’s words to sink in. When they do, Qingyi gently cradles Zhu Yuan’s face in both hands, trembling like a leaf in the wind. Her eyes are full of guilt and fear, but also hope and wonder.
“I love you too, Zhu Yuan.”
The flowers make one final stand, a sharp burst of pain that tears through Zhu Yuan like the serrated edge of a knife dug between her ribs. And then they disappear, completely and utterly, her lungs light and her throat clear in a way they haven’t been in weeks.
Zhu Yuan takes a deep, shuddering breath, her body going limp in relief. She’s almost forgotten what it feels like to breathe easily, to swallow without discomfort and the taste of blood in the back of her mouth. Qingyi takes the opportunity to pull her close, easily supporting all of Zhu Yuan’s weight as she slumps tiredly against her.
The reality of their situation takes a few moments to settle in.
She’s in love with Qingyi, who loves her in return.
There seem to be some issues in the way, something about the faith Jane mentioned, but the truth is undeniable. They are in love, but what does that entail? Is it going to unfold like all those romance movies do, with fluffy shenanigans and floral weddings and horseback rides off into the sunset? What is she supposed to do next, how is their relationship going to change?
Faith. There is so much weight to a single word, and Zhu Yuan isn’t sure how she’s supposed to live up to it. Throw love into the mix, and what shape is it supposed to take?
She doesn’t know. In fact, she’s absolutely terrified, because she likes what she has with Qingyi and the idea of unknown changes twists her stomach into knots. Will love change the way they go on missions together, the way they bicker with each other, the way Qingyi keeps dropping poetic wisdoms on her while replacing all her iced drinks with hot ones?
She doesn’t want it to. It’ll be nice if things can stay the way they are, but being stagnant isn’t good for anyone. Their relationship will have to change, to grow, and… that is probably where the faith comes in, the faith in each other to believe that these changes will be for the better.
“I’m still not sure if I know what love is,” she says slowly, hoarsely. “But I know that I love you, Qingyi, and I want to learn what that means together.”
“Sap,” Jane grumbles, but she’s smiling.
“Sap,” Qingyi agrees, but she’s crying.