Thank you once again to weirdlatte for staying up, editing and generally being awesome <3 May flowers never grow in your heart and roots never take place in your soul. 

No one knew how it came to be.

 

Just that when it did, no one was ready for it.

 

At first, it was small, speckles of flowers thrown up by lovesick people, a symbol of unrequited love. It was terrifying and painful but manageable, with predictable endings, be it bad or good.

 

And then one day-

 

Just one day-

 

From someone who had screamed in the middle of the streets, holding someone hostage at point blank range, shouting and ranting about an unrequited love in the arms of another, grief written in every line of their body. And from that grief, from that terrifying, paralysing fear, a beautiful crimson flower bloomed.

 

It started at their eyes, red and glimmering under the sunlight, blinding that person, leaving them screaming for help. Then it twirled vines up their throat and out their mouths, thorns tearing at their lips, staining the crimson petals a deeper red. Choking on flowers made from their own obsession, they fell over, bleeding onto the ground, from where more flowers bloomed.

 

And they continued to grow, tearing from their body like it was nothing, until there was nothing but a poisonous flower that fed on agony and grief, beautiful, carnivorous-

 

Demonic.

 

And from that singular plant, a deadly pollen was released.

 

And people within its vicinity, starting from the hostage to the passersby who could do nothing to help, people who were witnesses to a breakdown, started to bloom as well, bursting into crimson flowers of their own, collateral damage to a single person’s inability to stop loving.

 

And suddenly, a disease that should only affect someone who has an unrequited love was suddenly a danger to everyone around them.

 

*

 

And then from love, humankind started into a deep descent.

 

*

 

“Just hold on, they are on their way.”

 

Sorn brushed a hand over SeungHee’s cheek, brows furrowed in worry as she took in her girlfriend’s condition. SeungHee’s pale skin was flushed, white dipped in a deep dark red, her forehead hot to the touch. Every breath she took, a whistling sound was heard, as though air was leaking from her lungs. SeungHee’s eyes fluttered open briefly, the right corner of her lip ticking up into a smile.

 

“I know.”

 

Sorn returned the smile weakly, tracing a path over SeungHee’s nose and past her temple, taking care not to breathe in too deeply.

 

“You’re doing so well.”

 

SeungHee managed another smile before turning her head into her pillow, coughing into it harshly. There was a retching sound before she raised her head, Sorn pulling up the bucket by her bed for her to lower her head in. She spat out a mouthful of petals, red staining deep purple before hacking up a piece of twig. Clearly exhausted, she laid back down on the pillow, the wheezing sound louder than before.

 

Sorn’s frown deepened but she didn’t say anything, merely placing the bucket back to its place and taking a wet cloth, using the tip of it to clean the traces of blood speckled by the corners of SeungHee’s lips before folding it in half, placing it on SeungHee’s forehead. She bent forward, lips almost at her temple when SeungHee let out a hoarse chuckle, stopping Sorn in her tracks.

 

“You’re going to catch the hanahaki from me if you do that.”

 

Sorn’s lips quivered and she pulled away, just close enough to be near SeungHee.

 

“I’d take the seedlings planted in your lungs and plant them in mine if it meant you’d continue smiling.”

 

SeungHee laughed softly, turning to her side to regard Sorn fondly.

 

“If you did that, I’d have to carve a hole in my chest so you wouldn’t bloom.”

 

She coughed again, a slight one this time, and settled into her bed fully, dark brown hair falling into her eyes. Sorn reached over and brushed them away, wanting nothing more than to press her lips to the frown in between her eyebrows.

 

“I don’t understand. You were cured.”

 

SeungHee shrugged, reaching up to catch Sorn’s fingers with her own, the grip weak and soft.

 

“We can ask the doctor when they arrive.”

 

The door behind them opened with a thump, cutting off SeungHee’s reply. Sorn turned around immediately and smiled in relief when she saw the white coat adorned with purple flowers. The woman wearing the coat strode over to them with purpose, an easy smile on her face, her eyes taking in SeungHee’s bedridden form methodically.

 

“I’m Irene from the Iris Society. Am I to assume you’re Miss Oh SeungHee?”

 

Sorn moved aside, allowing for Irene to sit by SeungHee. She worried her lower lip with her teeth, watching Irene work, a haphazard imitation of how a doctor would treat a patient, though every move was executed with care.

 

“May I know just how long you’ve had this infection?”

 

SeungHee coughed again, her eyes peering over to Sorn. Clearing , Sorn answered in her place, not wanting her girlfriend to exert herself.

 

“We only noticed it a few days ago when she started coughing up red flowers.”

 

Irene nodded gravely, opening her bag and pulling out a variety of items, of which included a scalpel, a needle and a vial of maroon liquid.

 

“And it was only red? No other colours?”

 

Sorn pointed at the bucket next to the bed shakily.

 

“The petals are there.”

 

Irene peered into the bucket carefully, her eyes flickering from the flowers to Sorn and then to SeungHee. A decision was made and Irene turned back towards SeungHee, her smile turning softer, comforting.

 

“Don’t worry. You’ll get better in no time.”

 

*

 

It was after that there was a dedicated organisation made to battle this disease.

 

There was a discovery, an emergence of a group of people who had the hanahaki disease but somehow never made it to the stage where the flowers turned red, an unrequited love that remained pure despite the state of things.

 

It was with this discovery that the world’s governments decided upon an organisation.

 

The Iris Society.

 

A society of “doctors” whose main job was to cure afflicted people before they bloom, a cure synthesised from their own blood.

 

A group of people selflessly putting themselves at risk to ensure the survival of the human race.

 

*

 

“So, tell me more about yourself, SeungHee.”

 

Irene started off easy, distracting the patient with small talk while she prepared the anaesthetic.

 

Coughing lightly, SeungHee tried answering the question the best she could, one eyebrow raised at the doctor.

 

“I’m twenty five this year. I work as a piano teacher. And I have a fiancee.”

 

Irene reached over for a loop, nodding while she worked.

 

“A fiancee? Who is the lucky person?”

 

SeungHee winced slightly, her arm twitching as Irene wrapped the loop around it.

 

“I think I’m the lucky one in the relationship.”

 

Irene followed her eyesight, her body turning slightly to regard the blonde standing behind her. Sorn startled slightly, having had all her attention trained solely on SeungHee, her lower lip swollen from her biting. She lowered her head and introduced herself quickly.

 

“Hi, I’m Sorn.”

 

Irene nodded in acknowledgement, turning back towards SeungHee who was still staring at Sorn, the sparkle in her eyes unperturbed by the tired lines at the corners. A smile tugged at her lips and she continued her ministrations, head tilted towards Sorn slightly when the other woman questioned her hesitantly.

 

“These flowers... Am I doing something wrong?”

 

Irene hummed.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

There was a shuffling sound and then a soft thump, Sorn taking a seat by SeungHee’s head, the lines in her forehead deepening.

 

“Back then- I mean-”

 

Sorn’s fingers dug into the bedsheets, quivering as she tried to find a way to explain, clicking shut when SeungHee spoke up, twitching yet again when Irene pulled out a scalpel.

 

“I had the hanahaki before. But luckily for me, it was the first stage and my feelings were returned so it wasn’t an issue.”

 

Irene pressed the tip of the scalpel into flesh, drawing a line of blood.

 

“And it’s this lovely lady here?”

 

SeungHee smiled, her eyes slipping shut when Sorn reached over to brush the hair out of her eyes.

 

“There wouldn’t be anyone else.”

