Archive of Our Own

Lee Minho is in a desert. 

He doesn’t know how he got there. It’s not an endless desert. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he knows. There are boundaries, edges, a definite end. He feels it. 

He finds himself near a ladder. A sturdy ‘A’ frame, slightly taller than himself. Beautiful and wooden, antique. He reaches for it. Solid. He pushes against it. Understands that it will support the weight of him for as long as he needs it.

He notices something, tucked underneath the legs, half buried in the sand. It’s a cube, the size of a medium packing box. It looks reflective and cloudy, like a mirror that’s been scrubbed with a wire brush. He walks around it, not sure what to make of it, but it comforts him- the way the ladder obscures the cube. An odd balance that grounds him in this strange place. 

He goes to dig the cube out when a bright flash catches the corner of his eye, and he hears faint thunder. At the horizon are the remnants of a strong storm. He knows that storm. Knows it was much closer to him at one point. He feels the ghosts of hard raindrops on his bare skin, cold and piercing. The thunderous boom echoing in the back of his brain, the harsh winds shoving him ever backwards. The pressure making it hard to breathe. But the storm is far away from him now and in a few blinks is nothing but a small blur. 

In the rain, he sees a horse looking at him. The horse doesn’t look phased by the thunder and lightning. Doesn’t seem scared that it is in the midst of the chaos. If anything the horse doesn’t realize there’s a storm on top of it. It continues to look at Minho, through Minho, past Minho.

Minho doesn’t know how to feel about the horse. He thinks he should feel sad, this feels like a goodbye. Neither of them do anything, but the more he looks at it, the less he feels about it. The less he feels in general. When the horse finally turns away from him, the storm moves on as well. When Minho can no longer see the two, he feels something loosen in his chest and his throat feels itchy. The itch worsens and when he finally coughs into his hands, he expects blood, but instead sees dying quaking grass.

🫁

He awakens, not in a vast desert with the distant sound of thunder, but in a stark white room with the sound of someone trying to muffle their crying. Mentally, he’s sludge, his body cement. Still, somehow he powers through to say, “Yah! Kim Seungmin. Your sobbing. Woke me up!” He haltingly whispers it more than anything, his breath not quite full, but he feels Seungmin move closer to his side.

“Hyung!” Seungmin is quick to quiet his sniffles.

He’s holding Minho’s hand limply and calling for the medical staff. 

“Hyung,” Seungmin sniffles, “are you in any pain?”

“The only. Pain I feel. Is your. Annoying voice. In my ears. Stop yelling. I’m right here. World’s. Worst. Roommate.” 

Minho blinks rapidly to try and clear his brain fog. He wants to sit up, but when he tries, Seungmin squeezes his hand tight and gently puts his hand on Minho’s shoulder.

“About to be ex-roommate now, you jerk. Hey, try not to move, Hyung. At least until someone gets here. You have a lot of equipment on you.”

“And inside you, if we want to get technical.” A new voice enters the room, a light happy voice of a woman.

“Doctor Song, he just woke up. I think he’s in pain and not telling me.” Seungmin steps away to make room for her.

“Why don’t we see. Minho-ssi, I’m going to move the bed up a little, let me know if you feel any discomfort.” She adjusts the head of the bed slowly, all the while monitoring the various machines he’s hooked up to. She folds down the blanket covering his torso and gently pulls down the front of his hospital gown. Aside from the monitoring wires taped to various places on his chest and the nasal cannula taped to his cheek, he has drainage tubes in both his sides. He shivers at the sight.

“Sorry! I’ll be quick, just going to check that everything is good with your incisions.” She does a quick look over and checks the amount of fluid collected and if there is any air leaking. She writes in his chart and quickly pulls up his gown and blanket. When she’s finished, she gives him a small smile.

“Your surgery went well! I got all the plant matter out. Luckily, the roots didn’t fully embed in your lungs, so I didn’t have to take too much tissue out. Right now everything looks good. Your lungs are fully inflated, no air leakage, so the water seal took. The fluid doesn’t look like there is any discoloration. We’re gonna keep you for the next seven days for observation. You’re going to have a lot of swelling and soreness for the next few months, so your main focus this week is rest. Since you know Yongbok, I assigned him as your registered respiratory therapist. He will be coming by later, and will give you some light exercises to make sure nothing clots. We’ll give you the full rundown when you’ve had more rest.”

She nods to him and Seungmin before she leaves.

“I only understood the words ‘lungs’ and ‘Yongbok’ and ‘rest.’ You aren’t actively dying anymore, so that's good, I guess.” Seungmin moves back to sit at his side and holds onto Minho’s wrist. 

Minho wants to say more, but his breathing is making him tired and he can’t keep his eyes open. His fingers twitch, and he feels Seungmin’s hand wrap around his. 

“Sleep, Hyung. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

🫁

Minho has never been to a desert. He’s only seen them in the movies. The vast empty sand dunes. The bright blue sky. The scorching heat. The occasional tall cacti with the oddly shaped arms. The bleached animal skulls. The impending doom as the ill equipped characters lose all sense of direction. 

But his desert is different. It looks endless, but it feels cozy. His sky is the sky at sunset, pinks and blues. He’s sitting comfortably, leaning against the ladder as he absent mindedly grabs handfuls of sand to let run between his fingers. 

Around him are shriveled up remains of what could have been flowers.

🫁

Minho was more or less sick for the past year. It was slow, until it wasn’t.

When Minho first started feeling shortness of breath he didn’t think anything of it. He just thought his allergies were going haywire. When it worsened, he went to the clinic for a check up, and that doctor thought it was his childhood asthma coming back. Then, when his coughing got worse, he was prescribed strong cough medicine mixed with mild painkillers.

He finally talked to Yongbok, hoping he had answers for his chronic cough. When Minho had a severe coughing fit in front of him, his handkerchief was full of blood and something else. Yongbok’s eyes widened. 

“Hyung, I’m taking you to see a specialist right now.”

🫁

Minho is in and out of sleep for a while, and when he’s out of sleep, he doesn’t stay awake for long. Sometimes, Seungmin is there. Sometimes it’s the nurses or Dr. Song checking in on him.  But this time, he’s by himself. He doesn’t feel the grogginess of lingering anesthesia, or the mental haze of heavy painkillers. He definitely feels the tightness of his chest and sides though, and the overall weakness of having his lungs scraped out. 

He takes stock of his body. There’s the oxygen tube taped to his face, tubes in his sides, an IV drip in his arm, a blood pressure monitor on his other arm, various tubes stuck to his chest, compression boots on his feet and calves, and a tube so he can pee. That’s a special hell.

Moving is… complicated. He tests what he can do, knowing he can’t move his arms much, so he flexes his fingers, his wrists. He moves his head slowly side to side, a dull ache on the back of his neck. He wants to move his feet and legs, but the boots squeeze and he doesn’t want to pull on anything attached. 

The room is dimly lit and cold, but he has his blankets, tucked up to his chin. There is a little daikon plushie tucked into his side. Probably Yongbok’s doing. His little cousin, ever the caretaker. Minho wonders if Yongbok being his RRT is some type of professional no no, something about not being able to unbiasedly administer care for family members. He knows Dr. Song hand picked his care team, so he’ll just have to trust her judgement. 

He lies in bed for a while, just listening to his breathing and the various beeps and hums of his monitors. He’s beginning to feel the dull ache in his sides and wonders how bruised and damaged his body actually is, when a sliver of light shines as the door slowly opens.

“If. You’ve come to. See if. I’m dead. You’re too. Late. I survived.”

He shifts his head as much as he can to see who it is.

“Damn, knew I should have pulled the plug the second you came out of surgery two days ago.”

Chan is armed with a pineapple juice and a pudding. “Doc said you can have small bites, if you can stomach it, but I’m technically cheating by giving you pudding.”

Minho makes a small noise and slowly raises his hand toward him.

“That’s. Why you. Are my. Fav-favorite hyung.” 

Chan rushes to his aide, gently batting down Minho’s hand.

“I’m your only hyung. And don’t move, save your strength.” Chan unwraps the pudding, and with a little on a wooden spoon, brings it to Minho’s mouth. 

“You are. Not feeding. Me.” Minho glares.

Chan sighs deep, but fondly. “Lee Minho. Do you want this pudding or not? Cuz I haven’t eaten a whole lot today and I am more than willing to make today my cheat day.” He makes a big show of bringing the spoon to his mouth.

“Some. Best friend. You are.” 

Chan waits. A smirk on his lips like he already won. Minho knows he did.

“Fine. But don’t. Make airplane. Noises.” Minho breathes out, as Chan makes train sounds instead. 

“Chugga chugga, chugga chugga, choo choo! All aboard the pudding express!” He giggles as he feigns missing Minho’s mouth a few times to make the spoon circle about. When he finally, very carefully, puts the spoon in Minho’s mouth, Minho bites down and worries at it a bit, to show his annoyance, but sighs at the taste. It’s thick and silky, just the right amount of sweetness.

“Thanks. Hyung.” He closes his eyes and sinks deeper into his pillow.

“Well it was either this or tofu for your first bite.” Chan muses.

“I had. Lung surgery. Not released. From prison.” Minho huffs.

“Weren’t you though?” Chan is feeding him spoonfuls normally, waiting on Minho to signal when he’s ready. It takes a while, with Minho slowly relishing each bite, refusing to admit how tired this is actually making him. He eats about half, shaking his head when Chan offers more. Chan gives him small sips of water, the bendy straw a bright pink, making him laugh breathlessly.

“I think someone is gonna come by soon with your real dinner, since you’re awake now. It’s almost 6:30.” Chan busies himself with cleaning up and making sure Minho is comfortable. He finally settles and turns on the tv to a random variety show, the guests eating and drinking and randomly dancing to songs when they are tipsy. The volume is low. Minho appreciates the relative silence.

“Hyung.”

“Yeah?” Chan doesn’t bother to turn his head, his eyes watching the tipsy idol try to explain the steps to hard choreography to the others on the show.

“I’m okay. Now. Stop worrying.” Minho moves his hand to cover Chan’s, which was near his side the entire time.

Chan closes his eyes and whispers, “I know. I know you are.” He gently squeezes Minho’s fingertips. “I know you will be.”

🫁

Chan was the first one he called when he got the official diagnosis.

“Stage three Hanahaki Disease. What does that mean, Min?” His voice tinny on the phone. There are also various sounds in the background- the rustling of clothing, a door shutting, the sound of the city streets.

When Minho first coughed up the seedheads, they were so small, he didn’t think anything of it. By the time Yongbok saw his blood soaked handkerchief, he was coughing up full stalks.  He didn’t understand what was happening to him, only that it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

“Hyung, what am I going to do?” Minho is still in a daze from the test results. Nothing makes sense. He heard of the disease before, but the majority of it comes from movies, where the tragic lead chooses to succumb to the suffocation of flower petals rather than confess their feelings. It’s all very romantic and poetically heart breaking. But this doesn’t feel romantic or poetic. This feels like a slow, painful death. 

