Bettaowl: This idea had me in a chokehold and refused to let go, so here we are. I actually really do love Hanahaki AUs unironically, so I offered the original idea of remixing the Hanahaki AU to K_Morpho. Then it progressively spiraled from there.

K_Morpho: I am very pleased with this interpretation! Hanahaki AUs tend to be a cesspool of angst by the nature of its prompt but we wanted something a little more lighthearted. This fic has been extremely delightful to work on and I always love the idea of contributing variety to well-loved existing tropes.

Jiwoo's pedaling as if her life depended on it, matching her breathing to the erratic swings of the camera around her neck and the explosion of her heartbeat. She fires uphill and into the driveway.

Kicking up the piled snow once― her stubborn bike stand twice― thrice― until it finally parks properly, she immediately bounds towards her destination, pounding on Jungeun’s door.

Jungeun appears in the doorway after the sixth knock, sweater two sizes too large and a pair of fluffy sweatpants Jiwoo gifted her a Christmas ago.

Jungeun opens . She’s about to say something, snarky probably, which reminds Jiwoo why she needed to see her best friend in person in the first place.

“I have a problem,” Jiwoo bursts out. “Like a really big and weird problem.”

Jungeun’s brows pinch together. “Come in, you’re letting the heat out.”

Jiwoo squirms her snow-covered boots off, then follows Jungeun to her bedroom. Her fingers tingle with the temperature difference. The snowflakes on her hair begin to melt away.

She peels off her outer layers and sits down on the carpet, coughing to try to relieve the tickle in . Jungeun plops down, joining her on the ground.

“Should you have really biked here with a cold?” Jungeun asks with a frown.

“I don’t have a cold. It’s not a― cold,” Jiwoo doubles over as she coughs with a fury, feeling coarse like it’s rubbing itself raw with sandpaper.

“Woah, easy.” Jungeun’s instantly by her side, rubbing circles on Jiwoo’s back. “You’re not really helping your case.”

When she rights herself again, Jiwoo pulls off her mask and a flurry of dry petals spill from her hands and onto the floor. The pain of a sore throat lingers. Jungeun’s expression is rather comical, eyes wide and darting back from the pile of dark floral feathers to Jiwoo, as if trying to make sense of whether it was a spring breeze that just swept through her bedroom or a winter flu.

“I don’t actually know what it is exactly,” Jiwoo rasps. “And I’m kind of like really freaked out.”

Jungeun starts to look more concerned when she hears the strain in Jiwoo’s voice. “Do you need something to drink? Water or tea or―?”

“Something warm would be nice.”

Jungeun returns with tea in record time. She uses her foot to brush aside the mass of petals, sitting down opposite to Jiwoo, who winces when she takes a sip of the still-burning tea.

“So,” Jungeun starts, gesturing to her covered carpet. “Any idea how this happened? Did you accidentally inhale a seed down your windpipe? Did it germinate in your lungs?”

Jiwoo shoots Jungeun an annoyed look, though her lips are twitching up. There’s a cute strawberry band-aid on her thumb that she fiddles at the corners of. “Actually, I might have an idea.”

She removes the band-aid, revealing a budding yellow-green sprout unfurling from a pinkish, open cut. Jungeun stares at the break in her skin, taking Jiwoo’s hand into hers to inspect the growth even further. Jiwoo involuntarily jolts from how warm Jungeun’s hands are.

“Jiwoo…what?”

“About a week ago I was doing nature photography in the forest, and I saw these pretty pink tulips blooming in the snow, and usually they only start to grow in the spring― Jungeun, I can feel you touching it.”

Jungeun stops her motions and pulls away looking bashful. “Sorry. Continue?”

Jiwoo clears and continues explaining that she had snapped a few candid shots before deciding to adjust the flowers towards the sunlight. She didn't realize there would be something sharp hidden under the shadow of its leaves. A sudden, harsh prick of a thorn had come to her surprise. It almost felt like the plant had leaned into her touch, seeking warmth as she reached down with a gentle brush. While her finger bled on the flower, the vibrant red dripped and disappeared into the white snow.

The sting persisted long afterwards.

