Archive of Our Own

The first two weeks, it was a flower that Jisung didn't recognize. The petals were such a pale yellow, they almost seemed to be white with a yellow tint. They were delicate, with almost scalloped edges, and they were beautiful as he stared at them floating in the water of the sink. He had been washing his face when the coughing began, and a few of the petals had scattered themselves from his mouth to the basin below. A strange feeling gripped his heart as he stared down at them, and Jisung nervously glanced at the door.

He was no fool. Though perhaps he did not know quite what the specific petals represented, he did know exactly what coughing up petals meant, and he also knew that if anyone knew, he would be removed from the Stray Kids lineup without question. Hurriedly, Jisung dipped his hands in the cool, soothing water and cupped the petals in them. The clear water dripped off his hands and ran down his thin wrist, tracing its way on his arm and finally finding a place soaked into his plaid shirt sleeve. The teenager parted his fingers slightly, allowing his heavy eyes to slip shut as he listened to the sound of the water draining from his hands. When he felt the wet petals cling pathetically to his palms, he opened them again.

Jisung gathered them tenderly in his right hand and wiped his left on his jeans, tearing off a few pieces of toilet paper. He wrapped the yellow petals in the thin material and tucked the package gently in a small space between an empty bottle of shampoo and the trash bin. His round eyes lingered on them for a moment before he pulled the drain on the sink, smiling brightly as he exited the bathroom and headed to the kitchen where "Chef Min" was participating in Chan's Kitchen.

"Took you long enough to come back," Minho complained, wiping his hands on a rag. Jisung shrugged without an apology, and the elder shook his head, "I need you to keep Hyunjin out of this kitchen. I swear he's trying to burn his jacket again."

"Once!" His fellow '00 liner defended from the doorway he seemed to have magically appeared in, panting heavily as he had apparently sprinted upon hearing the lackadaisical insult. A fond laugh broke from Minho's lips, and he blew an unappreciated kiss to the younger member. Chan caught Jisung's eye from by the stove and sent the teen an over-exaggerated wink. He slapped a hand over his mouth to cover his giggle, maneuvering past Minho to wrap an arm around Hyunjin's shoulder and herd him out of the kitchen, ignoring the slight catch in his breath and the way his chest ached even more than it had. While before it had been a slight pain with deep breaths, it seemed to throb now, and Jisung knew that it was best for him to stay out of that kitchen, "Jisung, you know I won't burn my jacket again, right?"

"Nah, not really, I don't," He poked the older's head and Hyunjin pouted, sitting on the floor next to Changbin.

"Hi, bed-stealer," He grumbled, and Changbin's cheeks colored.

"Just because you're mad the hyungs kicked you out of the kitchen doesn't mean you should bring up our dark history, Hyunjin," He threatened, but his teeth caught his bottom lip. Jisung shook his head at the pair and took a seat himself, stretching widely with a large yawn. He laid with his back flat on the floor and pushed all four limbs out, a socked foot squishing Jeongin's cheek.

"Hyung!" He cried in protest, pushing himself up on his forearms from where he had been doing his homework.

"Don't bully Jeongin!" Seungmin shouted, pulling the youngest into an unwilling hug. Jeongin groaned as he grabbed onto Changbin's foot, attempting to drag himself out of the embrace. Felix hardly glanced up from the video he was watching, simply shaking his head at the antics of the others. Jisung cackled at the chaos he had caused, sitting up and pressing his back against the textured wall. His eyes anxiously scanned the other members, and once he was certain none were looking at him, he pulled out his phone. With slightly shaking hands he opened an incognito tab, typing in the words that he knew were going to haunt him.

hanahaki disease

Chan's bright laughter from the kitchen forced a short cough from him. Jisung kept his mouth tightly closed and felt a single petal stick to his tongue. With a small grimace he swiped the flower petal from his tongue to his teeth, chewing it and swallowing without a second thought.

The second time the small coughs turned into a fit was days later. Jisung, Chan, and Changbin were up late into the night, putting together a new track. Jisung was leaning over his notebook, scrawling down the rap lyrics that flowed from him like water did a fountain, forceful and pleasant and he grinned in satisfaction as things just seemed to come together. Changbin was sitting beside him, seemingly struggling to find his own words and he forced himself to hold back his victorious laughter. It always seemed like the older two were finishing first, leaving him open to their teasing and bothering when they became bored of waiting. Chan had gotten up minutes before to make the three of them tea. It was late, and the others were asleep, but 3RACHA did not know the meaning of rest.

He was so absorbed in his lyrics that he did not notice the elder's return until Chan leaned over his back, placing a mug of steaming tea next to his notebook. Jisung froze, feeling the silver-haired man's chest press against his back as he hummed in his ear. He could see Chan's shadow on the table as he tilted his head, reading over what the brunet had written. His heart began to pound and the slightly-stuffy feeling in his chest heightened considerably, and he gasped suddenly. Chan drew back, placing a hand on his shoulder in concern but Jisung did not spare him or even Changbin a look as he stood, beginning his sprint to the bathroom in the same movement.

"Jisung! Are you okay?" The leader's concerned voice came from behind the locked door as he fell to his knees in front of the toilet bowl. Jisung prayed desperately that the fan he had flipped on with the light switch masked at least the intensity of his coughing fit as he grasped the porcelain. It was like a piercing pain stabbed at the base of his throat as he hacked, eyes blurred with tears. He dabbed at his running nose with the back of his hand as he continued to cough, counting the petals as they fell.

One...two...three...four...five...

Once the coughing had calmed down, he slumped the whole of his weight against the toilet, gasping sharply for breath. Jisung wiped at his teary eyes as he peered curiously at the petals. They were the same shape and roughly the same texture as they were before, but this time they seemed to take on a more purple-y hue, with pink veins running through then. He filed the information away for later, hoping to look into the particular flower more in the future. The buzzing in his ears began to fade and Jisung realized with a rush of panic that Chan was still trying to speak to him through the door, and that not only had Changbin followed, but he had awoken Hyunjin who was in the room next to the bathroom. He faked some retching sounds and flushed, watching with sad eyes as the beautiful petals, the only show of color in the toilet, disappeared forever.

Jisung cleared his throat as he squeezed some toothpaste onto his toothbrush, wetting it and beginning to brush before finally opening the door. He forced himself to meet Chan's worried eyes and smiled even through the foam. He removed the brush and slid his gaze over to Changbin and Hyunjin, the latter's face swollen with interrupted sleep.