“I’ll take care of everything. We’ll figure this out. We’ll get you better. Just wait for me.”

He’s alone in Dr. Song’s office. He didn’t even tell Yongbok about his emergency follow up appointment. The initial appointment was just questions and blood samples, breathing into various machines and sending the blood and grass filled mucus to a special lab. He was given an inhaler and was told to wait for a follow up email. When the email turned into a phone call an hour after he left the doctor’s office, he was told to come immediately for more tests and scans. He thought he could handle the results by himself, but then she showed him the x-rays. He didn’t understand the shadows in his lungs, the alarming amount of foliage that filled what was supposed to be an empty space. She explained the path of the flower’s roots, and when she recommended immediate surgery, the world seemed to turn white and a buzzing in his ears grew. Dr. Song was gentle when she asked if he wanted the surgery. Gentle when she asked if there was someone she should call to come and help him make the decision. He nodded absently mindedly and told her quietly that he would make the call. When she excused herself, he automatically called Chan.

“I’m on my way to you. I’m almost there.” He didn’t know how Chan was getting there. If he was driving or walking or taking public transport. It was a weird fixation point his brain wouldn’t let go of. He wanted to ask, but thinking was too hard right now. 

“Okay, hyung,” was all he said. He stayed on the line, not saying anything. When Chan finally got there, he was trying not to burst through the doors, and spotted Minho in the corner. He all but ran to him, immediately scooped him up and wrapped his arms around him.

“It’ll be okay, you’ll be okay Min. You’re gonna be okay.” Chan hugged tighter, whispering into his hair, as Dr. Song gently knocked on the door.

Chan grabbed Minho’s hand and listened to Dr. Song’s words, asked questions and took detailed notes. Chan put the stack of information pamphlets into his messenger bag, the prescription slips in his wallet, and pulled up their calendars to schedule to clear the next two months. When they finished with Dr. Song, they made their way to various offices to drop off last minute paperwork. Then they stopped by the pharmacy to fill the medications and while they were waiting, he made the necessary call to animal shelter where Minho worked, requesting indefinite medical leave. Then he was admitted, with the surgery scheduled at 5am the next morning.

Chan was about to call Seungmin when Minho shifted out of his haze. 

“No. No one else. Just you.” When Chan started to protest, Minho held firm. “No one else can know, promise me, Chan. Promise.”

Chan rubbed at his own face but made the promise. “Only me.”

🫁

Yongbok is the one who brings Minho his dinner, just past a quarter after seven, an unimpressive spread of boiled veggies, rice, mystery meat in a brown sauce, a milky looking broth, and a fruit cup that is mostly honeydew. Minho makes a face.

“Not everything can be Michelin level, Chef .” Yongbok teases as he adds salt, pepper, and chili flakes to taste.

“It doesn’t need to be gourmet, just edible, hyung.” After Yongbok takes a bite to make sure it isn’t too spicy, he goes to feed Min, who protests again.

“Is this going to be my life now?” Minho reluctantly opens his mouth for the spoon. The food is passable, but he realizes just how hungry he is and quickly swallows, opening his mouth for more.

“Just until you can raise your arms chest level. It’s barely been two days and you’re finally fully awake to eat something, so eat something, you big baby.” Seungmin is at the door, arms crossed, staring at both Chan and Yongbok. “I told you to call me if he woke up.”

“And I told you to go home and get some sleep. What are you doing back so soon?” Chan shuffles some chairs around to make room for all three of them.

“I took a shower, ate, and power napped. It’s called multitasking, hyung.”  Seungmin makes his way to the recliner where Chan was sitting, and settles on the armrest. They continue to playfully bicker as Yongbok feeds Minho by the spoonful. Eventually Minho slows his chewing and it’s becoming harder and harder to keep his eyes open. Yongbok gives him one last bite and makes him drink a full glass of water. 

“Alright you two, visiting hours are over. Which one of you is spending the night?” Yongbok turns to the couch with a stern look. Chan raises his hand, slightly pushing Seungmin off the arm rest. 

“I can sleep in the visitor’s lounge,” Seungmin says, trying to convince Chan to let him stay, but Minho slowly shakes his head.

“Go. Home. You. Dog.” He breathes out.

With a heavy sigh, Seungmin gets up and walks with Yongbok to the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow. You better call me, Chan .” Yongbok laughs at the blatant disrespect put on Chan’s name.

“When you’re more rested, Dr. Song and I will stop by to go over your care routine. If you feel strong enough tomorrow, we can start your walks, but we definitely need to start your breathing exercises. Just don’t push yourself.” Yongbok smiles and waves goodbye to them and pushes Seungmin out the door.

Chan turns down the lights and pulls out the armchair and gets ready to turn in. The tv screen is dimmed and is now on some music show. The pop songs are a distant murmur.

“You broke. Your promise.” Minho says into the soft night. Chan sighs.

“I didn’t tell him, Min. He found the pamphlets in my bag.” He checks Minho’s blankets, fluffs his pillow and sets out glasses of water for both of them. “You suddenly vanishing made him ask questions I wasn’t allowed to answer.” Once he’s satisfied that Minho is as comfortable as he’s gonna get, Chan finally lies down and faces Minho. The glint of the tv distorting his features.

Minho groans. “I didn’t. Even tell. My parents.”

“I think Yongbok might have mentioned to them that you were in the hospital, but didn’t specify why. I think he was able to spin that you just had a sudden allergy attack. But you have to tell them something. You have to tell the people you love something. You’re not allowed to hide your words anymore.” With that, they let the silence linger and Minho falls asleep to the sound of Chan’s snoring. 

🫁

In hindsight, Minho could have, theoretically, easily avoided surgery if he just confessed early enough. Said the words he was in denial about. But that would mean baring his soul. That would mean making the one he cares for most in the world uncomfortable. Putting them in an impossible position. And Minho couldn’t have that. Couldn’t be the one to cause pain to someone he supposedly loved. Couldn’t force the person to love him back, just so he could live. 

In reality, the disease doesn’t work like that. The media makes it out to be some jilted lover disease. That it’s the other person’s fault that you’re dying. They didn’t love you back, so you grew a bouquet of flowers in your lungs, and slowly suffocated. The love you held for them fully consumed you. You breathed your last breath, knowing that you loved, but weren’t loved in return. It’s supposed to be heroic, somehow. 

In real life Hanahaki is the disease that manifests from things left unsaid. It isn’t always about love. Sometimes it’s about not admitting that you hate how your roommate leaves the dishes in the sink for days, or how you hate when your parents post the ugliest pictures on social media, or how you should demand a raise and ask for time off, but don’t. It’s about suppressing your feelings, thoughts, and emotions to the point of self destruction. The pamphlets say the statistics around Hanahaki are greatly skewed, because of the shame evolved around getting treatment. In its early stages, it can be reversed. Talk your feelings out, the flower petals will disintegrate, cough out some phlegm and you’re golden. A few days of over the counter decongestants and it’s like a bad chest cold. Other stages need medical intervention.

Stage one: just flower petals. Talk about your feelings. Problem solved. No side effects.

Stage two: the full flower plant. Still reversible just by talking your feelings out, but needs to be paired with a strong inhaler that acts like a herbicide. Side effects may include dizziness and nausea, severe cases have reported mild lung scarring.

Stage three: roots begin to form and become embedded. This is the point of no return. This can’t be reversed just by talking, though talking does diminish the plant matter significantly. Talking while paired with strong medications to expel the plants. There is still a chance the roots will still take hold. Should you choose not to express your feelings, the roots rip into your lungs. This requires immediate surgery to remove the plant matter, intense medication to prevent the further spread of the plant, and physical and talk therapy. This surgery will result in the removal of the suppressed feelings. Depending on the severity of the rooting, you may have to take medication for the rest of your life. Severe cases may require partial to full lung transplantation. Physical side effects may include decreased lung capacity and upper body mobility issues due to scarring. In some cases, mental side effects result in temporary to permanent amnesia regarding the other party, i.e, complete mental erasure of not only the suppressed feelings, but also the person(s) you have the suppressed feelings towards. Example: You not only forget your feelings of anger towards said person, you forget why you were mad, or that you were ever angry in the first place. In severe cases you forget the person entirely.

Stage four: the plant is not only deeply rooted, but has spread beyond lungs. This stage is terminal. As this stage progresses rapidly, from a few days to a few hours, sometimes even minutes, there is nothing that can be done. Palliative care is suggested, if caught in time.

🫁

The rest of the hospital stay is thankfully uneventful. Chan and Seungmin take turns staying the night and trade off during the day. Yongbok and Dr. Song come by on day three to go over his hospital stay recovery plan. He has to do coughing and deep breathing exercises every hour he is awake. He also walks around his room every two hours for ten minutes. It’s a whole production to move from one corner to the next. Especially with all the drainage bags attached to various parts of his body. On day four, he can lift his arms without pain, and somewhat feed himself. By day five, his lungs are no longer leaking air and remove the tubes in his sides. He’s also able to go to the ensuite bathroom unsupervised. By day six, Yongbok has him walking the short hallway to the nurses station every two hours, and gentle arm stretches three times a day. They go over his deep breathing exercises and he’s able to make longer conversions before completely feeling winded. He still needed his nasal cannula, though. By day 7, Dr. Song gives him the all clear to move to the medical rehab facility, where Yongbok is primarily based. He’s released at eleven in the morning and Chan and Seungmin wheel him down to Chan’s car. 

The facility isn’t too far from the hospital. He’s told that he’s sharing a room. His roommate, one Seo Changbin, is also recovering from Hanahaki surgery, though a milder case than Minho’s. He’s currently at the group therapy session, and will be back to meet them shortly. Chan is taking care of the paperwork, while Seungmin helps him get settled into the pulmonary care wing, his temporary home for the next month or so. 

He settles into the bed as Seungmin is putting away Minho’s clothes, when Yongbok gently knocks on the doorframe. He enters with shiny balloons that say “GET WELL SOON” and a carrot plushie.

“From your parents. I convinced them not to send you flowers.” Yongbok smiles sheepishly. 

He places the balloons in the corner and stands near the wall, where a white board calendar that has Minho’s name in capital letters. 

“Thanks for talking to them, Bokkah. And for… not giving the specifics.” Minho takes the carrot and notices a zipper. He unzips it to reveal a bunny. He blinks rapidly at it. When Chan enters the room, Minho immediately shows it to him.

“Hyung! Look!” He thrusts the bunny with carrot ears in Chan’s face.

“Aww cute!” Chan tugs at the carrot ears as he places paperwork on Minho’s night table. “What are you gonna name him?”

“I dub thee Palli. Short for Palliative Hoppington Rhinosan Lee. Esquire. The third.” Minho deadpans.