“Tulips don’t have thorns. Oh! And the flower changed colors,” Jiwoo adds. “Hold on, I have the pictures here.”

Jiwoo pulls out her camera from her sticker-decorated case. Browsing through the archive, Jungeun admits that the flowers were simple yet eye-catching. After the first dozen or so photos, the same flowers with their characteristic white infused feather-like fringes were now twisted with a dark rich burgundy. Nearly black.

Incidentally, they’re also identical to the petals on Jungeun’s floor. It takes them both a moment to process.

Jungeun jumps to her feet, scrambling away from the petals. “Oh my god, you got bit by a radioactive flower. Please tell me this isn’t contagious.”

Jiwoo blanches, brushing the petals away into a neater pile. “No! At least. I don’t think so. There aren’t any thorns...”

Jungeun scrunches up her nose distrustfully. “Ugh. It’s not like I can do anything about it now. Whatever, okay, let’s look into this.”

Jiwoo’s shoulders slump noticeably. “Thank you.”

Research takes all of half an hour, sun starting to beam orange, piercing through the clouds and windows. Jiwoo keeps a paper bag filled with petals next to her. The duo sit side by side, hunched over Jungeun’s tiny laptop and squinting at the screen. Suddenly Jiwoo s out her finger at one of the images, squishing her cheek against Jungeun’s.

“That’s it! Those are the petals!”

Jungeun uses a free hand to shove Jiwoo’s face away. “The rare Hanahaki tulip symbolizes unrequited and unconfessed love,” she mutters with a frown.

“The legend begins with a girl who fell in love with another girl,” Jiwoo continues. “She knew she could not confess...illness...vomiting petals…” Her face grows pale.

The stems pierced through her skin, flowers and petals bloomed from her scars, moss filled in her loneliness, ferns flourished in her stomach.

Jungeun picks up where she left off. “Her feelings were never returned, and the girl was strangled of her last breath. The flower grew from her body, and with it, she became the flower, and that was for eternity.”

A stone dread sits in the pit of Jiwoo’s stomach.

Jungeun’s fingers drum against her laptop. “Yo Jiwooming,” she starts, unsure. “Did you just revive some kind of ancient lesbian curse?”

“Now isn’t the time!” Jiwoo yelps. “Are you telling me I’m dying of terminal heartbreak!?”

“When you find another petal-vomit disease, do tell.” Jungeun leans back onto her hands, knee bouncing as she watches Jiwoo thoughtfully. “I didn’t think your pining would literally be the thing to kill you.”

Jiwoo’s face flushes crimson. “Shut up.”

“Like I knew you had it bad, but I didn’t think―”

“Fight me. You can fight me, right now.” The dread in Jiwoo’s stomach loosens when Jungeun snorts out a laugh. It’s almost gone entirely when she shoves Jungeun over, both of them laughing and shrieking as Jiwoo unleashes a barrage of hits that Jungeun just barely blocks. “Meet me in the Denny’s parking lot, you jerk!”

Jungeun manages to grab one of Jiwoo’s arms and jab her in the ribs, eliciting a scream as Jiwoo jerks away. “Don’t worry about it too much. Doesn’t this mean you just have to get your crush to like you back?”

Jiwoo halts her retaliatory punch. “Do you mean...Sooyoung?” Jungeun looks like she wants to roll her eyes.

“Who else have you been crushing on for 3 years and running?”

“I didn’t think it was deep enough to die over.” Jiwoo sighs, fighting the tickle in the back of . “I haven’t been able to talk to her that often.”

“Remind me why you like her again?”

“Well. She’s funny.”

Jungeun nods in understanding. “So you have a thing for comedians. I’m not surprised.”

“Do you have a death wish today?” Jiwoo asks, fists raising.

“Not on my agenda, no. And I’m not the one with the disease.” Jungeun hands Jiwoo a water bottle to occupy her fighting hands. “But most people have some sort of checkbox. ‘Must be 164 cm tall, must listen to me cry about gay penguins for an hour.’ Don’t you have a thing for musicians?”

Jiwoo shrugs as she takes a gulp. The occasional interest here and there have been those more musically inclined, but they came and went within the span of a week. “I don’t need a bullet list of reasons to like someone. I feel it more than anything. That being said, I don’t really think I’m her type.”