 

A sharp twinge vibrated through Irene’s chest, though she showed no outward sign of the discomfort. Placing the scalpel back onto the tray, she then took the syringe filled with maroon liquid, tapping the side of the glass chamber to ensure that there were no air bubbles.

 

“Well, from what I can see, your current infection is secondary.”

 

She let out a breath of a laugh at the twin looks of confusion.

 

“You’ve heard of pollen infection, right?”

 

She waited for them to nod before continuing.

 

“That’s what we call a secondary infection. Whoever it was that was walking around has a later stage of hanahaki, though they were probably asymptomatic. However, they are still carriers, hence able to spread the infection through pollen.”

 

Sorn let out an audible sigh.

 

“So it’s not because of-”

 

Irene cuts her off before she can verbalise it.

 

“No, definitely not.”

 

She wiped the blood away before pressing the flat line of the needle into the mark she made, watching as the purple liquid gather under the skin before dispersing in faint, thin lines.

 

“I can tell that the both of you are very much in love. It’s definitely not because of that.”

 

SeungHee laughed and looked up towards Sorn, a cheeky smile forming on her face, looking significantly less flushed from before.

 

“Told you so.”

 

Sorn leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, Irene turning her head away to give the couple some privacy.

 

“Yeah, yeah. You’re all knowing, Ms Oh.”

 

Irene suppressed a smile and arranged her belongings back into her bag, leaving a few syringes out.

 

“Well then, can you call the rest of the household here? I’ll inject some preliminary vaccines just in case.”

 

She waited for Sorn to finish before turning back around, watching SeungHee with a light heart as the brunette shifted into a sitting position, one hand still holding the gauze on her arm in place. Reaching over, Irene took the stained gauze from her and dumped it into a yellow bag, taking out a plaster to cover the cut she had made.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Irene brushed her hair away from her neck, still inspecting the wound.

 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s part of my job.”

 

She gave it a pat and looked up, catching SeungHee staring intently at her neck. Blushing, she palmed her neck self consciously, rubbing at the tattoo that caught SeungHee’s attention. SeungHee coughed into her hand and pulled her gaze away, a question still present on her face.

 

“That’s an iris flower, isn’t it?”

 

Her thumb stopped for a moment before resuming, brushing past the petal twirling up towards her jaw.

 

“Yes. Everyone in our society has one.”

 

SeungHee tilted her head slightly, trying to catch a better look at the purple tattoo.

 

“Kind of like a badge, huh?”

 

Irene let out a breath, too low to be a laugh.

 

“It’s more like a warning, to be honest.”

 

SeungHee adjusted her position, taking care to avoid jostling her wound.

 

“A warning?”

 

Irene forced a smile on her lips, feeling like she had it on wrong despite how the corner of her lips did pull upwards to mimic one. She gathered the remaining syringes and tugged her bag onto her shoulder, pulling her hair away and covering the mark once more.

 

“That the doctors of the Iris Society are all walking time bombs.”

 

*

 

Irene bowed again as she exited the house, waving at the recently cured SeungHee and Sorn as she made her way to the car. Her eyes travelled down their arms and toward their intertwined fingers, Sorn pressed against SeungHee’s side as though she was making up for lost time, brown and golden strands of hair intermixed and shining golden in the evening sun.

 

Her smile dropped the moment she was in the car, the door sliding shut automatically as the systems booted up. She gripped the armrests tightly when the car lifted off the ground, a low humming sound accompanying the movement. There was a dip and then she was on her way, the hovercar making its way down the road smoothly. Leaning back, Irene flipped the communication button, waiting for her boss to pick up the call on the other end.

 

“Nana speaking.”

 

Nana’s extremely beautiful face took up the entire screen, eyes slanted downwards as she regarded something offscreen, fingers swiping midair on the holographic keyboard. Irene cleared and leant forward, bangs falling into her eyes.

 

“Irene here.”

 

Nana raised her head to look into the camera, the frown on her face melting away to a gentle smile.

 

“Already done?”

 

Irene nodded, pushing her hair back with one hand.

 

“Luckily, the patient has yet to reach the blooming stage. It was relatively easy.”

 

“Primary or secondary infection?”

 

“Secondary.”

 

Nana’s fingers paused midair.

 

“Have you found the primary host?”

 

Shaking her head, Irene pulled out her holopad, switching it to her notes.

 

“Unfortunately, no. I’ve gotten some information from the patient and her family, so I’ll begin my investigations shortly.”

 

Nana nodded and waved a hand, the screen she was prodding at changing colours.

 

“Alright. Keep me posted.”

 

“Will do.”

 

Irene switched off the call and leant back against her chair, a sigh escaping from her lips. She looked down at her notes, her nose twitching as she read through them yet again.

 

There weren't any places that we went to that were new.

 

She highlighted the areas that Sorn had said they visited right before they discovered SeungHee’s illness.

 

The friends we met with are all healthy, we’ve checked.

 

Opening a map in a new tab, Irene flicked her finger upwards, the screen splitting into two. She tapped on the highlighted areas and dragged it over to the map, drawing a path with the tip of her finger and marking the map with different colours.

 

There was something though.

 

She zoomed into the corner of a street, the picture blurring slightly before sharpening, the yellow brick wall of the building darkening slightly under the screen.

 

There was a street performer handing out flowers.

 

Irene took a look at the time and nodded, leaning forward to punch in the address.

 

The flowers were so red, as though someone had dipped them in blood.

 

“Your destination is set.”

 

Turning her holopad off, Irene settled into her seat, her eyes drawn to the skyline outside the window.

 

“Thank you.”

 

And the car sped down the road smoothly.

 

*

 

“This seems to be the place.”

 

The car slid into the parking in a singular hum, settling down onto the ground lightly before turning down. The windscreen turned black before blinking blue, signalling Iris’ official business status. Exiting the car, Irene pulled her bag onto her shoulder, taking a cursory glance at the building. Ignoring the people who had started to gather around her, she made her way towards the corner.

 

“Seems like they aren’t here today.”

 

Irene made her way towards the spot where the performer was said to have occupied, one hand digging into her bag for her glasses. Pushing the thin black spectacles onto her face, she clicked on the button located on the right side, she blinked the holograph into place, the soft thrill of the program starting in her ear. Tapping the frame once, Irene began her investigation in earnest.

 

Irene took in the readings of the air, taking note of the pollen distribution as well as the rate of decay, her frown deepening even as she took in the results.

 

“It’s too dense.”

 

She turned around, watching the red pollen float pass lazily, invisible to the eye.

 

“Probably should get a sanitisation team.”

 

She tapped twice on the frame, automatically calling for one and pulled the glasses off, wincing slightly at the change in light, her nose scrunching up adorably. Shaking her head, she placed the frame back into her bag, walking towards the cafe located by the corner.

 

The bell on the top of the door jingled when she opened it, the wide eyed workers scrambling to get back to work, the most obvious of the bunch stumbling away from the window where she had just been gawking. Stifling a sigh, Irene went up to the counter and flashed her tattoo, covering it with her hair once the manager went to one side.

 

“I have a couple of questions.”

 

The manager nodded, one hand coming up to tuck a lock of brown hair behind an ear.

 

“Was there a performer at the corner of the street? By the yellow bricks?”

 

The older woman nodded again.

 

“She used to come by pretty often. A singer.”

 

Irene pulled out the holopad again, flicking open the draw program.

 

“Can you describe her for me?”