“Min… I swear.” Yongbook growls as he writes the names of various medications on the white board, as well as filling out the schedules of the days. He turns fully to Minho and taps the white board.

“Alright, gang. Welcome to my Kingdom. Strap in and strap up, cuz here’s how the next two weeks are gonna go starting tomorrow.” Yongbok has rainbow coded Minho’s next two weeks: talk and physical therapies, breathing exercises, walks, eating times. He even blocks out time for when Minho is to shower and go to the bathroom. Chan is taking notes and Seungmin is putting reminders in his phone. Yongbok also put color coded times of when Chan and Seungmin are allowed to be there. Minho shifts uncomfortably in the bed.

“Spit it out, Minho-yah.” Of course Chan clocks Minho’s feelings. They all wait patiently but don’t look directly at him. The least they can do is not demand direct eye contact from him.

He takes a big breath. Then another. Then another. He sees one corner of Yongbok’s mouth turn up. “It’s a lot, all this… attention. Not that I don’t appreciate it, but you’ve already sacrificed a lot over the last week. You’re not even scheduled to work today, Bokkah.” He takes another big breath and closes his eyes to focus on his breathing and to avoid their fond gazes.

“Literally my job, Minho hyung. But even if I’m off, I’ll still be here for you.” He hears more scratches of the marker on the white board. Yongbok is probably drawing silly animal doodles just to make it more annoying.

“Min-” Chan starts, but Seungmin cuts him off.

“Don’t think for a moment I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart, demon cat. I refuse to look for a new roommate. And you’re still paying the full amount of your rent for the next two months.” 

Minho slowly opens his eyes, only to be met by Seungmin’s cold, murderous resting bitch face. “Ah Kim Seungmin, the only one I can depend on.” 

Their staring contest is interrupted by rapid high pitched giggles coming closer and closer to the room, accompanied by a deep halting laugh.

“-And then his dumb, ferret looking ass slams into the revolving glass door-” The two men burst into laughter so loud that Minho jumps. The two men are mid step into the room, when they notice the other four people in the room.

“Ah hahahhahaa- Oh shit.” The one with the high pitched laugh immediately bows at the waist, still stifling his giggles. He is alarmingly built, his biceps bulging. 

The other one startles, his eyes wide, his lips form a small “o.” He’s attempting to back out with his hands in front of his face repeatedly mumbling “sorrysorrysorry,” and immediately backs into the door frame.

While Minho, Chan, and Seungmin are still processing the scene, Yongbok laughs deeply and walks towards the two, who are still in their various states of hiding. He grabs their hands and pulls them into the room to make proper introductions.

“Minho hyung, this is your new roommate, Seo Changbin. Changbin hyung, this is your new roommate Lee Minho.” The one with the muscles bows again, red in the face. 

“Minho-shii. Pleasure to meet you.” His face down, clearly embarrassed. Yongbok forces the other one into a deep bow, pushing down on the back of his head. 

“And this terror in chipmunk form is Han Jisung. Jisung works here. Kinda. Mostly he’s Changbin hyung’s bestie.” Yongbok smirks. 

“Yah! Jisung hyung to you, you chicken!” He’s trying to straighten up, but Yongbok is still holding his head down and laughing. “I’m your senior, 15 !” Jisung huffs out.

“By like, three minutes, 14 !” Yongbok releases his hold suddenly, causing Jisung to shoot up so fast that he stumbles back. Changbin catches him right before he falls. 

“That still means I’m older than you! RESPECT ME!” Jisung puffs his chest, trying to look intimidating, but fails miserably as he has to look up to meet Yongbok’s eyes. There’s not much of a height difference between the two, but then Yongbok puffs his chest and stretches his neck and everyone breaks into laughter. 

Chan is soundlessly laughing and Seungmin has a look of bewilderment as Minho slowly stands and bow gently from his neck. “Nice to meet you. Changbin-shii, Jisung-shii,” then he looks towards Chan.

“Ah, right. I’m Bang Chan, and this is Kim Seungmin. Friends of Minho-yah. We’ll be here from time to time, as he recovers.” Chan is all dimples.

“We should let you settle in, we can chill in the common area-” Changbin is already trying to back out of the room, when Minho cuts him off.

“Please, this is your room as well.” He sits back on his bed, and gestures to the other two to pull up a chair as well. “Yongbokkie was just going over my schedule.” 

“I see that he’s making yours look like a unicorn threw up on it, too.” Changbin points to his calendar across the room.

“Hey! Color helps you remember and retain .” He pouts as he grabs a green marker.

“Yes, I’ll forever associate orange with scheduled bowel movements.” Changbin ducks as a marker whizzes by his head. Yongbok’s face instantaneously morphs from a smile to a sneer. 

“See if I help you get back to your benching goals, you swine.” He sticks his tongue out.

“Oh, that reminds me, look what I can do now!” Changbin raises his left arm above his head and straightens it. He has a slightly pained look as he holds the position. 

“Oh, that’s fantastic, Binnie hyung!” Yongbok goes over to him to gently correct his form. Just as he puts his hands on Changbin’s arm, Changbin moves his arm into a bicep flex. Jisung joins in, turning sideways and flexing his arms, making his hands into the form of a heart. Yongbok rolls his eyes, but playfully squeezes Changbin’s muscle. Chan nearly chokes from his laughter, while Seungmin rubs at his temples. Minho is shaking his head, but clearly amused.

“Oh god, is this my life now?” Seungmin groans, but is smiling. It’s a welcome giddiness from the greyness of the past week.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Kim Seungmin-shii, we’re a fucking delight.” Han quips as Changbin stops flexing and rubs tenderly at his left side. Han hands him an inhaler and Changbin takes a calculated puff. Yongbok reflexively places his hands on strategic parts of Changbin’s back and side.

“Good, hyung! Hold. Now breathe out. One more.” He instructs as Changbin breathes out, moving his palms to feel the expansion of Changbin’s back. “Now give me three big coughs.”

Minho watches as Yongbok transforms into Lee Yongbok: Registered Respiratory Therapist , right before his eyes. “You’re a good nurse, BokBok.”

“Not a nurse, but thank you. Getting people to breathe properly is my passion.” He says in a high pitched funny voice. Changbin pats his hands, and nods a thank you as Yongbok returns his attention to the calendar. 

As Yongbok goes over the next two weeks, Changbin and Jisung add in commentary here and there: group therapy is more about the exercise of talking. Allowing you to freely express what you need to express. Individual therapy is mostly a crying fest, but also gives a lot of homework in the form of a journal- where Minho is to write out everything rather than keeping it inside, so as to not relapse. Binnie pulls out his journal to show Minho, a A4 sized black hard cover decorated with Hello Kitty stickers. Its pages thick with his words, drawings, random things taped to the pages. Though the individual therapies are tailored to each patient, everyone has a journal. He tells Minho not to hold back, as the journaling greatly helped him heal. There is group stretching five times a day, and group walks around the compound three times a day, usually following the end of each meal time. Of course Minho will be doing the majority of his PT on his own, but is encouraged to join the group, as to establish a sense of Community with a capital C.

As Yongbok continues, Minho's mind wanders. It’s a lot to retain, and he’s beginning to understand why the calendars are colorful. He’s grateful to Chan and Seungmin who will undoubtedly remind him of his schedule. He finds his eyes wandering around the room and suddenly he’s locked in a gaze with Jisung, who is just staring at him. Neither of them look away, and Minho barely hears Yongbok’s voice calling for him. 

“Aye! Minho hyung! Did you hear me?” He snaps his fingers, playfully.

“I stopped listening to you ten minutes ago.” Minho says, not looking away from Jisung.

“What did you say you do here, Jisung-shii?”

“Oh, um…” Jisung finally averts his eyes towards Chanbin, who raises an eyebrow.

‘He’s actually making a documentary on Hanahaki. Interviews the patients and sometimes tapes various activities. He’s been following a few patients and doctors for years. But he’s been at this facility for what, a year and a half?” Changbin tilts his head as he does his calculations. 

“Yeah, about that long.” Jisung ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck.

Minho looks stricken. He doesn’t want his private life displayed on a big screen.

“All with permission of course! And only if the person approaches me about wanting to be in the film. And if at any moment someone wants to back out of the film, they absolutely can! It’s all planned in advance and only a few times a week do I do documentary stuff, all the other times I’m just here, helping out.” Jisung is babbling and turning redder by the minute.

“He’s actually our website and social media manager. He’s pretty good with design and IT stuff.” Yongbok adds.

Minho eyes him and just blurts out “Are you one of those people who have a Hanahaki fetish?”

Changbin and Yongbok just lose it. Changbin doubles over while Yongbok claps and crumples to the floor. Chan and Seungmin turn to stare at Minho, then back at Jisung.

“No! God no. Fuck no. Absolutely not.” Jisung is bright red and looks like a small rodent backed into a corner. Minho laughs then, a deep unhinged laugh, then he doubles over in pain.

“Ah. Ah! Fu- FUCK!” and Yongbok is on his feet, as Chan and Seungmin reach for him. Yongbok gently pushes him down on the bed, grabbing the inhaler amongst the various pill bottles. Chan and Seungmin, gently but firmly hold him, so he doesn’t curl into himself. Yongbok shoves the inhaler into Minho’s mouth and counts to three as he pushes the canister down. He counts again, as Chan moves Minho’s hand to his own chest, timing his own breathing to Yongbok’s counts. As Minho’s lungs stop spasming, Yongbok gives another puff, and Seungmin hides his face in Minho’s hand. 

Jisung looks tiny and Changbin is holding his hand. During the commotion, they both stood up and backed away towards the door. Yongbok is fastening a nasal cannula to Minho as he talks Minho through his breathing exercises.

“I’m- I’m so sor-sorry!’ Jisung sounds close to tears. “I di-didn’t mean-” He leans into Changbin, who puts his arm around Jisung’s small waist. 

“It’s okay, Ji. It’s not your fault. But maybe that’s enough excitement for today.” Yongbok says as he checks Minho stitches to make sure nothing burst. 

Minho is prone on the bed, but makes his voice loud enough in the quiet room. 

“Worth. It.” He wheezes. “Ten. Out of ten. Would get. Hanahaki again. Just to see. Jisung’s face. Freeze like that.”

And just like that the tension is broken. Jisung and Changbin visibly relax, while Chan and Seungmin sit back down. “You haven’t laughed like that in a long time, Min-ah.” Chan runs his hands through Minho’s hair, smoothing back strands on his forehead.

“Years, I think.” Seungmin offers, gently smiling as he beckons Changbin and Jisung to sit back down. “We have another hour of visiting, just stay Jisung.” 

Yongbok smiles. “Okay, one more hour, then it’s down time for you both.” 

Minho listens, focusing on his breathing as the group talks about anything and everything. He marvels at how easily they joked with another, quickly finding connections. He drifts asleep to the gentle talking surrounding him.