"Sorry, I started to choke on my saliva and guess I coughed so much it triggered my gag reflex. Gross, right?" Hyunjin wrinkled his nose, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back into the bathroom as he began to take a few steps out.

"Not as gross as you talking and spraying toothpaste all over us."

"You're sure you're okay?" The leader pressed, and Jisung nodded.

"Just fine, hyung!"

Later, Jisung glanced back at the lyrics he had been writing so excitedly before the incident.

'a young love is not always a foolish one / and my heart is proof of that'

He scoffed at himself and tore the page from the notebook, shoving it under his mattress. He could rewrite better lyrics later.

• daffodil: unrequited love

The fourth week, Jisung found the petals to be wide, yellow, and something he knew quite well- Daffodils. He had once played a daffodil in a school play, and he fondly stroked the petals with a single finger as he stood in the practice room, alone. His eyes were wet and breathing seemed to hurt again, but he did not mind. Such pleasant things caused that sort of pain, and he would not trade the lovely moments for anything in the world. Jisung would gladly cough the petals until he was choking on his own blood and full flowers, if that was what was required of him.

Anything to stay with his members, and anything to stay with the one he loved.

The company could make up any sort of lie they wanted if he died. Jisung could not care less- There were more important things than staying alive, like living the time he had left happily. It would be enough to satisfy him. Besides, there was no guarantee he would die from the infection, his hours of research had taught him as much. Whether or not his affections were returned, some continued to live for many years. Jisung rarely became ill, so he simply hoped he would be able to fight off the worst of it.

As he got lost in his thoughts, the door to the practice room opened. He looked up quickly, but made no move to hide what was in his hand. The brunet knew it would be much too suspicious. Instead, he offered his signature grin to Chan, bouncing up to him and casually sliding his hands into his pockets as he did so. He failed to notice the single yellow petal flutter softly from his grip and to the ground, but he began to speak.

"So, hyung, how did the meeting go?" Jisung asked excitedly, and Chan's deep dimple made an appearance. Jisung's already-fragile heart skipped a beat. The leader wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close, and he took the opportunity to breathe in his dearest friend's scent- Deep cocoa, subdued orange, rice, and something inexplicably masculine. It was the same scent that he had come to love over his three years as a trainee, and it brought back so many memories that he could not even begin to describe them. He looked up into Chan's eyes and saw the elder smiling at him fondly. Jisung could just feel his lungs beginning to cloud and ache but he paid it no mind.

"It went well, Jisungie, really well. I'm really happy," Chan confessed, running a hand through his dyed hair.

"Good! Did ya stick it to the company bigwigs?" He questioned playfully, poking at the leader's neck. He shook his head, smile growing wider.

"That's what was so good- I didn't even have to try. For once they actually just listened to me," There was such a sense of satisfaction in his voice that Jisung felt pride flush inside of him. Good. Chan deserved that kind of respect. Sometimes it felt like only the trainees and their members showed Chan the respect he deserved, and he felt offended on his behalf all the time. Chan always thanked him but asked for him to not waste his energy.

"It's not a waste if it's for you, CB."

Before their conversation could continue, Minho and Felix stepped into the practice room, and immediately the oldest two members joined to talk about the finer points of his meeting. Jisung strolled over to his practice bag that he had dropped by the door and slipped the petals into the pocket. Felix was crouched on the ground, and he paid the dancer no mind as he pulled out his tumbler filled with jasmine tea. Thankfully, it was still fairly hot and he took a few sips, clearing his throat a bit between each drink. Minho eyed him and he shot the oldest a peace sign and a wink- In return, the elder shook his head and went back to his conversation. Felix suddenly stood up, holding something between two fingers.

"Is this a flower petal?" He asked curiously, and Jisung nearly choked on his tea. So much for blood and flowers being the death of me, Jisung thought as he rubbed his throat, taking carefully measured breaths. He moved forward, plucking it from the Australian's fingers, "Hey!"

"I got a flower from a fan on my way in the building, guess this must have dropped off it! Whoopsie~" Jisung smiled as he headed to the trash bin in the corner. He felt as though a part of him rotted as he watched the cheerful yellow petal disappear among all of the trash, but he did not show it, turning around to face the others, "So, Felix, you ready for rap practice or what?"

The fifth week, Jisung locked himself in the company bathroom as he hacked, feeling his lungs contract painfully. He felt like the room in his chest cavity was shrinking, and absently began to wonder if the sites he had read were wrong- What if the flowers did not only grow in your lungs, but if they in fact wrapped and tangled around your ribs, their roots digging into the muscles and becoming indistinguishable from your veins? What if they curled their way around your arteries and cut them off, no longer allowing blood to be pumped? Would he die, cold and corpselike before his heart even stopped beating?

The morbid thoughts sent a shiver through him, or perhaps it was just the illness. Either way, he could vividly imagine the situation and his fingers were itching to pull out a pen and write the lyrics that came to him, but instead they pressed into his arms with a bruising force as he cough cough coughed those cheerful yellow daffodil petals into the waiting bowl of water. The itching, tickling sensation in his throat was not subsiding, and it was accompanied by that deep-set ache, and he was starting to feel it in his bones. Jisung sniffled and moaned, hitting his head dully against the stall wall to try and distract himself. Soon enough the others would come looking for him, and he did not want them to know.

Did not need them to know. Jisung would be okay. Suffering was what idols did, right?

He laughed to himself, causing another harsh cough. Finally, the sixth petal dropped from his lips into his lap. Jisung watched as it flitted into his lap, and his lips remained parted as he breathed heavily. A dark red stain on the petal caught his attention and a groan tumbled from him. He grasped it and brought it back to his lips, tongue flicking out to lick the blood away. The salted taste made his mouth water and he threw himself forward, stomach wrenching as he vomited. The smell was acidic and made his eyes burn.

When all was said and done, he flushed the toilet yet again and left the stall, moving quickly so as to not be caught by his bandmates. He knew well that they would be searching for him by then, as a quick look at his phone told him he had become fifteen minutes late for the practice session. Even as he washed out his mouth, Jisung looked forlornly at the single daffodil petal he had crushed while puking. A single tear made its way down his rounded cheek and he wiped it away with his sleeve, checking the front of his hoodie to make sure he had not gotten any bile on it.