 

The manager tried her best to describe the woman, of whom Irene could gather, was relatively pretty, with long dark hair and was quite tall. The face that ended up on her screen was someone familiar but Irene couldn’t place her, her memory failing her for a moment.

 

She coughed into her elbow and placed the holopad back into her bag, turning her attention towards the cafe manager again.

 

“One last question.”

 

She waited for the other woman to nod before continuing, ignoring the way the woman’s eyes had lingered on Irene’s face.

 

“This woman, was she handing out red flowers?”

 

Her face twisted slightly as the manager tried to remember the details, one eyebrow raising up higher than the other, eyes going slightly out of focus. Her fingers twisted her apron, tugging at the brown material and leaving a crease, a nail mark cutting past the dark coffee powder stain. Folding her arms, Irene leant back slightly and tilted her head to one side, patient and quiet.

 

“I think she did. As a gift to the people who gave her money.”

 

Irene smiled briefly at the answer, barely reacting to the way the manager had blinked at her, her eyes once again drawn to Irene’s face. Lowering her head, Irene thanked the manager quietly.

 

“Thank you for your cooperation. Your help was much appreciated.”

 

The manager fumbled her goodbyes but Irene had already breezed past her, hair flicking in the wind when she opened the door.

 

As she left, she heard a waitress calling out.

 

“Come back soon!”

 

Irene coughed into her elbow again, ignoring the red flecks that stained the sleeve.

 

***

 

“Wow, it’s beautiful under the microscope.”

 

Irene looked up from the reports she was perusing, one eyebrow raised at Wendy who was busy cooing at her slides excitedly. Shifting in her chair, she cleared softly, drawing the brunette’s attention away from the new strain of hanahaki they had managed to collect. The younger woman smiled, a red tinge on her cheeks while she rubbed at her temple self consciously.

 

“Sorry, sorry, got carried away.”

 

Irene shook her head, a smile pulling at the corner of her lips.

 

“Do remember that we’re here to see if the new cure we synthesised can kill that.”

 

She tilted her chin towards the microscope, looking away from Wendy’s bright smile.

 

“Of course, of course. But-”

 

And had the smile promptly in her space, Wendy’s face barely inches from her own.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with admiring how love manifests, don’t you think?”

 

Irene blinked, her brain jerking back into order and she pushed Wendy’s face away, her hand squishing the other woman’s nose.

 

“That’s not love, that’s obsession.”

 

Not one to be discouraged, Wendy grabbed Irene’s hand and pulled her along, the chair wheeling backwards and teetering dangerously.

 

“You don’t think it’s love?”

 

Irene tried to pull her hand away but eventually gave up, swept away (once again) by Wendy’s exuberance.

 

“I don’t think love should hurt other people.”

 

Wendy pursed her lips.

 

“No but love does cure it.”

 

Their knees knocked together lightly, Irene fumbling on her seat when the wheels clicked together, her chair tilting over slightly.

 

“Only if it’s returned.”

 

Wendy leant in, her forehead pressed against Irene’s, the heat blossoming from one to the other.

 

“But isn’t that the dream? To be kind, to be loved and loved in return?”

 

Irene’s brows furrow, her nose brushing past Wendy’s.

 

“I don’t understand?”

 

Wendy’s smile traced her upper lip, a trace of a burn starting from the top and making its way down Irene’s throat. Her chest seized slightly, a sharp pain stabbing at her ribcage, Irene pulling away from Wendy to cough away from Wendy.

 

“There’s a dream that someday all love can be nurtured and returned.”

 

Irene turned back towards Wendy, her face red from coughing.

 

“But that’s not possible. Because love can’t be forced.”

 

The smile Wendy gave her was beautiful, a drop of light in an ocean filled with darkness.

 

But just like the darkness that surrounded them, it sent a shiver down Irene’s spine, the beautiful smile hiding something, curling around Wendy’s lips like the vines they have seen from the hanahaki.

 

Wendy made her way back towards the microscope, her hands fiddling with the knobs.

 

“Come on, we have a job to do!”

 

***

 

“And these were the readings taken from the area the patient said to have come in contact with the flower.”

 

Irene waited for Nana to open the file that she had just sent her, watching as the blonde read the results carefully, a smile ticking on her lips. The blonde ran a hand through her already mussed up hair, sighing as she flicked the screen away, her eyes slipping shut as though she was trying to ward off a headache.

 

“Just like the others.”

 

Irene moved closer to the table, one hand splayed across the blue lines decorating the top.

 

“There are more?”

 

Nana sighed again and pinched the bridge of her nose, her other hand waving midair. The lines on the table converged into a graph, Irene maneuvering her body and tilting her head so that she could read the numbers in front of her. Frowning, she reached forwards with two fingers, pulling at a certain part of the graph and zooming in, a scoff exiting when she saw the percentage.

 

“And no one sent a sanitation team?”

 

Nana pushed her hand away gently and closed the graph, her fingers wrapping around Irene’s wrist and tugging it downward.

 

“Not until the first bloom. And then it was a full blown epidemic. That area is currently under quarantine.”

 

Irene clicked her tongue in displeasure.

 

“What were they thinking?”

 

Nana pulled Irene’s hand to her face and nuzzled into it, grinning up at Irene when Irene glared at her, playful and warm.

 

“However stupid the person in charge was, that is an issue of the past. But now there are more cases cropping up, it’s becoming an even bigger mess.”

 

Nana straightened up and stretched her arms above her head, leaving Irene’s hand to fall on the table gracelessly. Pulling a face, Irene rubbed at her hand indolently, her eyes trained on the sketch that she had submitted with her findings.

 

“What about the woman handing out the flowers? If it’s true, then she’s spreading the infection maliciously.”

 

Nana tapped at her chin twice before answering, her words coming out slow and careful.

 

“For now, I’ll have a team following up on this. As for you-”

 

The table lit up again, with several files swirling in the middle before zipping itself into a bag.

 

“These are your assignments.”

 

Irene saved them into a file and nodded, biting her lip to avoid the words huddled at the back of from jumping out.

 

With one last look at the sketch, she lowered her head respectfully.

 

“Then I’ll get started on it.”

 

Nana nodded, her attention already drawn to another report.

 

“Be safe.”

 

Irene grinned, waving a hand above her head.

 

“As safe as I can be.”

 

(Ironic.

 

Considering how she carried death with her in her chest, the broken ruins of love etched into the walls of a glass heart.)

 

***

 

“That area again? Leave it be, it’s probably another prank call.”

 

Irene looked up to see Wendy storming away from the call centre team, brown hair flicking in the air as she stomped her way towards Irene. Closing her book, Irene extended her arms in preparation and received an armful of Wendy, red faced and upset, mumbling into Irene’s shoulder.

 

“How can they say that?”

 

Irene rubbed Wendy’s lower back softly, adjusting her head so that Wendy could burrow into her shoulder.

 

(Soft.

 

Wendy was too soft for this line of work.)

 

She held back a cough, a whisper of discomfort passing her lips disguised as a click, her hands still drawing patterns on Wendy’s back.

 

“Every life is worth saving. Even if it isn’t clear in the beginning.”

 

(Soft.

 

Naive.)

 

Sighing, Irene moved her hands up and pressed her fingers against Wendy’s neck.

 

“Then shall we go?”

 

She waited for her words to sink in, moving again when Wendy’s head shot up, wide eyes blinking at her.

 

“Go?”

 

Irene smiled at the other woman, her hand moving from her neck to her cheek.

 

“To the place where the call came from.”