🫁

Minho wakes to Changbin opening the curtains. The morning light floods the room with a soft golden glow. The clock reads 6:30 am. He makes a pained noise as he tightens his muscles into a shaky stretch.

“Oh hey, sorry didn’t mean to wake you. It’s just the morning light is nice and I like being one of the first ones up to get breakfast and take a walk by myself. If you’d like, I can grab you a plate and bring it back to you, or if you feel up to it, you can eat with me in the dining area.” 

No matter how badly Minho wants to go back to sleep, the rainbow colored reminders on his chart tell him he should get up. He grabs the railing on the side of the bed and slowly shuffles out of bed. He groans as he balances to slip his feet into his slippers. 

“Never realized how much I use my chest muscles in my everyday life. Jesus.” Minho sways a little as he straightens up, and mentally prepares himself to walk to the dining hall.

Changbin chuckles and offers his arm for support. The hall is farther than the little walks Yongbok had him do last week. He feels bad about how slow he is and how he has to take a few stops to catch his breath.

“Don’t worry about it, hyung. Take all the time you need.”

“Hyung?” Minho turns to face Changbin.

“Oh, uh- sorry, Minho-shii. Just slipped out.” Changbin bows his head in apology. Minho playfully flicks his forehead. 

“None of that. Hyung is fine. I mean we’re living together for the next month or so-” He grabs onto Changbin’s forearm again.

When they get to the dining area, Minho is slightly sweating. Changbin makes him sit at the table to rest and goes to get their food. There are a few other people there, but mostly it’s the night shift employees waiting for the day shift to arrive. 

Changbin comes back with rice, pork stew, fruit cups, pastries and some hot water and juice on a rolling cart. Minho can’t help but laugh as Changbin gets embarrassed about not being able to carry anything over a few pounds, and tries not to make a pained face as he passes out the various dishes.

“I’d give my left nut for a coffee. This no caffeine thing is gonna kill me.” Minho says as he sips on his hot water.

“You’ll get used to it. Your body is just detoxing. Do you still get headaches?” Changbin cuts a banana and places some near Minho.

“I mean everything just kinda hurts anyways, but I did get dizzy a lot.” Minho is careful as he begins to eat his stew. It’s a slow process as his chest still feels tight.

Changbin nods. They fall silent as they focus on eating. Minho begins to understand why Changbin says he has a solo morning routine. The windows are open and the crisp air is nice, the sounds of the sleepy neighborhood the facility is tucked away in, is calming. 

Minho takes one last bite and leans back, patting his belly. 

“The food here is not bad, might gain my appetite back.”

Chanbin chuckles as he pats his own belly. “Don’t think I ever lost mine. They told me that after surgery, I woke up screaming ‘I’m hungry.’ Hyunjin had to bribe me with bites of banana to shut me up.”

“Hyunjin?” Minho raises an eyebrow. He knows that name somehow. 

“Oh yeah, you haven’t met him yet have you? He’s one of the therapists here. I think you’re one of his patients. Dr. Hwang?” 

Dr. Hwang Hyunjin in bold yellow letters show up in Minho’s mind. 

“I have my first session with him after lunch, I think. He was with you when you woke up from your surgery?”

“Uh, he’s my partner- speak of the devil.” Minho follows Changbin’s gaze and sees a tall man with glasses tucked into the neckline of his royal blue scrubs, carrying a white doctor’s coat. He is scanning the hall and smiles deeply when he sees Changbin. He walks over, already extending his hand.

“Hi wifey, sorry I’m late.” He bends down and plants a gentle kiss on Changbin’s lips. Changbin grins and Minho can’t help noticing the look of adoration in his eyes.

“No worries, I had a breakfast buddy. Jinnie-yah, this is Minho hyung, my roommate.” 

Hyunjin takes a seat at the table and then grabs a half eaten pastry off of Changbin’s plate.

“Hi,” he says between bites.

“I’m your one thirty.” Minho smirks as Hyunjin’s eyes widen and he immediately stands and bows deep from the waist.

“My apologies, Minho-shii. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I didn’t reali-” Minho laughs at the sudden formality. 

“Don’t worry about it. We can formally meet later. Right now just eat.”

Hyunjin sits, glaring at Changbin, who is trying his best not to laugh.

“HMPH!” He huffs at Changbin. “Sorry for my boyfriend’s lack of manners.” He tells Minho, and turns to Changbin. “This is all Jisung’s fault, I know it.” 

Changbin laughs at that, as he sets more food in front of Hyunjin. 

“You’re the one who introduced us, so wouldn't it really be your fault?” He dodges as Hyunjin playfully tries to slap his shoulder. 

“Yah! Yongbok-ah said careful with sudden movements! I’m still swollen!” Changbin rubs his left side, gingerly. He pouts ridiculously at Hyunjin, who fondly smiles.

“Nothing but a big baby. I should feel sorry for you, Minho-shii. You have put up with him for the next few weeks. But then again, I live with him.” He pinches Changbin’s lips together.

“Yh ga eh or mif, ae eee!” Changbin hums through his nose.

“Yes, yes. For life. But I still better get my ring. Cartier Cushion Trinity. Just. Saying.” Hyunjin shakes Changbin’s lips before letting go. “Alright, yeobo. I gotta go prepare for the day. I’ll see you at lunch? Minho-shii, I look forward to our progress together.” He grabs the last pastry and a juice box, and makes his way to his office. 

Minho stares at Changbin as he begins to clean up their dishes. Together, they bring the dishes to the cleaning station and head back to their room. Changbin offers his arm and Minho shuffles close to his side.

“It had nothing to do with him. My Hanahaki. I tell him everything. I couldn’t keep a secret from him, even if I tried.”

“Who did you keep the secret from?” Minho asks and instantly waves his hand in front of his face as if to erase the question.

“No, no. It’s okay. It’s good to talk. It helps with the healing process.” Changbin assures him, meeting his eyes. “It was my sister. I am… not fond of her husband, or soon to be ex husband now. I found out he was cheating on her, but I was afraid to tell her. Actually no, that isn’t true. I was afraid she wouldn’t believe me. She’s pregnant. I thought it would have caused a lot of problems for her.” Changbin smiles a sad smile and shakes his head. “In the end, it just caused a lot of problems for me instead. I almost lost Jinnie, too.”

“How did you find out? I mean other than coughing up petals.” 

“I collapsed at the gym. Jin and I had been fighting for a while, saying I needed to tell her what I knew. I told him it wasn’t my place or some bullshit. I went to the gym to clear my head, and then got pinned while I was benching. It wasn’t a weight I couldn’t handle- it was just the bar, but a lot of reps. Then all of a sudden it was hard to breathe and my arms gave out, and the bar slammed into me. I passed out apparently. Luckily, Jisung was with me. He lifted the bar off my chest and took me to the hospital to make sure I didn’t break any ribs. When they showed me the x-rays, I called my sister. She came to the hospital and I talked to her. The more I talked to her, the more I kept coughing up plant matter. When we were finished, they only had to do surgery on my left lung.” 

Changbin sighs, rubbing at his side. 

“And your sister’s okay?” 

“Yeah. I mean she was heartbroken, of course. But she left him immediately. Jinnie told her that if they wanted to work it out, he could recommend a good couple’s therapist, but she said this isn’t the first time he’s cheated. She’s staying with us for the foreseeable future. She’s due next month. Jinnie’s already converted the home office into the nursery. I’m on diaper duty the moment I set foot out of this place. I’m working hard to be able to hold my niece.” Changbin mimics holding a baby.

“That’s a good goal to strive for.” Minho is silent for a while. He’s not sure if he can share yet, but he knows he should try. “I-”

“Don’t feel obligated to share about your situation. I’m three weeks in, hyung. I’ve got practice. My therapist says to share only if you’re comfortable. And I’m comfortable with you.”

“Thank you? I’m flattered, I guess. Wait- Hyun- Dr. Hwang isn’t your therapist right?” Minho looks mildly pained. If he thought having his cousin as his RRT was against some oath, then Changbin having his future husband as his therapist had to be medical malpractice.

“Oh fuck no. We’d kill each other. My therapist is Dr. Yang Jeongin. He’s technically the resident children’s therapist. But he has a few adult clients. He’s actually the main reason Jisung’s here. He’s one of the featured doctors alongside Jinnie in the documentary. Not a lot is written about adolescent Hanahaki.” 

Minho stops them both in the middle of the hallway. 

“Kids!? They can get this too?” He doesn’t hide his horror in his voice.

“The youngest here is three. She’s amazing. Her mom passed in childbirth, so her dad is the only one who takes care of her. Her dad had to start his military service, so she stays here full time. You might be able to meet her after morning stretches, Yongbok takes the kids outside for gentle play time in the mornings. She super loves him. Jisung and I started helping him when she moved here about two weeks ago.”

Minho just shakes his head, and signals to continue walking to the room.

“Anybody and everybody can get it. There’s so much we don’t know about it. Hyunjin, Jeongin-ah, and Dr. Song are planning to publish a book of research soon. Jisung’s thinking of make a documentary series after his full length. There’s just so much the media gets wrong, and there’s so little research around it because of the shame most people feel, not to mention how many refuse the surgery or even refuse to seek medical help. Hell, I never fully understood it until I got it and I’m dating one of the lead researchers in the field.” 

When they get back to the room, Minho has two messages. One from Chan saying good morning and that he’ll drop by on his lunch break and the other from Seungmin that just reads “did u 💩 yet, u piece of shit”

Minho groans and looks at his calendar. Changbin looks to him to ask what’s the matter, but sees the time.

“Orange time for you, hyung. I’ll go take my walk around the gardens. Go well!” He leaves cackling.

At around 10, in middle of Minho’s towel stretches, Jisung, who has a large bag of picnic blankets, shows up looking for Changbin.

“Hey Minho-shii. Sorry to ask, but do you know where Changbin is? We’re supposed to help Yongbok with the kiddos for gentle play.” 

“I think he has group therapy?” Minho looks at Changbin’s chart, but the time is a free block.

“Ugh, he’s probably making out with Hyunjin in the linens closet or something. The kids like him cuz his laugh sounds like Sponge Bob. Actually, you want to come and help? There’s only five of them for this morning. But the baby likes to cling to Yongbok, so he can’t really watch the other four. We just set out a blanket and read stories to them while they get some sun time. Some of them nap.” Jisung’s eyes turn big and round and Minho finds it hard to refuse.

“I’m still slow moving so-” Minho automatically reaches for Jisung’s arm to stabilize himself.

“It’s okay, Minho-shii. So are the kids. Yongbok and I will do most of the heavy lifting, you just gotta make sure they don’t kill themselves or each other.” Jisung smiles a big toothy smile.

“Oh good, cuz I did such a good job of showing I can keep my own self alive.” Minho huffs.