He cautiously placed the one ruined petal on the windowsill before exiting the bathroom. Jisung slid up his sleeve as he walked through the halls, clicking his pen and jotting down the lyrics on his arm as he increased his pace to a near-jog. The rapper hoped that they would not prod too much at his lateness if he at least showed up out of breath- It was not hard when it felt like there was no space left to breathe, anyhow. As he entered the room with apologies on his lips, his sleeve went back down the cover the lines he had written.

'it's always been a funny thing / unrequited love is not as sad as you made it sound to me'

• freesia: thoughtfulness

At the six week mark since his initial discovery, Jisung found himself confined to his bed, much too weak to leave it. It felt like everything had been sapped from him and his bones had been replaced with ice- A chill that rattled him from deep within. It had nothing to do with the disease, but rather his misfortune of getting sick after boasting to himself about his strong immune system. He supposed he deserved it, for thinking too highly of himself. Perhaps it was a divine being's way of telling him to not be too proud- To remind him that his condition was serious and that he should not be dealing with it as lightly as he had been.

As it was, Jisung was sick and Chan had kissed his sweaty forehead before leaving with all members but Minho for a schedule, and no matter how hard he tried to keep it in the teenager could not hold back the coughs. Minho wrapped an arm around his lower back and soothingly pet his hair after placing a bowl in front of him as thin purple petals tumbled from his lips. Some caught on his lip and tore as he tugged them away, sending a devastating feeling running through him.

Tears of embarrassment rather than pain rolled their way down flushed, fever-stained cheeks and Minho murmured soothing words close to his ear, a shattered expression clouding his face. Seeing such a thing forced a sob from his already-overwhelmed chest and the older pulled him into a hug, the warmth doing little to fight away the cold- But at least it was something. Jisung could hardly believe that he had been discovered that way, and that the dancer had not even questioned him, only provided him with what he needed. A bottle of water was pressed against his thigh and he had been promised hot barley tea when Minho felt comfortable enough to leave him alone.

"Jisung, just breathe, hyung is here," The words were coming from the wrong person but he so desperately wanted to hear them. Jisung clung to the older male as though he were his lifeline, the damned flower petals still dripping from his lips. His throat felt so raw from the weeks of coughing that he worried he would no longer be able to do his job properly. Jisung voice cracked with every other line and it had stressed him out so much. That was likely the biggest factor towards him falling ill. His swollen eyes wandered around his bedroom, spotting Seungmin's neat bed. For whatever reason, the sight of the cleaned space sent emotions racing through him, and instead of just coughing, he was sobbing, whines punctured with the croupy sound, "Oh, Jisung, it's okay..."

It wasn't and they both knew it, though Minho had yet to fully understand the whole of the situation.

Once Jisung had finished with the fit and had laid back into the mountain of pillows the dancer had prepared, Minho stood and grabbed the bowl of freesia petals. Jisung's fingers wrapped around his wrist, tugging him back,

"Throw them out the window please, hyung," His voice was rough and ragged, but the older simply nodded and slid the window open. Jisung felt a piece of him fly away with the flower petals in the wind.

When Minho returned with his promised barley tea and took a seat across from Jisung on the foot of the bed, the younger instantly knew there was no way to avoid the conversation as much as he wanted to. Besides, he knew it was best to have it when they could not be interrupted- He could not bear to see the faces of his teammates if they learned about his disease, much less if they found out who he had gotten it for. Even Minho knowing was such a large risk, and he felt apprehension prickle at his skin. The company couldn't find out, and he set a firm gaze to match the dancer's.

"You won't hate me no matter what hyung, right?" Jisung asked.

"Of course not. You're my dear friend- No matter who you're in love with, I promise, I could never hate you for it," Those were the words he spoke, but Jisung could hardly trust him. He had lived in shame his whole life, knowing he was abnormal, a sinner, disgusting- You name it, he had been called it. Jisung was considered to be the scum of the Earth by many, a pervert and a freak and hell, he'd been called a child molester a few time. As if liking men had anything to do with children. Minho sensed his disbelief, his hesitation, and he took the rapper's hands in his. The grip was solid, a comfort- Jisung wished he wasn't falling for it. He knew the truth, "Jisung. You can tell hyung anything."

"I'm gay," He spat out, and anger colored his tone, "I'm gay and it's wrong and it's gross and I know. I know, okay? I shouldn't even be allowed to room with anyone, right? I know. I know it's bad, you don't have to tell me, but don't lie to me and say you don't hate me for it. I can take you hating me, but lying is just too much Minho hyung. Don't lie."

His confession was met with silence, and Jisung tried to pull his hands back- Minho tightened his grip, and he whimpered fearfully.

"Oh no, Jisung, no, I'm not going to hurt you," Minho's voice was laced with regret, and he felt his hands being released as the older's arms instead wrapped around his shoulders. He was stiff in the hug but Minho rubbed a soothing circle into his back, "You're brave for telling me, you know that? Not just anyone can do that, especially not here. Just you know what? You're wrong. It's not gross or bad, and I definitely don't hate you for it. I'm sorry for not realizing it earlier, and for not realizing you were sick, either. You've been struggling all on your own, haven't you?"

Jisung fell asleep in Minho's arms, and when he woke up he found his room empty, save his tumbler and a sticky note that had Chan's signature worm-thing on it.

Feel better Jisungie! Hyung is waiting for you~ I left you jasmine tea before heading out again, I hope it's hot when you wake up still! Fighting~
-CB97 \^^/

Another petal fluttered from his lips.

The seventh week thankfully did not leave many moments for Chan to approach Jisung. After he healed up from his illness, the younger clung to Minho, the only one who knew the truth of his state, even if he was unaware of who it was. He had his suspicions of course, and Jisung was sure they were probably correct. Either way, he had no plans to confirm it. Jisung would rather just hang onto the elder and hide the thin purple petals together.

"Why do you treat them like they're so precious?" Minho asked curiously as they stepped into the street. Jisung's hands were wrapped loosely around them as they made their way towards the nearby fountain. It was fairly close to their dorm and a pretty piece. He liked to draw inspiration from it while writing lyrics every once in a while. At the elder's question, Jisung hummed lightly as tilted his head, looking at the glaring sun as though it had the answer he was looking for. Finally his gaze met Minho's, but an embarrassed laugh tore from him and he looked at his feet.