 

Wendy’s eyes grew even bigger, dropping down in surprise. She recovered quickly and pulled away from the hug, her words coming out in a stutter.

 

“Can we really?”

 

Irene’s lips pulled up into a lopsided smile, a light dimple forming by the right corner of her lips.

 

“If Nana doesn’t find out, why not?”

 

For about two ticks of a clock, Wendy did nothing but stare at Irene, disbelief etched in the lines of her face. soon turned up into a cheeky grin and she winked at Irene, instantly moving to get ready for the expedition.

 

“You’re right! I’ll go get our equipment.”

 

Irene opened in a futile motion, shaking her head fondly at the brunette who had bounded off, her earlier bout of tantrum shaken off easily. Humming to herself, Irene returned her attention to the screen earlier, one hand caressing her chest.

 

And she coughed again, hard and terrible, a sickly sticky sound resonating quietly from within.

 

*

 

“Is this the place?”

 

Irene turned to the kid, a gentle smile on her face.

 

The child pulled a face and turned his nose up at her, rushing off into the distance without answering her question.

 

(Irene could feel her vein pop on her forehead.)

 

Wendy laughed quietly, her eyebrow raising at the look on Irene’s face.

 

“I guess this would be the place then?”

 

Irene let out a huff and turned her head towards the door, checking for a doorbell she could ring.

 

“If this place turns out to be another false alarm, I’m going after that kid and I’m going to hang him over the bridge by his ankles.”

 

Shaking her head, Wendy brushed past Irene and rang the doorbell, cheekily grabbing Irene’s outstretched hand.

 

“As a doctor, didn’t you take a vow to do no harm?”

 

“I didn’t say I was going to let go.”

 

Wendy laughed again, turning her head towards the door when it cracked open, her smile slipping when a particularly nasty looking man growled at them.

 

“Who the are you?”

 

Irene’s upper lip twisted in distaste before she tampered the feeling down, putting on a neutral looking smile instead. Drawing in front of Wendy, Irene gave their introductions, swift and brief, with minimum respect.

 

“We’re doctors from the Iris Society. We’ve received a report that there might be a blooming happening at this location and would like to check it out.”

 

The man stared at them before spitting rudely, the both of them taking a step back to avoid the disgusting display.

 

“Who told you that?!”

 

Wendy piped in, her cheery demeanor dropping to a professional one.

 

“Our sources are anonymous, sir.”

 

(Irene had to admire the way she kept the disgust out of her expression.

 

She would have to learn that one day.)

 

His face contorted into a mimicry of a smile, his eyes condescending.

 

“Was it that bastard from down the road? When will you ‘doctors’ ever learn not to listen to him?”

 

(Irene wanted to punch him.

 

Do no harm.)

 

Wendy maintained the neutral expression on her face and pressed on, insistent yet polite.

 

“It is, however, our job to check any reports. After all, this is a life or death situation, sir.”

 

Sneering, he once again spat, leaving Irene to clench her fists tightly.

 

(I want to punch him in the face.)

 

“Well, you can take your asses back to your fancy office and call it a day. There’s no such blooming or whatever here.”

 

Wendy opened to argue, leaving Irene to peer over the man’s shoulder, her nose twitching slightly at the smell that wafted out of the apartment. She scrunched her nose and resisted the urge to pinch her nose, the smell too overwhelming for her.

 

And then her whole body froze.

 

(Beneath-

 

Just under the smell of unmistakable cologne and stink-)

 

She steeled herself and took a deep breath, the flowers in her chest reacting violently, vines pressing and twisting around her ribcage and thorns digging into the bruised walls of her heart. Coughing violently, Irene pressed a hand to to prevent a barrage of flowers ending up on the man’s face, drawing the attention of both Wendy and him.

 

“What the is wrong with her-”

 

Wendy cut him off easily, one hand pressing onto Irene’s back and the other wrapping around Irene’s wrist.

 

“Is there one?”

 

Trying to reign in her cough, Irene nodded, using her free hand to point over the man’s shoulder. Wendy looked up and took a glance, now offered more of a view of the interior of the apartment after the man had moved aside.

 

On the ground, there was a woman on the floor, bleeding and bruised, choking on her own saliva as she heaved, blood red petals mixing in with the actual blood on the ground. There was something green crawling out of , too small for them to determine and there was a slight waft of smoke surrounding her.

 

But most noticeably, now that they knew that there was a blooming, was the sickly sweet smell of the devil’s flower.

 

Wendy pulled herself away from Irene and pushed the man aside, frantically rushing towards the woman.

 

“Hey!”

 

Wendy roared over her shoulder.

 

“Shut up!”

 

Irene heaved in a breath, the flowers in her chest finally calming down and she levelled a glare at the dude who had already taken an indignant step towards Wendy. He flinched and cowered slightly, his foot dropping to the ground and slipping. Pulling out a pair of gloves out of her bag, Irene tugged them on quickly before smacking the man on the chest, her glare sharpening.

 

“I hope you know you just risked the life of everyone in this apartment building.”

 

He quivered shakily, his knees knocking together as he raised his chin at Irene.

 

“S-so what! She’s just a who-”

 

He didn’t manage to finish his sentence, falling silent when Irene put a finger to her lips, the glove barely grazing her skin. Her glare had deepened further, her eyes sharp enough to cut through diamonds. Wisely, the man kept quiet, leaving Irene to move towards Wendy, falling in step as she took over the prep of the patient. Wendy nodded at her gratefully and dug around for her scalpel, her voice not betraying the urgency in her movements.

 

“Hey, there. What’s your name?”

 

The woman coughed slightly.

 

“Theresa-”

 

Irene twisted the cap of the needle on tightly before pulling out a vial, snapping it securely in the chamber present in the syringe while Wendy cleaned the area at the crook of her elbow. Passing the syringe over, Irene then took the scalpel that Wendy had given her, handle first, and swiped at the vine crawling from her nostrils, watching as it crumbled to dust.

 

“I’ll be giving you the cure now. It will sting a bit.”

 

Theresa coughed violently, leaving Wendy struggling to find a gauze to press to the bleeding wound she had made. Again, Irene cut another piece of vine that had made its way out of Theresa’s mouth, her coughs subsiding once the offending item fell apart. Quickly, Wendy pressed the needle to the wound site and injected the entire vial into her arm, her skin blooming purple before dispersing.

 

The effect was immediate.

 

The air around them lifted, allowing for them to breathe a little easier and Theresa calmed down enough to fall asleep, her injuries notwithstanding. Nodding, Irene left Wendy to the aftercare, pulling another syringe out. She got to her feet and stalked towards the man who was still standing at the doorway, his face contorted into an ugly expression.

 

(A flare of anger sparked at the base of her stomach.)

 

She held her hand out, her tone flat and commanding.

 

“Arm.”

 

He gave his arm wordlessly, wincing when Irene injected him without care, barely taking the time to think about sterilisation or anything.

 

He crumpled to the floor immediately, knocked out from the anaesthetic Irene had given him.

 

Tossing him a careless glance, she pulled out her phone and dialled for the Iris Society’s emergency services.

 

And the police.

 

(Behind her, Wendy laughed quietly to herself, unable to bring herself to reprimand Irene for the breach of conduct.)

 

***

 

Why couldn’t it have been you?

 

***

 

“I can’t believe I’m back here again.”

 

Irene squinted at the building in front of her, one hand coming up to shield her face from the sun. The building loomed over her, dark and imposing like before, filled with people who continued to look at her warily.