Jisung laughs a deep full laugh as they make their way to the children’s wing. The transition from the cool blue tones of the adult unit to the colorful whimsy of the children’s ward is giving Minho whiplash. 

“I’m understanding the rainbow time schedule a lot more now.” Minho looks at the techno color murals on the walls, the various animal footprints on the floor, and the overall vibrant mood of everything. Even the med staff have fun scrubs on, with prints of various cartoon characters. Some of the nurses are even wearing various animal ear headbands. 

“Adults need calm and soothing, kids need stimuli. You need a break?” Jisung slows when Minho grips his arm a little harder.

“I’m okay, Jisung-ah. Just a bit distracted by the color. Where are we meeting the kids?” 

Jisung pats Minho’s hands and leads him to the entrance to the back garden. There, Yongbok has a line of four kids, all holding onto a rope with rings attached. He’s also carrying a small girl, whose face is curled into his neck, and a wagon full of things.

“Alright butter cups. Everyone has their stuffie?”  He says in a booming voice that has all the kids holding up their various vegetable plush toys. Minho remembers the little daikon he had when he first woke up. He smiles knowing that it’s currently on his pillow.

“Aww. I should have brought MuMu.” He whines as the kids all turn at the new voice.

“Hyung! What a lovely surprise! Butter cups, this is Minho samchon. He just arrived yesterday!” Yongbok and the kids begin a welcome chant that has Minho blushing.

“Hello everyone, I will try my best today. Please take care of me!” He smiles brightly as the kids clap. 

Slowly, Yongbok leads the children down the path to an open patch that’s shaded by tall trees. Minho lets go of Jisung so he can lay blankets down and they all take a seat. It’s the beginning of spring and the weather is warm and crisp, the skies clear. The little clearing is surrounded by various trees and bushes. There are paths for walking and quite a few people are out making their way around. Minho’s staring at an older couple strolling together, their hands linked by their fingertips. 

“That’s the Moons. They’ve been here every spring for the past ten years. Her Hanahaki begins to act up every mid-March.” Jisung tells Minho as he unloads various books and toys into the middle of the circle they’ve created. “I’ve known them for the past five years or so? They are very sweet, and he absolutely dotes on her every chance he can get.”

“Are they part of your documentary?” Minho stretches his legs out in front of him, slouching slightly. Yongbok clicks his tongue.

“Unshrimp please! We need tall backs and long sides today. We’ll start our stretches in a few minutes, so wiggle your fingers and toes as we get ready!” Yongbok is still standing, holding the little girl. Minho thinks that she must be the youngest one Changbin was talking about. 

Jisung laughs as Minho tries his best to unbend his back without making a sound. 

“They’re one of the main ones I have for the Chronic Disease section.” Jisung settles and pops his shoulders and head back, stretching his neck.

The little boy next to Minho tugs at his cardigan and motions for Minho to come closer. When Minho leans sideways, the little boy says in an attempt to whisper, “Honey samchon has a heart on his neck.” When he looks back at Jisung, he does indeed look like he has a heart shaped adam’s apple. 

“Honey?” Minho blinks at the little boy.

“Oh, that’s cuz of me,” Yongbok says behind him. “I called him ‘Hannie’ one day in front of the kids and it stuck and morphed into ‘Honey’. So he’s Honey now.” Yongbok backs away and takes a big breath. “Alright butter cups, we need to introduce ourselves to Minho samchon, yes? He needs to know all our names, so let’s start with our breathing and saying our names nice and full so Minho samchon can…?” 

All the kids perk up and say “Remember and retain!” Jisung even joins in on the response and it makes Minho wheeze.

Yongbok leads deep breathing exercises as they all introduce themselves. After he has them raise their arms and stretch their sides, slowly twisting from side as they link their fingers behind their heads. There are a few whimpers, mostly from Minho, and that makes the kids laugh. When they are finished with their stretches, Yongbok treats them to his homemade brownies. All the while the little girl in Yongbok’s arms stays hiding in the crook of his neck. 

“Seonnie, how about you let Yongbok samchon eat? Let Honey samchon hold you, okay?” Jisung is up with his arms outstretched towards, waiting for the little girl to respond. She whines, but lets go of Yongbok as he passes her to Jisung. 

“Aigoo, is today not a good day? Does it hurt here or here?” Jisung points to her sides and her head. The little girl points to her head. “Do you want me to find Dr. Yang Innie? Do you want to talk to him? We can go find him.” She shakes her head and hides against his shoulder, clutching her green onion plushie.  “Okay, okay, you can stay here with us, but can I tell Dr. Yang you don’t feel good, when we finish here? So he can come check on you later?” She stiffens and hugs him tighter. “Okay aegi, okay. I won’t tell him.” He’s rubbing her back and making a concerned face to Yongbok, when Chanbin’s voice is heard across the lawn. 

“Yohhhhhhh!” He calls out.

“Yohhhhhhhh!” The kids call back to him. 

Changbin walks quickly to their area, a little out of breath when he sits down and grabs a bit of brownie. The kids swarm him, but are gentle towards his left side. “Sorry, kiddos! Group ran a little longer than usual. But we are okay! We haven’t started yet, have we?” He looks around at them, smiling and when he catches Minho, his smile widens. “Hey roomie!” He turns to the kids. “Did you all know that Minho hyung is my roommate?” They shake their heads. “Well, he is! And do you know what? He talks in his sleep. Like this-” Minho, very quickly puts his hand over Changbin’s mouth.

“And did you know that today is Changbin-ah’s last day on earth?” Minho glares wildly at a giggling Changbin.

“Lee Minho, if I have to ban you from gentle play, I will, so help me.” Yongbok bites the air.

“Okay butter cups. Binnie samchon and I will take you down to the pond to see the ducks. Minho samchon can stay here and think about what he said.” He narrows his eyes, before turning to Jisung. “Seonnie, you wanna go see the ducks?” She shakes her head. “Okay, you can stay here and rest. We’ll be back in a bit.” He and Changbin lead the other children down to the pond quacking the whole way.

Minho immediately lies down, groaning as he attempts to starfish as much as he can. Jisung sits down next to his lower half, mindful of Seonnie as well. 

“Wanna lie down next to Minho Samchon? We can look at the sky and look for clouds.” 

“Yes, Seonnie, come lie down next to me. We can stare at the sky and you can tell me why Jisung samchon looks like a squirrel when he eats.”

The little girl giggles at that and slowly climbs out of Jisung’s lap and goes to lie down next to Minho. He scoots closer to her. She grips his arm, as she eases herself on her back.

“You can cuddle if you need to. You won’t hurt me.” 

Jising lies down on the other side of her. 

“Seonnie, you’ll have to point at the clouds when you see them.”

Minho feels little fingers ghost at his side, and he turns his head to look at her. “It doesn’t hurt, not like before. Just a little tender. I still have stitches so I have to be gentle. Do you still have your stitches?” She shakes her head. “Dr. Song said mine will fall off soon. They itch so much right now though. I think that is worse than when they hurt. Although, yesterday, your Honey samchon made a face that made me laugh so hard that they hurt almost as bad as before. Your Honey samchon has a silly face.”

“Yah! Minho-shii, be nice to me. It’s still the morning!” Jisung turns to his side and props his head on his hand. “Seonnie, don’t be grow up to be like Minho Samchon. He is a grumpy kitty. You grow up to be like Yongbok samchon. You be sunshine.” She squeals when he tickles her chin.

“I can be sunshine too. What phrase did you use yesterday?” Minho’s eyes begin to droop. “Ah yes. I am a fucking delight.” He sobers when he hears Seonnie giggle and Jisung hiss. “Whoops. Sorry. I am a tired delight, but still a delight. Just going to close my eyes for a bit.” He yawns.

“Rest. Both of you. I’ll be right here.” 

Minho closes his eyes.

What feels like moments later, Minho wakes to faint whimpers and Jisung’s gentle voice.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Does anything hurt? It’s just a bad dream. Remember what Dr. Innie says. You are stronger than your nightmares.”

Minho blinks and turns his head to see Jisung sitting up with Seonnie curled into him. 

“Do you want appa? I can call appa, let me call appa.” Jisung fishes his phone out and makes a video call. A worried face answers after two rings. 

“Jisung hyung! What’s wrong? Is Seonnie okay?”

“Seonnie’s having a tough time right now, she just had a nightmare and wanted to hear your voice.”

“Oh my sweet angel. Appa is sorry he isn’t there and can’t help you fight your bad dreams. But I will help you from where I am! And Jisung samchon will help you too. Is Yongbokkie samchon there with you?” 

Seonnie shakes her head. In a very tiny, high pitched voice, she slowly says, “No.  Him and Changbin samchon are with the ducks. Minho samchon is here. He's a fucking delight.” 

All the color drains from Jisung’s face. Minho is up in a flash, grabbing the phone from Jisung, turning the phone to his own face.

“I’m so sorry, Seonnie appa-shii. I’m Lee Minho and I was very tired when she heard me say that. I just arrived yesterday, and Jisung-ah asked me this morning if I could help with the kids because Changbin-ah was busy and-” 

Minho’s rambling is cut off by loud laughter. 

“It’s okay, Minho-shii. She’s heard me say much worse. Just be more careful around the others. Kids mimic everything they see and hear.”

Jisung takes the phone back as Minho keeps apologizing in the background.

“See aegi, you have so many people around you to help you fight and get better! Appa has to go back to work, but I will see you this weekend! And then my two days is coming soon! Keep fighting for appa okay? I love you very much! Bye bye!”

Seonnie waves to the phone as Jisung ends the call.

“Feel better? Appa is helping you all the way from his base! Oh what time is it? I think it is time for your bubbles!” Jisung takes a small pouch with her name on it from Yongbok’s pack. He takes out an inhaler and long cylinder with a nose and mouth mask and assembles them together. “Okay, ready?” He fits the mask over Seonnie’s nose and mouth and pushes down to release the medicine. “Let’s count, yeah? One, two, three…” 

Minho pulls out his own inhaler and takes one puff, counts, and takes another. By the time they are finished with their medicine, the others come back. 

“Butter cups! It’s time to head back to wash up. Some of you have talk time with Dr. Innie, and Some of you have tutoring. So we will say goodbye right now! Everyone say thank you to your samchons for helping today!” The kids all wave and say thank you, as Yongbok turns to Jisung, “You got her?” Jisung nods. Yongbok turns to the kids and leads them back to their wing.

Changbin begins to collect and fold the blankets and toys, pushing Minho away as he tries to help, but relents eventually. They pack everything into the wagon and Jisung puts Seonnie on the ground when she signals she wants down, and she holds onto Changbin’s hand as they walk slowly back. They drop the wagon off at the nurses station, one of the nurses immediately reaching for Seonnie to walk her the rest of the hallway. They say their goodbyes just as Minho gets a message from Chan that he and Seungmin are on their way for lunch. They make their way to the dining hall where Yongbok and Hyunjin are already, plates of food set out on the table. Chan and Seungmin show up ten minutes later with Minho’s favorite sushi dishes. After some quick introductions, they all settle in. As they eat, Minho is struck with how easy everything seems. He realizes he hasn’t felt this light in a long time.