"Well, like...I know a lot of people hate them. They see them as a representation of something they can never have, or of their impending death, or a reminder that they're sick, right?" He scratched the back of his head, just below the beige beanie he wore, "But to me, I don't see them like that. Aren't they the physical form of my love for someone?"

Jisung looked at the passing cars as they walked, unwilling to see Minho's surely-pitying look.

"They're my love for someone important to me. How could I dislike them?" He asked, laughing again with cheeks that were dusted pink. The dancer shrugged, stretching his arms towards the sky.

"I guess when you put it like that, I sort of get it," He admitted, giving the younger an appreciative nod and smile, "What a way to look at things~ You're Jisungie alright!"

"Of course I am! Who else would I be, Minho hyung?" The duo stepped up to the fountain, the clear water spouting from the middle in multiple directions. The sounds of the crowd around them allowed Jisung to whisper something to himself before kneeling by the edge of the piece. He gently pressed his lips to his own hands and dropped the thin purple petals into the water. Jisung watched as they swirled around in the pool, eyes catching on the single petal that was stained with blood. Quickly, it was hit by the spray of one of the jets and it went under frantically. Once he saw it resurface, the bloodstain had been washed away.

It was an intimate shared moment between Minho and Jisung, just like every time they cleared away the signs of the latter's disease. Their fingers tangled loosely together as each individual spot of color separated from its initial group, until they laid all across the water's surface. Finally, Jisung sighed and turned away, leading Minho by their joined hands to a ramen shop they had passed on the way. As the condition worsened, so did his throat and he constantly wanted hot broths and drinks to help soothe it. Chan never questioned the meal requests, instead choosing to prepare them with a smile. Minho did not complain as they stepped into the small restaurant.

"I can pay this time. It's my treat, for you working so hard," Minho offered, and a smile lit up Jisung's previously mixed expression. As they sat at the table, Jisung pulled a pen out of his bag and spread out a napkin in front of him. He jotted down the quick lines he had come up with during their journey, "What's that?"

"Just some lyrics," The rapper clicked the pen shut and slid the paper material over.

'your thoughtfulness is really an enemy of the state / topple governments with that mind that never stops turning'

"What kind of metaphor is this?" Minho laughed, passing Jisung the napkin back. He shrugged casually and pocketed the lyrics for future use. Even he could admit they were pretty lame, but he hoped that he could find a place for them later.

• snapdragon: strength; deception

By the eighth week, Jisung had noticed Chan's increasing suspicions towards him. It felt as though the leader was keeping a closer eye on him than he ever had before, with fingertips brushing his shoulders and hair, always calling for his attention...Of course it made Jisung's condition all the worse, and his frequent bouts of excusing himself so he could effectively hack his lungs out were rather suspicious. Halves of yellow and pink snapdragon flowers poured from Jisung's parted lips agonizingly so, and every day he could feel it getting worse.

However, Jisung could not bring himself to mind it. He loved spending time with Chan, he loved being given special attention and affection, he loved everything about the elder and even if it hurt him, he could not pull himself away. Jisung was perhaps masochistic, but the pain was so beyond worth it. He could not think of it as anything else, because Chan was worth anything and everything and that pain was for him. Jisung would gladly cough until he lost his ability to breathe if it kept the leader happy and healthy.

It was a strange thing, he thought to himself as he made his way to the practice rooms. He knew that love was not meant to hurt- Jisung understood this logically. If it hurt, that generally would make it a negative thing. That was what Jisung had been taught. But when it came to such a situation, he could not help but think that perhaps what he learned through his life was not quite right. Maybe there was just this one thing that was okay to hurt. A small smile pulled at the corners of his lips as he shook his head, pushing the door open.

He was greeted by the sight of Minho, Chan, Jeongin, and Seungmin already warming up. They greeted him briefly as they continued their own stretches, and Jisung immediately joined in. He lifted his arms above his head, fingers pressed flat together as he slowly reached for the ground. He began to bounce his knees slightly, careful to never left them bend past the tips of his toes. Jisung was so focused on the stretch that he failed to notice Chan step by his side. The man placed his hands carefully above his hips and he jumped slightly.

The leader's resultant laugh made his heart pound and cheeks flush.

"Here Jisungie, just sway your torso now, with your arms hanging- Like an elephant trunk. Yeah?" Chan spoke softly in his ear and Jisung followed the instructions. The older kept his hands in place to help steady him and hummed, watching him from in the mirror. It seemed like it was the only sound Jisung could hear, the chatter of Minho with the maknaes distorting into almost nothing in the back of his mind. He could smell the familiar deep cocoa, subdued orange, rice and whatever it was that was so damn masculine, and it flooded his senses. Jisung followed the instructions, trying to hold back his coughing at the same time. Chan's fingertips pressed into his muscles, trying to get them to relax.

He felt like his ears would pop with the force but he instead released a small breath, standing back up and offering a grin to the leader. Jisung's heart jumped at Chan's affectionate smile back, leaning into the elder's touch as he patted his head. The rapper did not know if it made him strong or weak to find himself lost in his love's attention, but he didn't really care. Jisung pointedly ignored Minho's curious look towards him and instead he made his way towards Seungmin, wrapping an arm around the vocalist's neck.

"Hey, after practice today, should we watch a movie Seungminnie?"

Jisung was tired when Changbin stumbled upon him a week later. He had been coughing for twenty minutes straight, but no petals erupted from his lips. He could feel them building up in his throat but nothing came, and somehow he had found himself curled in a ball on the floor, side of his face pressed against the rough carpet as he simply tried to breathe. Jisung hadn't expected Changbin to find him like that, and clearly neither had the elder. There were a few moments of shocked silence on both ends before his fellow rapper dropped by his side, laying a careful hand on his shoulder.

"Jisung, are you alright?" Changbin's voice was coated with concern, and Jisung closed his eyes for a bit longer than a standard blink. He wanted to rest more than anything, but instead he pushed his way past the dizzying storm of emotions inside of him and offered the other a "you know" sort of look, accompanied by a half-hearted shrug. Jisung's mind was racing, trying to find a way to explain his strange behavior. What lie is there to even explain this? Changbin's eyes narrowed at his response, "Hey, seriously man. You haven't been yourself recently, and now I find you curled up like this? Come on, J.One."