 

(Before, when they had come here of their own accord, it was noisy, lively even.

 

But she didn’t mind.

 

Even when Nana had punished her for her misconduct, there was no lingering regret.

 

Because they had saved someone.

 

And destroyed the root of a problem.

 

But now-)

 

“Six cases in a week. That’s a lot even for a closed environment like this.”

 

(When they closed that case, Wendy had smiled at her, wide and bright, overpowering the sun setting behind her, the glow of it surrounding her like a halo.

 

She had smiled and told Irene to believe.)

 

Irene sighed and walked towards the entrance, adjusting the collar of her white coat, fingers smoothing out the creases. One step into the building had her snapping her hand to her face, the overwhelming stench of flowers stabbing through her nose and into her brain, sharp and painful and none too pleasant. She dug into her bag for her mask filter, snapping it on with ease and cutting off the smell, taking a deep breath in relief when the flowers in her chest settled down.

 

(Always alive.

 

Always painful.

 

Always hoping.)

 

“Got to work fast.”

 

Pulling out a pair of gloves and her glasses, she made her way towards the first apartment, her brow furrowing in concentration.

 

*

 

“That’s the fifth one.”

 

Irene pulled off her gloves and disposed of them into the yellow bag, lowering her head to the most recent patient before heading out. The air around her was still murky, her filter barely keeping the pollen out of her system the higher up she went.

 

It’s almost as if-

 

Something crashed behind her, echoing through the corridor loudly and she whipped around quickly, just in time to find a girl running off, a panicked look on her face. Irene took off after her without thinking, skidding to a stop when the smell overpowered her mask, sending the putrid stench of red flowers down . She coughed, bending over and ripping the mask off, spewing flowers and leaves onto the ground, a mixture of blue and yellow flower petals littering the grey linoleum floor.

 

This is-!

 

She wiped with the back of her hand and ran after the dark haired girl, ignoring the clawing pain twisting behind her ribcage, terrible and relentless.

 

She turned a corner and saw the black hair disappearing into a room, the door slammed shut quickly. Clicking her tongue in annoyance, she walked up to the door and pressed her fingers to her glasses, the clear lens turning blue and then black.

 

Nana’s voice crackled in her ear.

 

“What is it?”

 

Struggling to catch her breath, Irene spoke into the microphone quickly, her hands pulling out a gun like device from her bag.

 

“There’s a fully bloomed flower in this building!”

 

There was a rush in her ears and then something dull sounding resonating and then-

 

“Get a team over to Irene’s location now!”

 

Irene huffed impatiently.

 

“I’m going in first!”

 

“Irene, wait-”

 

She whipped her glasses off and stuffed them into her bag unceremoniously, pulling out another complicated silver contraption and attached it to the door. Twisting the handle, Irene braced herself when the device started clicking, closing her eyes instinctively when the door flew off the hinges with a loud bang. Pulling the tool off the door, she quickly went into the room, holding her breath the entire time.

 

And was greeted with a horrendous sight.

 

In the middle of the room, displacing everything, was a giant plant. The stem, thicker than the woman who was hugging it desperately, had sunken into the floor which had somehow miraculously held the weight of it. The branches and vines had woven into the walls and ceilings, painting the room a sickly green, ominous and terrifying.

 

However, what had caught her attention so vividly were the red glowing flowers sprouting from every direction, demonic and beautiful, leaking pollen into the atmosphere, lingering as though they were cradled by the wind.

 

Irene gagged on air, turning her head away from the incessant smell, her head spinning from the force of it. Forcing herself to concentrate, she zoned in on the dark haired girl hugging the flowers, matching her glare with one of her own, like the sky reflecting onto golden sands in the desert.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

The girl flinched but continued to block the flowers, her breathing ragged.

 

“Krystal.”

 

Irene bent her knees slightly, moving closer to Krystal with one step, slowly and carefully, as though she was dealing with a spooked animal.

 

“Alright, Krystal. I need you to move away from that hanahaki. Slowly, so it doesn’t activate again.”

 

Krystal wrapped her arms even tighter around the stem of the plant, her face contorting in desperation.

 

“No! You stay away!”

 

Irene pushed down her irritation and edged closer, her hand tightening around the spray gun.

 

“Please move away from the flower, it’s dangerous.”

 

Krystal shook her head furiously, tears dripping down her face.

 

“She’s not! She’s just throwing a tantrum because you’re here. If you would just leave, she would be fine!”

 

(Irene had heard of this before, people talking about the flowers like they were sentient, as though the person it had bloomed from was still trapped in the stems and branches and flowers that were killing nearly everyone else.

 

She has heard of this, witnessed as these people seemed unharmed in the face of such demonic entities, as though the flowers had spared their loved ones from such a fate.

 

And she hoped -)

 

She steadied the spray gun in her hand, wrapping her other hand around the grip and a thumb on the release, taking another step towards Krystal.

 

“Throwing a tantrum means almost killing people?”

 

Dark hair whipped across Krystal’s face as she protested loudly, gleaming purple under the ominous light.

 

“She’s just scared! Just leave us alone!”

 

Irene’s thumb pressed on the release, readying herself to aim at the flowers.

 

“I can’t do that. There were five cases here today. If I leave this hanahaki be, it will be fifty soon.”

 

Krystal flung her body in front of the plant, her hackles raised and set in a snarl, eyes filled with sandstorms and landslides, the grains of sands moved by her fury.

 

“You can’t kill her! I won’t let you!”

 

And as though the flowers were reacting to Krystal’s anguish, they flared up, taking a life of its own. The building started groaning, the vines digging deeper into the walls, sending paint flecks and plaster raining down on their heads when the walls cracked. New flowers started to bloom and the branches loomed over them dangerously, the pollen suffocating and thick.

 

Krystal turned toward the flowers immediately, her voice low and quiet, cracking from distress.

 

“Calm down, please calm down - I won’t let anyone else hurt you ever again.”

 

Irene jumped and pulled Krystal back just as the vines shot forward, wrapping around empty air. Krystal stumbled slightly and yanked her arm away from Irene, barely giving the woman a glance.

 

“Please! Please calm down! I’m right here!”

 

There was a low shriek, as though the flowers were screaming in response. The ground beneath them tilted, the both of them slipping on their feet and tumbling forward. Irene reached out to grab anything to steady themselves but it was too late as vines slipped around their waists tightly, pulling them into the nest of flowers that had bloomed in the middle.

 

Irene’s chest lurched, sending a bile of flowers up and splattering all over the ground, blue and purple petals staining the splotchy crimson claws surrounding them. Her nose clogged up and her vision swam, the pollen invading her system like waves breaking tide against sand.

 

“Please, please, I’m right here. You’ll be safe, I promise you.”

 

The flowers bloomed even brighter, the vines practically crushing their rib cages with its force. The gun nearly slipped out of her grip but Irene managed to hold onto it, her fingers straining even as the flowers continued to try and suffocate them.

 

“Please-”

 

Irene snapped at Krystal, her voice coming out choked around the petals that kept escaping past her lips.

 

“Stop! This is no longer your important person! This is a demon who thinks nothing of you!”

 

Krystal turned towards her with wide eyes, her tears streaking her face, dripping off her chin like raindrops running down a window pane.

 

“No! Don’t say that-”

 

Irene cut her off sharply, trying her best to keep her flower deep in her chest.

 

“The person you love is no longer here! Do not taint her memory with this monstrosity!”