“Hyung, where are you right now?” Seungmin asks, as Minho blacks back into the conversation. 

“Oh, I was just.” Minho is suddenly hit with a wave of emotion, he doesn’t know how to process.  He sniffs and fights back his tears.

“It hit you just now, didn’t it, hyung?” Changbin says, not looking at him. 

“How light you feel.” Jisung clarifies as Chan reaches out and squeezes Minho’s hand quickly and goes back to eating. 

“Ye- ehm. Yeah. Light.” He takes a deep breath. Then another. 

“The lightness hit me when I was talking to my sister, right after my surgery.” Hyunjin turns to Changbin, all the love in the world in his eyes as he listens to Changbin speak. “The baby started kicking and I saw her stomach move and I just started crying. She panicked cuz she thought I was in pain, but I told her how everything felt so-” 

“Easy.” Minho looks at Changbin, who is smiling.

“ So easy. It hadn’t felt easy in so long. Holding everything in. It wasn’t only hurting me.” Changbin offers a small smile as Hyunjin rubs his cheek with his thumb.

“Only up from here, hm?” Hyunjin and Changbin stay in their moment as the rest witness the tenderness. 

Minho looks down as Yongbok whispers “That’s so sweet.” And Seungmin continues eating his rice. Minho braces for something as he feels Jisung take a breath.

“Gay.” He deadpans and Changbin shudders, shaking off Hyunjin’s hands.

“Literally the gayest shit I’ve ever done.” Changbin looks right at Jisung.

“Ugh. Love.” Chan chimes in and all three break into uncontrollable laughter. Hyunjin rolls his eyes and Yongbok sighs. Seungmin just stares. Minho smiles at how easy this all is. 

After they finish eating, everyone goes back to their schedule as Minho gets ready for his first therapy appointment with Dr. Hwang.

Hyunjin’s office looks nothing like Minho thinks a therapist's office should look like. He expects bare stark white walls with framed degrees and maybe a generic picture of a vase of flowers. Big looming bookshelves of some thick and heavy wood that held volumes of Freudian, Jung,  and Adler that serve as a backdrop to an equally heavy desk with perpetual motion machine or Newton’s cradle. A hard leather sofa and a matching armchair.

What he’s greeted with is sage walls filled with various paintings inspired by movie scenes, a worn but comfortable looking denim couch and matching armchair, bean bags, a bright lavender shelf filled with manwha and little teddy bears, a clear minifridge with a variety of drinks and snacks. Lots of snacks. Tucked in the corner hidden behind a foldable screen is a makeshift desk consisting of a small door laying on top of filing cabinets.

Hyunjin is halfway hidden behind the screen when Minho knocks at the open door.

“Right on time. Minho-shii. Please sit anywhere.” Hyunjin is up and setting up a tea kettle and mugs. “Would you like sweetener in your tea? It’s Rooibos, no caffeine.” He holds up sugar and honey.

“No, no sweetener, please. Thank you, Hyun- uh. Dr. Hwang.” Minho makes a face at his slip up. Hyunjin laughs as he brings the tea to Minho, who sits on the couch unsure of what to do.

“Ah, it’s a bit awkward, isn’t it. Here, will this help?” Hyunjin puts on his lab coat and puts on his horn rimmed glasses. He grabs a notepad and a pen and pretends to furiously scribble. “Better?”

“Much. The glasses really let me know that I can tell you all my life’s problems. The notepad gives just enough judgement.” Minho pats the couch. “This is comfy. Do I lie down?’

“Do you want to lie down?” 

"Not really.”

“Then don’t?”

“I- okay.”

Minho makes eye contact, and after a pained silence, they both giggle.

“Here, I’ll begin formally. I am Dr. Hwang Hyunjin, and I am the resident therapist at this facility. I specialize in Hanahaki treatment.” Hyunjin bows. “Now you.”

“What do I even say?”

“You can just say you’re Minho.”

“Well then. I’m Minho.”

“Why are you here, Minho?”

“I have. Wait. Had. Am recovering? What’s. What is the terminology?”

“Some people use Hanahaki survivor. But honestly, it’s whatever you’re comfortable with.” 

“But I’m not comfortable.”

“Do you want to be?”

“I guess.” Minho slumps into the couch. 

“Then we should go over what you want, what you need, and set some goals. This is all very loose. And progress takes time and work. And healing and recovery isn’t linear. If anything, take this as a masterclass on how to be gentle with yourself. These sessions are to help guide you in being comfortable expressing what you need to say and to whom to say it to. And a lot of the time what you need to say is to yourself. I have a present for you. Do you have a favorite color?”

Minho smiles and tilts his head. “I’m partial to pink, I think.”

Hyunjin gets up and rummages through his filing cabinets, and comes back with three journals, dusty pink, neon pink, and glitter, and hands them to Minho.

“Choose the one that calls to you.” 

Minho looks them over, and feels the unlined pages for their thickness. He sits with them for a while, seeing how they feel in his hand. In the end he chooses the dusty pink.

“Do you mind telling me why you chose that one?” Hyunjin takes the other two back to his desk and comes back with a box of crafting supplies.

“It reminds me of the sky at sunset. It’s comforting.”

“So you’re a sunset person. Good to know. Now, this is your journal. You’ll use it extensively while you are here, I’m hoping you’ll continue using one when you leave. This is where you will not limit yourself, and pour everything into it however you want. Now what I’d like us to do is spend the next ten minutes or so using your journal, but you can take as much or as little time as you want. You can decorate the cover, you can write, you can draw. Whatever you like.” Hyunjin unpacks magazines, glue sticks, crayons, colored pencils, markers, pens, fabric scraps, washi tape. Minho thinks everything is in that box.

Minho begins to choose colored pencils to decorate the front end pages. The next ten minutes turn into the rest of the session as Minho is engrossed in drawing. When Hyunjin gently tells him that the session is over, Minho looks down to see that he has created the desert from his dreams.

🫁

Minho’s days go like this:

7am Breakfast with Changbin and sometimes Hyunjin

8am Bathroom time

8:30am Morning stretches

9am Journal

9:30am walk

10am Free

11am gentle play with the Yongbok and the kids 

Noon lunch with Chan and Seungmin

1pm Bathroom time

1:30pm individual session (TU)

1:30pm Group session (TH)

1:30pm PT with Yongbok (M/W/F)

3pm Hobby time: pottery (TU/TH), painting (M/W) Movie night (F)

5pm walk

6pm Dinner with Changbin, Jisung, Yongbok, and Hyunjin

7pm Bathroom time

7:30pm power down

10pm Lights out

On weekends, he’s able to leave the facility, pending on how he feels. Chan and Seungmin will sometimes take him to a picnic on the Han river, or go watch a movie. Yongbok usually takes him to his parents’ house for a few hours on Sunday. Sometimes he, Changbin, and Jisung will go dig for records. 

During his second week, Minho takes up pottery for hobby time. Only because Changbin drags him there, and to make truly horrendous teacups. Jisung takes the class as well and the three of them devolve into giggles as Minho and Jisung’s clay collapses on the wheel. Changbin is surprisingly good, as he is set on creating a set of plates as a future anniversary gift.

“He cheats, though. He and Hyunjin used to take those day classes when they first dated. He knows what he’s doing. He’s practically a pro.’ Jisung is struggling with shaping his ramen bowl.

Minho is batting at his bowl like a cat. One side of the wall had collapsed in on itself. He deems it a masterpiece.

“You were the one that said he wanted to get into pottery. So I took him to learn pottery. Not my fault I take my boyfriend to do things he enjoys.” Changbin sticks his tongue out.

“You don’t even like art.” Jisung sticks his tongue out in concentration.

“Yeah, but I like my boyfriend and my boyfriend likes art.” Changbin’s ramen bowl has rounded tiers to it. The sides look like bubbles. “That’s what good boyfriend’s do, Jisung, they pay attention to what their partners like.”

“I pay attention!” Jisung nearly shouts, then immediately turns red as the instructor remind the class to focus quietly. “I pay attention.” He repeats solemnly.

Changbin chuckles. “and I’m learning to appreciate art. So there’s that.” He deems his bowl as done. Jisung looks at his bowl and basically gives up.

“It’s as good as it’s gonna get.” They all take their bowls to the rack to dry. After they wash up, Changbin and Han decide to join him on his walk, and bring blankets, snacks and drinks for an impromptu picnic. After 15 minutes of leisurely walking, they set up near the pond and Minho lies down, staring at the sky.

“What’s it like being in love with Hyunjin?” He suddenly asks Changbin, who promptly chokes on his water. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“No, no it’s okay, just surprised me is all.” Changbin looks down, his face softening. “Loving Hyunjin is… simple? He’s.. incredibly kind and generous. He throws himself into everything he does. And he’s so fearless. We’ve been together for while now and I feel like I learn so much from him.” 

Jisung snorts. “A while… as if you couldn’t pinpoint the nanosecond y’all meet.”

“We were both undergrads in Uni. We were assigned as partners in Abnormal Psych and we instantly clicked. To this day I send that professor a thank you card on our anniversary.”

“He wouldn’t shut up about you. Talking about his short king and how he wanted you to bench press him.” Jisung gags.

“God, I was such a skinny kid when we first met, I barely started lifting when we started dating.”

“You said he introduced you to Jisung.” Minho turns to Jisung. “How do you know Hyunjin?”

Jisung was about to speak when Changbin cuts him off. “They used to date.”

Minho’s eyes widen and Jisung gently tackles Changbin to the ground.

“MOTHERFUCKER!”

“Oh my god, get off me. Don’t be sour cuz you didn’t make the cut.” Changbin teases, easily pushing Jisung off onto the blanket. 

After catching their breath, Jisung looks at Minho, his face still red.

“We dated for like a second in middle school. We only held hands one time after school and then just fought the whole time. Technically, we never broke up. We just stopped hanging out. I moved abroad for a while and came back for school. We only became friends again because we got assigned to the same dorm. Puberty makes you do weird things.”

“And now they’re your best friends?” Minho can’t help but grin.

“Oh yeah, he’s gonna officiate our wedding.” Changbin ruffles Jisung’s hair.

“Whenever this ass hat decides to propose.” 

“I JUST HAD MAJOR LUNG SURGERY.” Changbin screeches. “Give me a few months, christ.”

“Bin, you’ve had the ring for years. He’s seen it already.”

“Yeah, but it was never the right time. Just let me cook. You’re worse than my mom.”

“Ugh. Men.” Jisung pinches Changbin’s chin. “What about you, Minho- hyung? You got a special someone?” Jisung takes half a second to understand what he just said as Changbin freezes. 

Minho takes a deep breath. “No. No one special at the moment.”