He knew that the use of his 3RACHA name was supposed to evoke some sort of emotional response, a laugh maybe, but he only felt more exhausted at the words. Jisung didn't like hiding his condition, and while having Minho to rely on made it easier, he found himself constantly worrying. He wanted to tell Changbin the truth- How madly in love with Bang Chan he was, and how sick that was making him. But he knew that with each person he told, with each individual that held that knowledge, the chance of it getting back to the company was increased significantly. The teen simply couldn't risk it. He stared blankly ahead, lost in thought until Changbin's hand on his shoulder shook it, almost violently.

Jisung pushed himself back, glaring at his teammate.

"What was that for?"

"You totally spaced out," He defended, and Jisung noticed the tremor in his voice. Guilt was a deadly thing, and it pounded at his ears and made his neck ache. Or perhaps that was the strange position he had taken on the ground for so long. It didn't matter, because Changbin was honestly worried for him and Jisung wanted to make it go away. With a deep breath, Jisung built himself up to his ordinary smile and ran a hand through his messy hair, yawning. He stretched his arms out and arched his back, wincing at the series of pops. Changbin watched with a raised brow.

"Sorry hyung, I like totally fell asleep. I've been super tired since I got sick, like, a month ago. I guess I never got totally better before going back to the usual business, and our schedules have been totally crazy. I'm sorry if I worried you," Jisung sighed when he saw Changbin's lip get caught in his teeth and he hid the next cough in his elbow. Thankfully, there was no petal and he felt his body relax in relief. Still, it was clear the older was not convinced, and his eyes slid to the side as he tried to find the right words, "I appreciate you looking out me, seriously. But I'm okay. Don't stress yourself out over it, alright Changbin hyung?"

"But Jisung-" He began to protest, but cut himself off.

"What?"

"I just...Take care of yourself. No one wants to see you pass out like that time..." Suddenly, the older's nervous behavior made a lot more sense, and a warm affection filled him to the brim. Jisung loved his teammates more than anything, really. This time, his smile was genuine and he laughed, sitting back.

"That's what you've been worried about? Don't! I'm not gonna push myself too far past my limits again," Jisung promised. There were a few moments of silence after Changbin nodded, and he drew patterns on the floor with his fingertip. Finally, Jisung took a deep breath and spoke again, holding his arms open wide as he inclined his head, "Hey, I know you only like Felix and all, buuuuut..."

"God, shut up," Changbin grumbled, shaking his head in annoyance. He shoved at the younger's shoulder but in the same movement he leaned forward into the offered embrace, slipping his arms underneath Jisung's. The two friends sat there, simply breathing and feeling the pleasant weight of each other. Friends for life, Jisung had said once, and he had certainly meant it. They basked in each other's presence, the moment sweet and frankly, needed. Though Changbin did not have the slightest idea what Jisung was going through, he needed his friend's support, and even he had issues he wasn't sharing. They needed each other, and the hug was enough to satisfy them for at least a little while.

Later that day, Jisung jotted down quick lyrics in a notebook.

'I wonder which will last longer / your strength or my deception'

• white rose: purity

Jisung had not expected it all to topple so suddenly. It was a team dinner, everyone gathered around their sad excuse for a dining table. The table was filled with dishes of Chan and Minho's creation, to celebrate another meeting gone well. The smile that their leader had returned with had really stolen his breath, and made him light-headed. But it was in a pleasant way, and he hadn't hesitated to wrap his arms around the man's neck and squeeze tightly. Then he had spent the next hour-and-a-half playing with the others and especially keeping Hyunjin out of the kitchen, much to his same-aged-friend's offense. Felix had been the only one allowed to go in and out to alternate between helping and messing around with them.

The food was delicious and the dorm loud with laughter and animated conversations. The meal had been nearly over and the team was way too excited for the time of night, but Jisung was happy. It felt like all of the worries he had were pushed behind him, and he savored the moment. It had been so, so long since he had the opportunity to enjoy himself with them. They were always practicing, and when they were not practicing they were working, and if they were not working then Jisung was locked in a bathroom somewhere far away, trying to discreetly cough his petals and dispose of them properly. But those kinds of thoughts weren't with him that night and it had felt so freeing.

He had just taken a drink of water when he caught sight of Chan's deeply dimpled smile at the same time he threw his head back in a gorgeous laugh. Jisung was much too focused on the moment to even worry when he felt a tickle in his throat. Caught up in everything, he simply reached for a purple napkin and coughed into it, figuring he had simply swallowed the water wrong. He didn't even notice when he pulled the napkin away that there were blood-stained white petals laying in it- Until Jeongin's shaky voice interrupted all other conversations.

"J-Jisung hyung," His eyes were focused on the napkin in horror, and Jisung looked down at it at the same time as the others. His eyes widened and his lips parted- He could now taste the blood on them, and the room had gone deadly silent.

"Jisung," Chan started, his voice tight and immediately he stood, folding the napkin as he ran to the doorway, slipping on his shoes and slamming the door behind him even as Minho called out to him. If he wants to talk to me, he can come find me, Jisung thought, hot tears burning his cheeks as he escaped the dorm. His chest felt like it was bursting, and it hurt.

Inside the dorm, Minho had his hand on the handle of the front door, eyes locked with Chan's. The leader spoke, "You aren't surprised."

"There are some things people are willing to share with certain people," The dancer bit back, venom lacing his tone. His hands shook and he glared, "And if you don't let me go to him right now, there will be things you'll never know."

"His health concerns all of us, Minho, you had no right to keep it from me!" Chan argued, and he snorted, shaking is head in disbelief. Changbin herded the younger members away from the scene, lips pressed tightly together even as Jeongin and Seungmin showered him with countless questions. Hyunjin was oddly quiet, the whole atmosphere tense.

"I have the right to keep whatever he asks of me," Minho asserted and without further hesitation yanked the front door open, leaving without even looking back.

They did not return until much later that night, and Minho kept the younger pressed to his side, daring anyone to approach them with his expression. Jisung's swollen, red eyes were locked to the ground and in truth, no one knew quite what to say anyway. It was a situation no one had expected to come across, especially not as they prepared for their debut and it was...Bad. Every single one of them knew what Hanahaki disease was- It was not rare, exactly, though not common either. And they all knew what it could mean. But Jisung couldn't handle that conversation yet. When Minho had found him by the fountain, he had simply pulled him into a hug and let him cry. They hadn't discussed anything and he still did not want to.