 

Something cracked in Krystal’s expression, a broken piece of a heart crumbling to dust, never to return again, another victim in this senseless crime of passion. She lowered her head pitifully, choking on her words and pollen, tears weaving through her voice.

 

“She’s all I had left. And I wasn’t there for her- If I can’t save her now, then when-”

 

She let out a wail, causing the flowers to glow even brighter.

 

“I should have been stronger- I should have saved her!”

 

Irene’s grip on the gun faltered slightly, an image of something flashing in her mind, something that hit too close to home.

 

I could’ve saved her!

 

“Then will you continue to let her suffer like this?”

 

Krystal looked up at her, her eyes shining with tears.

 

“What?”

 

Irene’s voice grew stronger, her body jerking towards Krystal despite the bindings around her.

 

“I’m asking if you’ll continue running away and let her suffer like this?”

 

Krystal didn’t answer, understanding clear in her eyes but a reluctance to accept.

 

But Irene pressed on.

 

“I know you don’t want her to kill. We know who called it in, all the infections. It has been you all the while.”

 

There was a tremble present in Krystal’s gaze, unable to look away from Irene even though Irene knew it was all she wanted to do.

 

“People only see what they want to see, especially when it comes to the people they love. Even if it is just a delusion, they will cling onto it however they can, just to feel a part of that person. That’s why we have these flowers.”

 

(Because that was what humans always did in the face of their loved ones.

 

To hide.

 

To delude themselves.)

 

“But you were worried about your neighbours. You made sure they got help in time, despite the fact that you’re hoarding her here, and you made sure that they were cured.”

 

(There was a memory Irene could recall, of a strength she wished the person she held dear had.

 

A strength that she can see within Krystal.)

 

“You’re strong. But you’re also human. You just lost your way for a bit.”

 

She lifted the gun in her hand and held it out to Krystal, ignoring the low scream coming from the flowers and the pressure in her chest, thorns clawing up in response to the onslaught of pollen.

 

“So I’ll ask you again. Will you continue to let her suffer like this?”

 

Krystal stared at the gun, her lower lip trembling.

 

“I don’t know how to let her go.”

 

Irene blinked, feeling the question settle under her skin like an itch. She shook her head lightly, pushing the feeling dragging itself up the base of her spine and offered the gun again.

 

“You can learn. You can remember her as the person she was, the wonderful person that she was and you can learn to let her go. You can learn to live with the memories.”

 

She jerked her head towards the flowers, now larger than ever, heads drooping from the weight.

 

“Just don’t leave her like this. No one deserves it.”

 

There was a pause, long enough for Irene to doubt that Krystal would ever take the gun from her hands.

 

And then, slowly, shakily, but surely, Krystal lifted the spray gun from her hand, aiming the nozzle at the biggest of the flowers. Her breathing had grown shallow and her tears continued to flow freely but there was determination in her face.

 

As well as a farewell.

 

And quietly, softly, easily carried away by the wind, Krystal whispered something under her breath, too soft for Irene to hear.

 

(But she knew what it was.

 

It was a goodbye.)

 

Her finger pressed on the release button and the serum dispersed out quickly, purple mist spreading through the space and enveloping them.

 

The flowers shrieked in retaliation but it was too late.

 

The effect was instantaneous.

 

Immediately, the vines binding them loosened, shrivelling up and crumbling away, the flowers losing their colour and dropping to the ground, flecks of petals floating in the air before disappearing. The branches and roots that had burrowed into the building slowly receded, pulling parts of the wall and the floor with them. Irene dropped to her knees heavily, feeling the bruises that would definitely form later acutely.

 

She ignored the pain shooting through her body, her breathing growing easier as the pollen continued to lessen, and she scrambled to Krystal’s side.

 

The dark haired girl was cradling one last flower in her arms, her sobs filling the empty space in the room.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

 

And then, impossible but true, a voice echoed through the room, loud enough to catch Krystal’s attention.

 

Thank you.

 

I love you.

 

Krystal dropped the flower in her arm and reached out towards the voice, her grief painting the air around her a deep purple.

 

“I love you too.”

 

(Irene stayed with her until the team from Iris came, holding this girl in her arms and offering comfort that she never knew she could give.

 

And with a fervent wish in her heart that she too can hear those words one day.)

 

***

 

Wendy bent over panting, the fatigue from the newest job settling into her bones, accepting the drink from Irene absentmindedly. They took a long sip from the can, standing side by side while the ground staff pulled out the victims of the most recent bloom from the wreckage, loading them onto ambulances to be sent to hospitals for further treatment.

 

Irene took this moment to observe Wendy, the other woman oblivious to the attention, her usually cheery disposition dropped in the face of the horror they had just witnessed. Without her mask, Irene was able to see every anguish, every burden that Wendy took upon herself, for every life that they did not manage to save.

 

It was etched in the lines by her eyes and the frown that came easier to a face that should only be smiling. Without people looking, Wendy’s broken spirit was easy to see, scattered pieces of a fragmented wish digging deep into flesh, drawing blood as surely as the vines and flowers they were meant to stop. Her naive thoughts on love, on how she would save the world with it, were challenged repeatedly, beaten and bruised to the point of no return, only knowing pain.

 

Without thinking, Irene reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Wendy’s ear. The brunette was so distracted by the scene in front of her that she barely reacted, merely turning her cheek into the touch, soft under Irene’s fingertips. Her eyes stared at the stretchers that never seemed to stop, only responding when the relief aids brought out a smaller stretcher, a white cloth covering the body it was covering.

 

Her finger caught the tear that escaped from Wendy’s left eye, the brunette staring after the child that they had failed to save. Her breathing was shaky and she reached up to grasp at Irene’s hand tightly, pressing into Irene’s skin as though she wanted to melt into Irene’s touch.

 

(It was hard, even for Irene, this time around.

 

A fully bloomed flower had exploded within the building with little warning, causing a spread of infection so fast that when they had arrived on scene, there were even more flowers digging into the ground. The area had been littered with bodies, dead and alive alike and the emergency services couldn’t get close enough to rescue those who were still breathing.

 

It was, to put it lightly, an execution that they had to carry out.

 

Their cures were kept aside for large spray guns, the Iris doctors rushing in like SWAT members rather than medical professionals, gunning down rogue flowers that had already reached a stage where they could kill a host within minutes.

 

But it was at the primary site of blooming that had Wendy screaming in pain.

 

At the base of the plant, wrapped up in vines and flowers till he was barely recognisable, was a small boy, at most only five years old.

 

He had been clinging onto the stem of the plant tightly, calling for his dead mother with all his might, even as flowers started spitting from his mouth, vermilion and dangerous, choking him with every syllable.

 

Wendy had been the one to pull the trigger.

 

Wendy had already been the one to pronounce him dead.

 

But it was the hanahaki’s last words that broke Wendy’s rose coloured glasses, splintering them into her eyes and prying them wide open, as the newest evolution of the plant drove shock down their spines.

 

Take care of my son.)

 

“What is the point?”

 

Irene turned her head towards Wendy, watching as tears mapped Wendy’s face, painting her grief and her regrets into life.

 

“What point?”

 

The hand she was holding was shaking badly, whether from rage or sorrow, Irene can’t tell.

 

“What is the point of this, of love, if a kid has to die for it? How is it love when it hurts everyone around them?”

 

Wendy covered her face with her other hand, smearing her tears with the dust coating her face.

 

“What has the world become that love is a murder weapon?”

 

(And when rose coloured glasses were removed, it was always impossible to put them back on.

 

No matter how hard you wished to.)