Jisung sits on his heels. “I’m sorry, hyung, I wasn’t thinking.” 

Minho waves at the air between them. “It’s okay, I mean you already know my Hanahaki was because of romantic feelings. I talked to Hyunjin about this, he said to talk to my friends. I want to talk to you two. You’re my friends. 

Both Changbin and Jisung sit a little straighter at the statement. 

“I haven’t been in a serious relationship in years, just haven’t really thought about it. My last one wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good and when we ended things, I just didn’t want to start another one. And then…” Minho gestures to his ribs. Jisung and Changbin just nod.

“You know how they say all the feelings that made you develop the disease will be gone? Well, my feelings are gone, but so is that person. I don’t know who-” Minho takes another breath. “I don’t know who I was in love with. I think Chan and Seungmin know, but they aren’t going to tell me. I don’t know if I remember the person at all. Like if they’ve been completely erased.”

“I’m sor-” Han starts, his voice a whisper.

“Han Jisung. If you say I’m sorry for a situation I don’t remember, for a person I don’t even know. I swear-”

“Hyung, how do you feel about it?” Changbin looks as him with a face that he must have learned from Dr. Hwang. It makes Minho laugh.

“That’s the thing. I don’t feel anything. I don’t have any feelings about it. How am I supposed to feel about something I don’t remember happening? Like when we go around in group, and everyone remembers their situation. They all want to feel a sense of loss and they talk about how weird that they aren’t sad about something. But I don’t want to feel loss. I don’t want to feel. I should feel something right? I should be in mourning or something. But I’m not.” Minho picks at the grass.

“Actually, no I feel worried. Because I know that removing the flowers removes the feelings associated with that person, that I’ll never feel romantic love for that person ever again. But what if it happens again. With another person. And it’s another situation where I can’t tell them. Like what if the person I loved before was already in a relationship with someone else, or is Aro and I didn’t want them to feel bad rejecting me?” 

“They could have been an awful ex that  never wanted to see you again.” Changbin slaps Jisung in the chest, shooting him a warning.

“What if I started to feel something for someone and somehow they like me back and want to be intimate and they see the scars on my chest and sides. Hey baby, do my thoracic scars get you all whiny and needy. They doing it for you?  Not exactly the kind of dirty talk I wanna be doing.”

Changbin nods again, Minho wonders if Changbin feels the same way. If he thinks Hyunjin will look at his body differently because of the scars.

“Scars are hot though, hyung.” Jisung pipes up again, and Changbin covers his mouth with a meaty hand. 

“You are not helping.” 

“Well, he’s never beating the Hanahaki fetish charges, that’s for sure.” Minho says biting into peeled orange like an apple. Changbin’s horrified face and Jisung’s thick laughter is all Minho needs to move on from this conversation. But the more he looks at Jisung’s smile, the more he worries.

🫁

In the middle of the third week, his dream desert changes. Not big changes, but noticeable. The ladder has more rungs now. The sky is more pink. There's some patches of greenery showing up here and there.

He writes about it in his journal. Draws this new desert. 

Then he starts adding things to his desert that aren’t in his dreams. A little oasis. Desert animals. A little cabin. Joshua trees. A dinosaur. Hyunjin did say not to hold back.

When his dream desert changes again, it’s after Friday movie night. They decided to go watch the kids one since it’s a Studio Ghibli one, Howl’s Moving Castle. Felix isn’t sure if it’ll scare the kids, because of the PG rating, but all the parents have signed off on it. And if they have nightmares, well that’s the night shift's problem. 

“What do you mean you haven’t seen it!? It’s the best Ghibli movie!” Han looks offended. He and Changbin met up with Minho and Yongbok, after their PT session. As they make their way to the children’s section, Han is singing the movie’s praises.

“Look, my first Ghibli movie was Grave of the Fireflies. I’m traumatized. Can’t even see hard candies without breaking down. Haven’t seen any Ghibli movies since.”

Han stops and looks at him. “Your first Ghibli was the one that shall not be named?”

Changbin turns to look at him. “So you’ve never seen Spirited Away?”

“Nope.”

“My Neighbor Totoro.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Ponyo.”

Minho shakes his head.

“Princess Mononoke.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Not even The Cat Returns?” Both Changbin and Han look grief stricken.

“What part of ‘I’ve never seen any Ghibli movie since Grave of the Fireflies,’ did you not understand?”

“No, it’s just- I’m. I don’t even know what to say. That’s, wow. I-” Han sputters, looking around like he is lost. His eyebrows curl into themselves. Something squeezes in Minho’s chest.

“Welp, we’re gonna have to fix that shit. Can’t have your only Ghibli movie be literal war flashbacks. Yongbok-ah, can you add Ghibli movie marathon Saturdays to the unicorn poop calendar?” Changbin turns to Yongbok. “Let’s have everyone over on Saturday. We’ll do Totoro, Porco Rosso, and KiKi’s. Cleanse that palette.”

They gather the kids and all settle around the playroom turned movie theater for the night. There are blankets and bean bags set up on the floor, chairs and small tables, and a snack bar with popcorn, nachos, and candies.

They grab snacks and lounge on the bean bags. When Minho sits, Seonnie immediately climbs into his lap. She’s been attached to him more, since he’s been going to gentle play. He’s even had lunch with her and her dad, when he last visited her. 

“Hi aegi. If the movie gets too much you just tuck in okay?” He kisses the top of her head.

“Butter cups, everyone have their water, snacks, and stuffies?” Yongbok counts as the kids hold up their various veggie toys. Minho holds up his daikon and Changbin holds up his ginger. 

“Good! Now we have to do our bubbles, everyone ready?” They all get their inhalers ready, as Han and Yongbok help the younger ones, and they all take their medicine, counting and coughing in rhythm before the movie starts.

During the movie, Seonnie gets up to stretch, and Minho takes the moment to grab more popcorn. When he comes back Seonnie is in Jisung’s lap. Jisung has Seonnie’s arms, mimicking Howl’s movements, making Seonnie laugh. He sits and watches as Jisung recites the movie’s dialogue. Han notices Minho staring and blushes. But he doesn’t stop playing with Seonnie.

“I told you this was my favorite Ghibli movie.” Jisung says after Seonnie begins to pay serious attention to Calicifer.

“You did mention that this was the best one, yes. I just didn’t realize how deep you were with your crush on Howl.” Minho smirks as Jisung goes to slap his thigh.

“How very dare you! I am devoted to Turnip Head and Turnip Head only. Now shush! You’re missing it.”

Minho misses a lot more of the movie, watching Jisung react to the movie he’s seen a million times. When Seonnie buries her head into Jisung’s chest because Bird Howl makes her nervous, he sees how protective Jisung instantly turns, covering her ears and eyes. The squeeze in his chest tightens a little more.

During the war scenes, Jisung jokes with him. “It’s okay, hyung. Happy ending. Promise. No rice balls in this movie.” When he sees Minho's eyes turn glossy at the reference, he quickly grabs his hand and lifts it to his lips, kissing it quickly. “Sorrysorrysorry!” 

Minho keeps his hand interlaced with Jisung’s for the rest of the movie.

🫁

That night a horse shows up in his desert. Chestnut colored, with a bold white strip in the middle of its face and big brown eyes. It's playful, wanting to bump into Minho's hip, trying to nuzzle against his palm. Minho likes seeing the horse, but feels cautious of it. Backs away when it tries to come too close. Right before he wakes up, he thinks he sees a heart shaped spot on it’s neck.

🫁

After movie night, Minho is unconsciously getting closer to Jisung, while consciously trying to pull away. This feeling of tightness every time Jisung is near him, the way his heart beats faster, the way his breath catches when Jisung does something cute. The back of his head feels tingly when he thinks he catches sightings of Jisung throughout the day. 

It feels sudden to him. But now that he is aware of how he is around Jisung, he notices the others not reacting like he thought they would. There are no looks of caution or knowing smirks. No surprise when they find Jisung in his room without Changbin. No double takes when he and Jisung arrive at the hobby time classes together. No one questions when Seonnie grabs both their hands and laces them together during gentle play. It’s like they are used to it. Like they’ve seen it happen a million times before. And maybe they had. Only Minho hadn’t.

Minho is making his way to lunch, when he overhears Seungmin ask Chan, “Where are the chopsticks today?” and when he sits down, he offers Seungmin his pair. Seungmin just laughs. Chan gives Seungmin a look that Minho barely catches.

“Jisung not joining us?” He asks causally.

“Nah, he had some patients who wanted to be interviewed for his doc. He’s busy the whole day.”

“You must be devastated.” Seungmin says flatly, an evil twinkle in his eye. Minho feels Chan kick him under the table.

‘You think you want to be part of his doc? Since you have the memory loss thing and such.” Chan redirects and Minho laughs at how mundane Chan brings up his illness. 

“I know he wants me too, since I’m in the rare percentile. But honestly what could I bring to the doc? I’m Lee Minho, and I don’t remember anything. Wanna see how I can raise my arms over my head though? ” Minho raises his arms and from across the way, he hears Changbin clapping and whooping. 

“Hell yeah, Hyung. Look at those gains!” He laughs as Hyunjin shushes him. “Where’s Jisung?” He asks Minho. 

“Patient interviews.”

“Oh, that’s right. He’s out for like the next two weeks, he has follow ups with the ones who are home now.” Hyunjin chimes in.

“Two weeks? I must have forgotten.” Minho can’t understand why he’s so sad all of a sudden.

“Jesus, hyung. You act like you’ll never see him again. You can literally video call him. I bet if you called him right now, he’d answer after the first ring.” Seungmin grabs Minho’s phone and makes like he’s going to call, when Jisung’s call rings through and the table bursts into laughter.

Minho grabs his phone back and answers, angling the camera at the ceiling.

“Jagiya! Why am I staring at the ceiling?”

“So you can’t see how red his ears are right now!” Seungmin cackles as Minho kicks him under the table.

Changbin grabs the phone, showing the table, as everyone says hi. Minho thanks him, taking meat from his own plate and putting it on Changbin’s plate. Changbin smiles at him.

“How’s everyone on the outside?” Changbin takes over as Minho recovers.

“Good! Doing family follow ups. Which reminds me. Linoring- Seonnie’s appa is gonna call you during gentle play. He’ll text what times he’s free this week to you later.” 

Minho hums. 

“Okay, I gotta go. Have a good lunch! I’ll call you for din-”

Minho cuts the call off.

Lunch continues as usual, with nobody bothering to notice that Minho is having an internal existential crisis.

🫁

The rest of the week goes like that, with Jisung calling during lunch and dinner. Minho can’t help the feelings of loneliness, especially since he knows it’s Changbin’s last weeks in the center. Changbin’s been able to spend one night off site on the weekends. He and Hyunjin are celebrating their anniversary tonight, and he’s alone. He usually welcomes solitude but tonight he’s restless. He’s watching some anime Yongbok recommended, when Jisung calls.