Jisung slept in the dancer's bed with him that night, protected from the world.

The next morning, though, Minho woke him up with that look, and he knew it wasn't something he could avoid any longer. He still avoided their gazes as he went through him morning routine, brushing off Felix's worried hand and ignoring Hyunjin's prodding questions. It was new, though, when he coughed and freely allowed the white rose petals to tumble into his expecting hand. Jeongin looked positively horrified at the sight, but Jisung only smirked to himself (It was a strangely bitter one) and moved to the window, opening it and allowing them to be blown away in the wind. When he turned around, the whole of the team was staring at him and he searched desperately for Minho's strong eyes. They met and a wave of acceptance washed over him.

"Okay, okay, we can talk about it," Jisung was surprised by how nonchalant his voice came out, and secretly was grateful. It soothed the aching inside of him ever so slightly, "But there isn't much to say..."

"How long have you been like this?" Chan questioned softly. His eyes were heavy and sad.

"The petals? Going on three months, though I guess it got worse after that flu or cold I had a bit back," He replied honestly, and sat cross-legged on the floor. Jisung knew that the whole affair was going to become either an interrogation or a Q&A, and he wanted to at least be somewhat comfortable for it. The others followed suit, but Minho made his way to his side and held a hand out in support. Jisung thought back to the time of their first mission, when he was the one holding Minho's hand to help him time the beat of his first rap. A warm feeling filled him and he grasped the hand, smiling.

"Are you gonna die?" Seungmin blurted out before slapping a hand to his mouth, eyes wide and a bit wet. Jisung felt his heart break at the sight of his dear friend shaking, and Chan wrapped an arm around the teen's shoulder's.

"Has that been worrying you since last night?" The rapper asked gently. Seungmin nodded jerkily, and he offered a kind smile.

"It's alright, Seungmin, I'm still going to be here for quite a while, long enough to see you pin Jeongin against the mirror again, I'm sure!" He teased, ignoring the maknae's loud protests, "No, but really. Minho hyung and I went to the doctor a bit after he found out and the doctor said I contracted the non-deadly strain. So, it's all good! Smiles all around!"

He moved to get up, but Chan's serious look forced him to sit back down, looking at his fingers.

"Why didn't you tell us, Jisung?" His voice was not disappointed, or even angry- It was hurt, and confused, and it made him feel all the worse. It's not even fair. You have no idea what it's like. You have no idea that it's you, so stop looking at me like that. His breathing stuttered and anger pressed at his temples, making his head ache fiercely. Jisung flexed his fingers and clamped his jaw shut, trying to keep himself from saying something he would regret. He had absolutely no intentions of spilling his biggest secret right then and there. He didn't need to make things any worse than they already were, but the leader's gaze was burning past his skin and into his soul and Jisung pressed a hand to his mouth, wheezing a bit before coughing. The sound made everyone tense, but he simply dropped the petals into Minho's waiting hand and allowed the dancer to dispose of them outside of the window.

He looked up and found their eyes on him, and the anger burned brighter.

"This is why," Jisung started, deadly quiet, "Do you even realize how you're looking at me? It's like I'm going to break any second. I'm not. I'm just sick, okay? Plenty of people have an unrequited love, and I'm just unlucky enough for it to manifest like this. It doesn't matter. You know what white rose petals stand for? I looked it up. Purity. Nothing about this is wrong or bad but you're acting like it's, it's a horrible thing that needs to be taken care of. What are you gonna suggest, that I move on to make it go away? News flash, I don't want it to go away. And stop looking at the petals like they did something wrong!"

It was directed at Changbin, who blinked in surprise at being addressed so roughly.

"I like them, they represent my love for someone. It's poetic, right? You're a lyricist, you should understand it, shouldn't you?" Minho laid a calming hand on his thigh, and he leaned back, exhausted. Already, he was feeling regret, but he couldn't make his outburst go away. Chan was the next so speak.

"It's more than that," His eyes were sharp, locked onto Jisung in the calculating way he had fallen in love with, "Why are you ashamed to be in love with whoever it is? That's why you're so defensive. You don't think you should be."

It was a heavy blow that stole his breath, but he was tired of fearing his bandmate's reaction. Minho had been positive enough, and if he was about to make his friends hate him, then so be it. Then they weren't really my friends in the first place, but Jisung could not deny the thought of how wrong it was even as he said it. Minho's reassurances had not taken away his beliefs that he was wrong, only pacified them for a short time.

"You're right, I shouldn't be," The rapper's voice was heavy, "I'm in love with a man. I'm gay. It's terrible and disgusting, but whatever, because you all just have to know, right? You can't leave well enough alone? You can't let me suffer in peace, but you have to make it worse? Go ahead, make fun of me. Tell me how he'll never love me back. I already know."

Jisung allowed his words to register with the others, eyes daring them to say something. The silence was almost suffocating, but he felt a hollow victory inside as well. Finally, he had told his closest friends that secret, at least, and while it was damning it was also a relief. He would not longer have to worry about the things he said coming across as too weird or if his eyes lingered on a male too long. Jisung laid on Minho's side, head fitting in the space between his shoulder and neck, and distantly he wondered what it would have been like if he had fallen in love with the dancer instead. Would he still be sick like this, or would he have someone strong and beautiful by his side? Jisung nearly snorted- Either way, he was in love with Bang Chan and nothing could change that. The leader was the only one he wanted.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Hyunjin spoke suddenly, his thick lips twisted into a pout. He seemed almost nervous.

"Not at all," Seungmin was quick to agree, his sunshine smile unusually absent. It made Jisung feel almost guilty, as though he had done something wrong. He probably had.

"Jisung, please don't tell me you think about yourself like that," The heaviness in Chan's voice was hard to hear, and put a physical weight on Jisung's shoulders. He met the man's eyes, which were screaming something at him, but for the life of him, Jisung could not understand what. But whatever it was had him shivering, unwilling to keep the eye contact but afraid to lose it, "I don't ever want you to say things like that again. You're gay? So what. There is never anything wrong with that, ever. Don't think like that, please. We still love you. And for the record? Whoever this guy is seriously doesn't deserve you. You have the most amazing personality, a warm heart, you're beautiful, talented, dedicated- He's a fool for not liking you back."

Jisung cried with all of his members clinging to him, but on the inside he was imprinting new lyrics into his brain.