 

Irene cleared , swallowing the petals that had gathered at the back of , coating her esophagus and the insides of her lungs.

 

“But love has always killed.”

 

Irene waited for Wendy to look at her before continuing, words that she had kept inside for so long spilling out without stopping.

 

“Love has always been a reason for murder. The only difference was that it was done through human hands. But now?”

 

She waved a hand at the carnage in front of her, further pulling Wendy back into reality.

 

“Love has evolved to the point where even existing is dangerous. But make no mistake, it has always been dangerous.”

 

(She can no longer stand aside and watch as Wendy went around with her naive thoughts.

 

These thoughts will kill her at the end of it.)

 

“Love has always been dangerous.”

 

Wendy pulled her hand away from Irene, her eyes refusing to meet Irene’s.

 

“Then what’s the point of saving people?”

 

Irene looked away, the petals collecting in , digging into soft flesh as surely as the thorns digging into her heart.

 

“Because we hope that humanity can be saved.”

 

She spat the mouthful of flowers onto the ground, watching as they crumbled under the mist of the cure, much like the love in her heart that would never be realised.

 

***

 

“There was a store downtown. They were selling ‘cures’ to the flowers.”

 

The dark haired girl burrowed into the blanket, tucking her chin into the folds of it as she answered Irene’s question, flinching every time a medic pulled out another person on a stretcher.

 

(Though, thankfully, this time there were no deaths.)

 

“They told me, as long as I watered-”

 

She choked on a name before continuing, keeping that name close to her heart.

 

“As long as I watered the hanahaki with it, it would be manageable.”

 

Irene nodded, her holopad whirring quietly as she recorded the interview.

 

“That’s how you managed to hide the hanahaki for so long?”

 

Krystal nodded, her eyes glazing over.

 

“It was fine at first. Then it started losing effect. First it was the next door neighbours getting infected. Then it went further and further until-”

 

Her body jerked, her fingers tightening around the blanket.

 

“She was fine. She was normal at first. And then she started throwing tantrums and I had to call you guys in more and more-”

 

She dug her knuckles into her eye sockets, pressing her tears away.

 

“But they said it would work. They promised me it would work and that one day I’ll have-”

 

A sob ripped out of and she buried her face into her lap, bending over as she cried.

 

Irene reached over and rubbed at her back consolingly, her fingers molding into the notches of her back, writing comfort onto skin.

 

She waited for the sobs to subside before continuing gently, passing Krystal a cloth to wipe her face with.

 

“What did they promise you?”

 

Krystal bit her lower lip, lowering her head in shame.

 

“That she could be by my side forever.”

 

She closed her eyes, clearly ending the interview, leaving Irene to silence. The doctor sighed and switched off her holopad, her hand reaching over to squeeze Krystal’s shoulder.

 

“Stay safe.”

 

*

 

“That’s not possible. There’s only one known cure to hanahaki and it was made by us.”

 

Nana stared at the recording with a frown, resting her chin on her palm. She tapped at her cheek with her fingers, brushing at the tattoo that was present on her skin, a blue brighter than the purple Irene adorned. Irene waved at the recording, rewinding it to when Krystal had spoken about the mysterious shop.

 

“Whatever it is, it holds some merit. A flower that size, for it to only infect so little at a time, this drug Krystal had bought was working.”

 

Nana leant back into her chair, looking up to the ceiling and sighing loudly. She started massaging her temples, grumbling all the while.

 

Irene sat there quietly, her attention trained on Krystal’s image.

 

“If we include this event, there have already been twelve abnormal hanahaki sightings.”

 

Irene agreed softly.

 

“Are there any leads on the woman who was handing out those flowers?”

 

Nana shook her head, hands dropping back on the table where she pressed on another file, the red flower that Sorn had talked about taking Krystal’s place.

 

“No, but we managed to track the flower via our pollen detection system. It is definitely a hanahaki strain, albeit less aggressive.”

 

Irene pondered on it thoughtfully, her fingers rubbing at the Iris flower on her neck again.

 

“To have a flower that isn’t aggressive and can release pollen periodically so that the patient doesn’t immediately turn-”

 

She blinked, clarity clearing the haze that had been following her the entire time.

 

“Doesn’t that mean that someone is experimenting with the hanahaki?”

 

Nana nodded, the holograph in front of them widening to show the twelve cases that they had spoken about.

 

“And it would seem that we are their lab rats.”

 

Irene’s back slumped, the flowers in her chest wrapping around her ribcage in tandem with the unease that made itself known in troves, splashing over her like a long rain after a dry day.

 

“Then we will have to move fast.”

 

Nana’s lips twisted, something sharp settling behind sun reflected eyes.

 

“Except we don’t know what we’re moving against. We’re already understaffed to the point that the doctors who are usually working in pairs are now working solo.”

 

She tilted her chin towards Irene as though making a point, blonde hair falling past her shoulder with one graceful sweep.

 

Irene’s lips thinned into a line and she shrugged carelessly, tapping at the mark on her neck.

 

“Then it’s our job as doctors to fight against this infection. No matter how tiring it may be.”

 

She left the room with Nana’s smile at the back of her mind, sad and tired, like they all were in this constant battle against something that never relented.

 

*

 

In this world, would I ever hear those words from you?

 

Will I ever be loved in return?

 

***

 

“Where would your tattoo be?”

 

Irene looked up to find a brunette standing in front of her, a wide smile on her face, one that reached her eyes, warming molten gold into a gift, secrets kept behind long eyelashes. Clearing , Irene shrugged, unsure of how to respond to such joy.

 

The other woman was undeterred, stretching out her arm to offer Irene a handshake.

 

“I’m Wendy, you?”

 

Taking the hand offered to her gingerly, Irene shook it once, responding in a low voice.

 

“Irene.”

 

Wendy took a seat beside her, her knee brushing with Irene’s, the smile on her face never leaving.

 

“It’s your first day?”

 

Irene nodded, her eyes darting over to the branding line, watching out for her number.

 

“Mine too! Who’s your supervisor? I was placed under Nana.”

 

Irene felt something settle in her heart, heavy and foreign, a sprout of something that she had never felt before.

 

“She is my supervisor as well.”

 

The smile in Wendy’s eyes brightened, akin to the sun rising upon a new day, rays of soft yellow light chasing away the shadows and the regrets of the night, the promise of a good morning that came after a goodnight. The brunette reached over and took Irene’s hand in hers, the uptick of her lips drawing Irene’s attention away from her eyes.

 

“Then we will be working together!”

 

There was an energy behind Wendy’s words that Irene couldn’t place, dragging her deeper into Wendy’s being. It was both suffocating and relieving, painful and painless, an enigma in simple times. She dropped her gaze to their joined hands before looking up again as Wendy had started speaking again, in a way that was familiar yet unfamiliar.

 

“So, where would you be putting your mark?”

 

Irene pondered on it before throwing the question back towards Wendy.

 

“What about you?”

 

Wendy beamed, a show of teeth that was happier than their situation allowed.

 

“I thought of getting it behind my ear because it’s the closest to my brain.”

 

Tilting her head in confusion, Irene let out a breath, her question wrapping around her tongue and escaping past her lips.

 

“Why your brain?”

 

Wendy tapped her temple with her other hand.

 

“Back then, they said purple irises were the symbol of wisdom. So, my brain.”

 

Irene pursed her lips.

 

“We’re only getting the colour purple because of our rank.”

 

Wendy let out a laugh, brown hair falling over her eyes, a pool of sand trickling behind the shade, staring intently at Irene.