He picks up immediately.

“Jagiyaaaaa!”

“Han Jisung! Are you drunk?” He laughs as Jisung denies it.

“No. I only had two beersss.” He elongates all his syllables. 

“I didn’t ask how much you had to drink, I asked if you are drunk. Which, you are, or you’d turn on video. I wanna see how red you are.” 

Immediately, a notification pops up that Jisung is sharing video. Which makes Minho burst out laughing.

“Hyuuung, don’t make fun of me!”

“It’s not my fault you turn into a tomato at the mention of alcohol. Who did you drink with?” 

“I had anniversary drinks with Changbin and Hyunjin, after their dinner. They just dropped me off at home. Wanna see my place? It’s messy though.” And the camera flips to a living room full of recording equipment. The video is shaky as Jisung is just moving his phone around. “Here’s my bed.”  The camera shows a messy bed with stuffed animals and pillows on top as well as unfolded laundry. The world turns sideways as Jisung flops into bed.

“Han Jisung. Are you in your inside bed with your outside clothes on!?”

“No.” The phone is thrown on the bed as Minho hears Jisung struggle to undress. The phone is picked up again, and the camera is facing Jisung lying in bed. “No clothes, whatsoever.” And it takes Minho a second to process that Jisung doesn’t have a shirt on. 

“You have a tattoo. On your chest.” Minho tries hard to keep his voice level.

“I have tattoos other places too, wanna see?” And Minho yelps as the camera moves to Jisung’s lower body.

“NO! I mean, I’d like to see them, but not now! You’re drunk.” Minho is covering his eyes as Jisung laughs breathlessly. 

“I’ll show you all my tattoos, someday. But you have to show me your scars. Thems the rules.”

Minho hears the blankets shuffling and he uncovers his eyes.

“I respectfully choose to not follow those rules.” 

“But I wanna see theeem. I wanna see all of you.” Jisung yawns as he says that second part and Minho’s breath quickens.

“Jisung-”

“I missed you this week, jagiya. I miss you so much all the time.” Jisung’s eyes are closed. His face is smushed against his pillow. “Did you miss me?”

Minho can’t speak.

“C’mon. Tell me baby. You missed me. I know you’re happiest with me.”

“Ji-”

“No, no more Jisung. I’m Jagiya, now. Your jagiya” Jisung breathes out. “I wish you were right here with me.” He then stops talking. After a few minutes Minho realizes he’s asleep. 

“I am there with you, jagiya.” Minho whispers and keeps the call going until he falls asleep. He dreams of a raging storm in his desert.

🫁

The next few days, Minho avoids Jisung at all costs. It’s actually quite easy as Jisung is out working on his documentary. He blocks his calls. Dodges questions about him the others ask. Not that they ask many questions or pry. They are suspiciously not asking him questions. At least until Chan takes him out for lunch.

“Glad you’re able to leave during the week now. If only for a few hours. Must be nice to get out more.” Chan says calmly, but Minho knows what’s coming.

“Use your words, hyung. Don’t want you to begin coughing in the middle of lunch.” Minho squared his gaze at Chan who is somewhat hiding behind the menu. He sighs and places his menu on the table. Reaches across the table to grab Minho’s hands. When Minho tries to pull away, Chan grips tighter.

“Insurance so you won’t punch me when I ask you what the fuck are you doing to Jisung.” He also expertly dodges Minho’s kicks under the table. “Lee Minho. You will stop running away.”

“But what if I don’t want to be here?” He makes a show of struggling more until he goes completely limp and almost slides off his chair.

“Min- stop. Please. Or I will let go.”

“You can’t let go of me, I’m dangling off this cliff.”

“All the more reason to do so, since you won’t let yourself fall. Jisung will be there to catch you. So please tell me what happened. So I don’t have Jisung calling me at all hours of the morning, drunk crying.”

“Oh god.” Minho sits up. “He called you drunk?” 

“I believe he called all of us drunk. All in the same night. We had a meeting this morning and all decided that it would be me to talk some sense into you.”

“Fuck.” He puts his forehead on the table. 

“What happened?”

“He confessed to me. I think. He was drunk.”

“I’m starting to notice a pattern.” 

“It was last week, when Changbin and Hyunjin had their anniversary dinner. He called me, showed me his tattoos. Said he missed me and that he wanted to see all of me. Said he wished I was there with him. Then he fell asleep.”

“And what did you say?”

Minho looks up at him from the table.

“I blocked him.”

“Of course you did.” Chan flags down the server, orders two mint lemonades and cold noodles, one mild, one extra spicy. The server takes down their order trying hard not to notice Minho face down on the table. “Talk to him.”

Minho whines, shaking his head on the table.

“He likes you! What are you doing!?”

“I can’t!”

“But you like him.” And there it is. Spoken out loud. Stated like a fact. 

Minho can’t move.

“This isn’t the same, Min. You know that right? This is different.”

Minho whines more.

“You can’t be afraid of your own feelings, you know that right?”

“I can and I will.” 

“Welp you can’t now, champ. I’d say I’m sorry, but I promised my eomma I’d never tell a lie.” He stands and waves to someone behind Minho. “SUUUNGIE! OVER HERE!” Minho freezes. 

“Chan! Everything okay? What’s the emerg-” Minho feels Jisung stop behind him. 

“The emergency is that my Bestie is a dumbass. I got you mild naengmyeon. You eat. Now you.” He points menacingly at Minho. “Use your words.” Chan slowly backs up, while staring at Minho, making hand gestures that he is watching.

“I didn’t know he was gonna do that when he called. I can leave.” Jisung sounds so broken that Minho wants to curl up and melt into the floor.

“Don’t be stupid and waste Chan hyung’s hard earned money. Sit and eat.” Neither of them have looked at each other. 

The server does a slight double take as he sees it’s Jisung instead of Chan and Minho is pretty sure he is questioning reality as he distributes the noodles.

They eat quietly in complete and awkward silence. When he finishes his noodles, Minho just stares at his hands. He doesn’t know how to begin. So he doesn’t. Instead he takes out his phone and types out a short message. 

I’m sorry

When Jisung looks at the message on his phone, he smiles a sad smile. 

“Right. I’ll get going, then. I hope we can figure out a way to continue being friends someday. It was nice meeting you, Minho-shii.” He gets up to leave and Minho can’t say anything. When Jisung walks past him, Minho grabs the back of his shirt. Jisung stops not turning around, and Minho gets up and wraps him up in a back hug. Jisung is stiff at first, but when Minho doesn’t let go, he sinks into Minho’s chest. 

“Take me home, jagiya.”

🫁

Minho is breaking the rules. 

He was supposed to be back at the facility half an hour ago. Instead he’s sitting on Jisung’s worn leather couch, as Jisung is a hurricane picking up what he can, shoving piles of stuff into his closet.

When he finally settles on the other side of the couch, he’s out of breath.

“Sorry, I never have people over.” 

Minho just smiles. He hasn’t said a word to Jisung on the ride over to his apartment. Jisung wouldn’t shut up, and just babbled the entire time. Now that they are in Jisung’s apartment, Minho still doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Use your words , Chan said. Minho has forgotten every word that ever existed. 

So he takes off his shirt.

“Fuck me.” Jisung sucks in a breath.

Minho giggles as he stands. Jisung looks terrified. Minho takes a breath.

“This one,” he points to a scar on his abdomen, “is from when my appendix burst when I was 10. This one,” he shows the scar on his elbow, “is when I fell off my bike when I was 15. These,” he shows the scars on his knuckles, “are from years of boxing with Chan hyung. It’s how we meet actually. He beat the shit out of me in practice rounds when I was 18.”

Minho continues showing Jisung his various scars. The one on his nose where he was bitten in his sleep by a kitten. The one on top of his foot where he caught the edge of his bedpost during a very active dream. The one on his ear from a rejected cartilage piercing. Jisung is studying every mark on Minho's body like he’s going to be tested on it. Minho thinks he’ll quiz him about it in the future. Then Minho takes a breath and raises his arms, locking his hands behind his head. Jisung meets his eyes.

“And these are from when I was too afraid to tell someone I loved them.” 

He slowly turns to show Jisung how the scars follow the line under his pecs, round his sides and curve up into his shoulder blades like a smile. He’s faced away from Jisung when he feels Jisung’s fingertips lightly trace the scars. He turns and sits next to Jisung, takes his hands and puts them over his own heart, as if using Jisung hands to hold it from jumping out of his chest. Both of them have tears running down their faces. 

“Just doing this, cuz you said it was the rules,” Minho says and Jisung inches forward to rest his forehead on Minho’s. 

“Lee Minho, if you don’t kiss me right n-” Minho surges forward, catching Jisung’s lips mid word and everything melts away. It’s a gentle kiss. It’s a lingering kiss. Minho pulls away first and hides in Jisung’s neck.

“I have to say this, just to make sure I won’t be coughing up pedals. I missed you. I always miss you. I want you right here,” Minho squeezes Jisung’s hands over his heart, “with me, all the time. I like you, Han Jisung.” 

“I like you too, Lee Minho. Scars and all.”

🫁

Minho’s desert is vastly different than it was when he first dreamed it. It’s lush now, if deserts can be lush. There’s maple trees and flowering quince, geraniums, tulips, dahlias, quaking grass all clustered together, intertwined patches. The ladder is stronger and sturdier. Minho and the horse lounge together, enjoying the perpetual nice weather and pink sunset sky.

🫁

-Three years later-

They are all crammed into the center’s makeshift theater, the dining hall’s many rows of chairs filled, while the staff is lining the walls. Chan, Seungmin, Changbin, Minho and Jisung are all dressed in fancy suits, seated in the front row. Yongbok and Hyunjin are standing at the front of the hall, facing everyone. They are dressed in black scrubs, their take on black tie.

“Thank you everyone, for attending tonight. As many of you know this documentary has been a labour of love for Jisung for years, first inspired to tell his great grandfather’s lost story, then to tell all of yours.” Yongbok’s deep voice booms throughout the hall.

Hyunjin smiles as he looks into the crowd. “This is just the first part of many he has planned. While the official world release for Anthophobia is scheduled next month at the DMZ International Documentary Film Festival-”

Changbin and Chan woo very loudly.

“He wanted to share it with all of you first. So without further ado.” Hyunjin points to the back and the lights dim.

On screen an empty chair appears. Minho walks to the chair and sits down, looking uncomfortable at the camera. 

“So I just say my name?”

Jisung’s voice off screen answers. “If you want, Jagiya.”  

Some snickers come from Seungmin in the crowd. 

On screen Minho takes a breath.

“My name is Lee Minho. And I an Amnesiatic Hanahaki survivor.” 

He looks behind the camera. 

“Was that good?”

Jisung laughs.

“That was perfect, Jagiya. You’re perfect. Scars and all.”

💐