'when your love for me is so pure but / in such a different way will it even matter'

• hydrangea: heartlessness

Jisung hated hydrangea petals, he decided early on. Most of them were blue, with white and purple scattered in as well. Even as they floated atop the pool of sink water, reminding him of the primrose petals from so long ago, such negative emotions gripped him. He wanted nothing more than to rip the petals to pieces, to get rid of them where he would never have to see them again. As blood dripped from his partially-opened lips, curling into the water before dyeing it a pink color, Jisung felt the frustrated tears build up in his eyes. He had thought that, maybe, once he had told everyone the truth about his condition that it could perhaps be a bit easier.

Maybe he would finally be able to start...Finding something else to focus on. He treasured his feelings for Chan more than anything, but as time went by, the older boy had done nothing but hurt him. All of those light touches, the kind words and the special attention he received had just suddenly...Disappeared. As though Jisung suddenly wasn't worthy of them, and it made his heart hurt and his lungs ache and-

"Fuck," Jisung whimpered, feeling his already-weak knees give out on him. He took in a shaking breath, wincing at the loud bang of his left knee hitting the cabinet on the way down. Before he could even move positions, there was someone knocking at the door.

"Jisung? Are you alright in there?" It was Changbin, and he bit his lip harshly. He did not have the energy or the want to reply, "Jisung. If you don't answer me, I'm getting Chan hyung."

He wanted to argue, but Jisung was tired. He simply pressed his head against the hard wall, trying to forget the world around him even as the shockingly hot tears burned his cheeks. He wanted it all gone. Jisung was well lost in his own thoughts when Chan hesitantly opened the bathroom door, stepping inside and closing it just as quietly. He did not react when the older scanned the scene, finding bloodied water and petals in the sink, his wet face, his collapsed self. Jisung wanted to see what he would do. Will you avoid me again? If it was anyone else, wouldn't you have run in here instead of being all jumpy and unsure about it? What the fuck is your problem, hyung? But he didn't speak the poisonous words that created sickening patterns in his head, instead staring with glassy eyes at Chan's reflection in the mirror.

The leader's face was twisted up, the picture of concern with a layer of hesitation above it. His eyes were narrowed, attempting to find a way to approach the situation. It made them beautifully dark, and they shone like the most beautiful pieces of onyx one could find. His hand had come up to tug at a small piece of hair, nervously so. The picture was stunning enough to make the anger burn deeper in the pit of Jisung's stomach, but finally Chan crouched by his side, a sigh leaving his parted lips.

"What's wrong, Jisung?"

"A lot of things, hyung. Where do you want me to start?" He didn't expect himself to actually say it, and found himself equally as shocked as his friend when the words hit the tense air between them. Immediately, Chan's expression turned blank, and Jisung's heart cracked. What did I just mess up, what did I just do, why is he looking at me like that-

"I'll leave you to it, then."

Chan stood up, wiping his palms on his jeans and exiting much faster than he had arrived. Jisung could not stop himself from making the terrible whining sound that came after, and before long he found himself cradled in Minho's solid arms, surely bruising them with his tight grip.

The next week was terrible. Chan refused to look him in the eyes, and had grown even more distant than before. He did not even glance Jisung's way when the teen would double over in the living room, the damned blue, purple, and white petals scattering on the ground when there were too many to fit into his hands. He always left the younger for the other members to handle, causing friction between him and Minho, and leaving Changbin to try and diffuse the tension when they were all together. It was not affecting their work much- No, they were too determined to debut right for that to happen- But dorm life was suffocating for everyone involved.

Jisung rarely left his room unless he was made to. He did not want to face the terrible reality of his failing relationship with his precious leader, the man who had stolen his heart years before. 3RACHA no longer worked late into the night together- It was Chan staying up in his room, Jisung in the living room, and Changbin going between the two every so often to exchange ideas. He did not want to be the reason that Stray Kids and 3RACHA failed. It was his worst fear, and it felt like it was coming true.

"So why did you fall in love with Chan anyway, idiot?" He scolded himself, scrubbing at his swollen face. He was dead tired, having just gotten rid of another handful of petals from the window. It was near four a.m., and the moment he heard Chan return to his bedroom he had bolted for the bathroom, bladder full and lungs wheezing. Jisung simply hadn't wanted to run into the leader, and so he waited. Always...Waited.

"It's Chris?" Felix's deep voice startled him through the door, and he hit his head against the side of the cabinet. Jisung yanked the handle, rubbing his head as he stared at a wide-eyed Felix, "Shit, are you okay?"

"Why were you listening?" He demanded, attempting to ignore his trembling insides. Felix's face crumpled with guilt, and he shuffled his sock-covered foot on the ground.

"...I was worried. I just wanted to make sure you weren't hurting too much," His eyes became somewhat critical as he looked Jisung up and down, "I'm not sure you weren't lying about it being the not-deadly strain. You don't seem well these days, and I just...."

"Minho hyung would have called me out if I was lying, 'Lix. You know that," Jisung swallowed, opening his arms which Felix immediately fell into, skinny arms wrapping tightly around the rapper's back. He snuggled closely, his breath warm and Jisung sighed. Felix's heart was always so warm, and he worried about the team members more than most realized, "I'm sorry, I should have paid more attention to your feelings. Just, please Felix, don't tell anyone, okay? I haven't even told Minho hyung though I think he knows. For me, please."

"Doesn't it hurt when he treats you so distantly?" Felix whispered. Jisung's mind wandered back to the lyrics he had been penning before making his run to the restroom.

'these days I can't tell whose heartlessness is worse / is it the me who isn't honest, or the you who stays away?'

"You have no idea."

• sunflower: dedicated love

"Tell him, Sungie," Minho begged as they sat on the floor of the recording studio together. Jisung was gulping down the warm barley tea like his life depended on it- His throat's condition surely did. He gave the elder a judging look out of the corner of his eye before rolling them, but the man did not back down, his voice thick, "Just...Please. Seriously. I want you to be okay, and like this, it's not okay."

"Hyung, even if I did confess, do you think that would make this all go away? All that will happen is make the group dynamic worse, and it's already gone to hell since I told everyone I was sick- That's why I didn't want to in the first place. Once Chan hyung finds out it's him, then everyone else will too, and things will get even more uncomfortable for everyone. And especially he'll feel guilty, blame himself for my being sick. No way, not a chance in hell I'll let that happen," He paused only to drink more tea, wincing at his scratching throat, "Listen, Minho hyung, let's just forget it, okay? If you want to gossip about my nonexistent love life, do it with Felix. I'm tired of talking about it."