 

“But it seems appropriate, don’t you think?”

 

Irene shrugged, her free hand reaching up to rub at her neck.

 

“I guess.”

 

She avoided Wendy’s gaze boring into the side of her face, unsure what to do in response to such intensity.

 

“Why don’t you get it on your neck?”

 

Irene’s hand paused momentarily.

 

“Huh?”

 

Wendy reached over and brushed her fingers against Irene’s, her other hand tightening its grip.

 

“Get it here. It’s supposed to be our reminder and since you seem to have a habit of rubbing your neck...”

 

She trailed off at the look Irene gave her before coughing conspicuously, looking the other way.

 

“Just a thought.”

 

Irene huffed and turned her head towards the branding line, jerking her hand out of Wendy’s grasp when she saw her number flashing on the screen.

 

“It’s my turn now.”

 

She left without saying anything else, carefully not looking back at this woman, this strange woman who pushed the roots of her heart deep into Irene’s soul, planting a garden of flowers without her permission.

 

The artist looked at her wearily, eyes bloodshot but hands steady.

 

“What colour and where?”

 

Irene cleared and pointed at her neck.

 

“Purple.”

 

The artist nodded and set about sterilising her workspace, working quietly and efficiently.

 

Irene watched her carefully.

 

And then-

 

She coughed once.

 

*

 

“Hey, Irene!”

 

Irene’s fingers paused around the straps on her thigh, disbelief freezing her movements as she watched Wendy bounce up to her, decked out in the same uniform. Her eyes slid over to the tag sewn on the right shoulder, where it said-

 

“I guess we’re partners!”

 

-the exact same thing on her own shoulder. Her brain short circuited, with only one sentence running through her mind, her fingers slipping and dropping the straps onto the ground, the utility belt meeting the floor with a loud thud.

 

What kind of coincidence?

 

Wendy waved a hand in front of her face.

 

“Hey, are you doing okay?”

 

Irene snapped out of her daze, crouching down to take her utility belt quickly.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine!”

 

She put it on hurriedly, accidentally cutting into her leg when she made it too tight, the buckle leaving an impression on her dress pants.

 

“Here, let me help you.”

 

Wendy’s fingers brushed past hers, taking over easily. She unlooped the belt and buckled it neatly, patting Irene once on the leg with a smile.

 

“There, all done.”

 

Irene could feel her face flushing, nodding in thanks before looking away, feeling the heat travel from her face to her ears.

 

(And promptly made a mistake.)

 

“Oh, you got the mark at your neck after all!”

 

Her hand flew towards her neck, covering something that had already been shown.

 

“I-”

 

Wendy laughed, her joy carrying through the white corridor, eyes sparkling underneath the harsh lighting.

 

“It looks really good.”

 

She flushed even harder, thankful that Wendy chose to ignore the fact that she was imitating a tomato. Grabbing the rest of her pack, she swung her bag on her shoulder, tilting her head towards the door.

 

“Shall we?”

 

Wendy’s lips remained in their upturn position but a serious glint entered her eyes, hardening molten gold into burning lava.

 

But her word didn’t match the look in her eyes, unbelievably naive and heroic.

 

“Let’s go save the world.”

 

She walked through the door, leaving Irene to follow her in confusion.

 

(Did she really think she could save the world?)

 

***

 

Irene stepped into the cafe, spotting the manager that was here the last time. Brushing her pants off, she made her way towards the woman, glasses already perched on her nose. The woman was chewing on her lip nervously, startling slightly when she saw Irene.

 

“Oh, you’re here already!”

 

Irene nodded sharply, cutting anything the manager might want to say with her own reply.

 

“Where is the woman you saw?”

 

The manager’s face twisted slightly, her lower lip already patchy and bleeding from earlier.

 

“She’s right there.”

 

She pointed out of the window, the opposite side of the road where a convenience store was located. Irene peered out of the curtained window carefully, taking care to avoid showing herself. She tapped her frame once, blinking the sudden flash of light away when she took a picture of a red haired woman handing out flowers, a soft smile on her face. The flowers in her basket looked harmless, if it wasn’t for the deep blood red it came in.

 

Nana’s voice rang in her ear.

 

“Is that the woman?”

 

Irene answered in affirmative.

 

“She changed her hair but it’s her.”

 

Nana let out a breath.

 

“When she moves, tail her. Don’t let her see you.”

 

“Got it.”

 

Irene turned to the manager, placing a hand on the free table by the window.

 

“Can you get me a cup of hot chocolate? Thank you.”

 

The cafe manager blinked twice before hurrying away, taking one glance back at Irene who had already taken a seat. She adjusted her position so that she could see the red haired woman but hidden away just enough that the flower girl wouldn’t see her.

 

And then she waited.

 

*

 

It was hours before the lady moved, her basket empty save for a few petals that fluttered to the ground. Irene stood up quickly, keeping an eye on her, calling for the bill while she watched as the red haired woman pulled out a thin device. Waving her watch over the pay machine the waitress had brought over, Irene left without saying goodbye, her glasses lighting up light blue as they tracked the woman’s physique.

 

She followed from a distance, using the system to keep an eye on her target. As she moved with the suspect, the nagging feeling that she knew this woman burrowed in her stomach, pushing her to remember.

 

She jumped about a mile into the air when Nana’s voice sounded in her ear, her supervisor updating her on the others’ progress.

 

“Be careful, the rest of the team was saying that the trail ran cold very quickly. These people are very good at what they do.”

 

Irene rounded a corner and flattened her back against the wall, the image on her glasses blinking in yellow.

 

“I got it. Did the facial recognition system pick anyone up?”

 

Nana clicked her tongue loudly, her distaste clear even on a line.

 

“It didn’t. But the system is saying that the data has been removed.”

 

Irene chanced a look around the corner, spotting the red haired woman staring at a wall in the distance.

 

“Someone hacked into our database?”

 

“It would seem that way.”

 

Nana let out a frustrated sound, Irene wincing when the line crackled loudly.

 

“We’re checking to see where the breach came from but it doesn’t seem like it would yield any results soon- What the heck was that?”

 

There was a huge beaming sound and Irene took another look, just in time for her to see the woman walk through a shimmering wall.

 

“I have to go, she’s getting away.”

 

Nana’s reply was cut off when Irene tapped the frame, the doctor running forward towards the wall, expecting to hit solid brick when she phased right through.

 

And was caught in the arms of the person she was following.

 

She looked up to the woman’s face, the feeling in her stomach solidifying into a fact, the name of the suspect finally ringing clear in her mind.

 

“Joy.”

 

Joy’s face twisted into a smile, all teeth and no mirth, her eyes flashing with muted anger.

 

“Hello, Irene.”

 

She opened to question when a sharp pain resonated at the back of her neck, Irene twisting around to see another person standing there, another familiar face that she thought she would never see again.

 

“You-”

 

And that was the last thing she saw.

 

***

 

“Do you ever think just why we’re the ones who can’t progress to the second stage of the infection?”

 

Wendy looked up to the stars above them, her hands wrapped around a can of beer. Irene pondered on the question carefully, inwardly noting the tired lines that decorated the corners of Wendy’s eyes, the dull gleam of a sunset darkened by a cloud, a galaxy of stars in space.

 

(Beautiful to look at.

 

But dangerous.)

 

She answered slowly, placing her own drink on the seat next to her, minding the white of her coat that had billowed out.

 

“Isn’t it because our love is pure?”