"Don't get an attitude with me," Minho raised a brow, sipping his water bottle, "I just want you to feel better. If you tell him, who knows, maybe you can start to recover. Didn't the doctor say that letting the other person know can trigger a regression of the disease?"

"Or make it worse," Jisung cheerily reminded, "I'd prefer to keep my unrequited love in the dark, thanks."

"Is it in the dark if everyone knows about it, though?" Jeongin asked curiously as he let himself into the studio, head tilted, "Before you freak out, I didn't hear who you were talking about, hyung. That's for you to tell if you want."

"No thanks," He grumbled, but affection fluttered in his heart for the maknae. He may reject his display of affections ninety-nine percent of the time, but Jeongin truly was a good friend.

"What petals are they this time? I noticed they were yellow but I couldn't get a good look at them," And that was another thing. Jeongin seemed genuinely curious about the ins and outs of his condition, showing interest in the petals and looking up what they meant. He, too, liked to go with Minho and Jisung to dispose of the petals in the fountain. He seemed to be the only one that truly understood how much they meant to Jisung, even when he had the spell of detesting them. He smiled fondly, reaching out to ruffle the boy's hair- He was quickly dodged, and Jisung pouted.

"They're sunflower petals. Before you asked, yes I looked. It can mean a dedicated love."

Minho scoffed, "Dedicated because even after all of this, you're more worried about him than yourself."

"You and I have different priorities, hyung."

"Clearly."

Two weeks later, Jisung had his head pressed against Felix's chest as the younger helped him clean the blood off the floor.

"I still don't believe you when you say it's not going to kill you," His deep voice was painfully sad, and Jisung felt a weak grin tug at his lips.

"I can't make you believe anything you don't want to," Felix hugged him again, and they sat on the floor together in silence. The blood and petals were a mess in Jisung's hand, which laid on the floor. It was the scene Chan walked into when he returned to the dorm. His eyebrows drew together in surprise, and Jisung turned his face away, burying it deeper in Felix's chest. The leader had paused in the doorway, shopping bags seemingly loose in his grip as he considered the situation. The rapper was not sure what Felix was doing, but whatever it was certainly had the man staying in place.

"Felix, can I talk to Jisung alone for a bit? I think there's some stuff we need to talk about," Chan's voice was unusually tight.

"Only if it's okay with him," Felix poked his back and Jisung sighed, nodding. If the man was finally ready to stop ignoring him, then he wanted to deal with whatever storm was coming his way. The younger gave him another squeeze and a meaningful look before leaving the two alone. Jisung set to finishing wiping up the blood and cheerful yellow petals, a small smile on his face at the sight of them. He allowed them to flutter from his palm onto the windowsill, waiting for Chan to speak.

"...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you there. I'm being a terrible leader, friend, and hyung. You deserve better than that."

"Yeah, I do," Jisung replied immediately, looking him straight in the eyes, "I don't get it. Why did you treat me like that, after saying all those nice things? I told you something that I wanted to keep secret, things about myself that I hate, and you say that they're okay. That everything is okay. And then you act like it's not. What am I supposed to do then...?"

"I should have been better," Chan reiterated, and he took a few steps forward, opening his arms, "I worried too much about you. I hate that you're sick, Sungie. I just want you to be better, and it scares me to see you sick. It felt like if I was near you, that I would lose you."

Jisung knew that he shouldn't have forgiven him so easily, but his heart broke at the sight of the Australian's empty and hopeful open arms. He fell into them, savoring the moment their skin touched and he could smell the man's natural scent, "I hate you hyung."

'a love forever dedicated just to you / i hate this fucking song'

• daisy: loyal love; i will never tell

It was Chan who confessed when full white daises choked Jisung one morning during practice. The trainers had yet to come in and it was just the eight members, doing their ordinary vocal warmups and exercises in the already-damp room. Jisung had been spitting out the lines to their most-recently finished song, Changbin listening by his side when suddenly his breath caught in his throat. The room went dead silent when the first cough sounded, a noise they had come to know well but still was off-putting all the same.

Jisung put his hand over his mouth, ready to catch whatever fell, but nothing came. He had only a moment to cock his head in confusion before his muscles contracted, and he found himself shoving his chair back, throat spasming as he tried to hack the flowers out. Seungmin looked positively terrified in the moment, even as Jisung raised a hand to show he was okay. Chan was at his side, rubbing a hand on his back soothingly as he exchanged worried looks with Minho. The man had just mouthed Should I get someone? when finally the bright white flowers dropped into his waiting hands. He stared at them with wide eyes.

"Oh," Jisung's voice was weak, "They're full."

"Everyone out," Chan suddenly ordered, "I need to talk to Jisung. If anyone asks, say I needed to scold him or something, okay? Go."

The members did as told, even as Jisung felt nerves alight in his body as he swallowed down what was probably too much water to be healthy. His stomach ached at the fullness and he dabbed at his eyes, trying to rid himself of the reflexively built-up moisture. He sniffled, looking at Chan whose cheeks were a light pink.

"Hyung?"

"Listen, I could be wrong. Like, really could be wrong, but it's something I've noticed for a while, and I just want to say something about it so listen, okay?" He wasn't making any sense, but the way he anxiously ran a hand through his hair made Jisung nod without question, "Jisung, I just..I feel like whenever you're near me, your coughing gets worse. Doesn't it? I'm not being conceited, am I?"

Jisung's heart stopped, and his cheeks were surely a bright red. He turned away. How do I even answer that?

"I noticed that, and that's why I tried to avoid you but that wasn't good for anyone, was it?" Chan's laugh was hollow, "But, Jisung, I need you to answer me. Is it me you love? Is it my fault you're sick like this? Please be honest. I'm begging you. As your leader and hyung, I need to know the real answer."

"Bullshit. You want to know so you can make fun of me," Jisung whispered. He felt Chan's hand grasp his own.

"No, I want to know so I can tell you that I like you too. Okay? Please stop being sick, Sungie. I love you, please believe me, and get better. I don't want to see you suffer anymore when the problem is me. I love you, Han Jisung."

And Jisung smiled.

'I promise I will never tell / the story of loyal love you hid for so long'