Jungeun returns her shrug. “You never know unless you try. Attraction is pretty superficial from the outset. All you have to do is talk to her and get her to reciprocate your gross feelings.” She ignores how Jiwoo pulls a face, and adds, “Do it or die.”

Jiwoo elbows Jungeun in the sides. “That’s very motivational.”

“You’ll be okay. It’s impossible not to like you. Give it your best shot.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Jiwoo mutters through a pensive look. She misses Jungeun’s indulging smile.

“Alright. Let’s figure out how to induce her serotonin reflex on command.”

Sooyoung sits in a stowaway corner of the cafeteria, inside a smaller room branching away from the main dining location. She wears a loose-fitted black shirt and baggy pants, with a red hat and round specs to cap off the look. All in all, it looks like the older woman just rolled fresh out of bed.

A mild surge of anxiety swells in her lungs, prickles from her thumb. She clears and brushes her hair into cooperation.

Three years ago saw Jiwoo and Sooyoung as close friends in high school: Jiwoo as a rookie photographer with a school-granted camera, and Sooyoung as the studious, awkward nerd by day and dance extraordinaire by night.

Jiwoo was a member of the newspaper club, diligently taking photos of sports teams and other mundanities like skylines and plants when they struck her fancy. It was a curious way to connect with the various cliques of the school, wandering from greenhouse to soccer field. Until her feet took her to the dance club.

She left their meeting with a camera roll of pictures and a growing fascination. None of her photos came close to capturing the beauty of Sooyoung in motion. She was scrutinizing one of her shots just outside when Sooyoung tapped her on the shoulder, smiling slightly.

Fascination gave way to admiration, and admiration to love.

“Sooyoung-unnie!” Jiwoo yells when she’s closer. She has a delicate balancing act of stacked plates in one hand to wave wildly with the other. Sooyoung grins and waves in return.

She’s a beautiful, confident dork who Jiwoo has to romance to avoid death by horticulture. No big deal, right? It’s why they’re having lunch together.

“It’s been a while,” Jiwoo chirps. Her stack of plates hits the table. “How are you?”

Sooyoung nibbles on her food. “Decent. One of my professors has been out sick for the week, so all of my assignments were pushed back.”

“Be careful. The flu has been going around.”

“Oh, no, I saw my classmate sneeze into his hand twice before running up and shaking my professor’s at the end of class. It was sick.”

Jiwoo chews slowly, fascinated. “What is that called, biological warfare?”

“Sure. But he should have spiked the professor’s coffee like the rest of us were planning. The wife and kids are unnecessary casualties.”

Jiwoo can’t help but laugh at Sooyoung’s seriousness, given away only by the telltale quirk of her lips. It was this type of easy humor she didn’t realize she missed. She’s not as anxious anymore, but the persistent, hard thudding against her chest keeps her knee bouncing.

“Other than that, nothing as exciting,” Sooyoung muses through a mouthful of rice. “I’ve been stuck trying to choreograph something for a project, but even with the new free time I’m not getting anywhere.”

Sooyoung fiddles with the specialties lunch menu for the week on the table. Like all opportunistic mongrels, Jiwoo lays a hand on top of Sooyoung’s and peers over to glance at it while she talks. Seems she’s fond of the Vietnamese Thursday menu.

“Don’t beat yourself up for it. You’ll get it soon.”

Sooyoung tilts her head. “What makes you think I’m beating myself up for it?”

Jiwoo smiles wryly. “You used to get really frustrated at yourself in high school, remember? Right before your performances, too.”

Details are key to making someone feel important, says Jungeun. Sooyoung blinks, as if recalling a forgotten memory, before pulls into an awkward, endearing grin. She squeezes Jiwoo’s hand. “I like to think I’ve gotten better since then.”

“I should hope so,” Jiwoo says. “Your juniors looked terrified.”

Sooyoung rolls her eyes, untangling their hands to continue eating. Jiwoo feels a cough coming and makes a subtle lunge for her water, swallowing down the petals.

“Enough about me. How’ve you been? You don’t carry your camera around anymore?”

The reminder of the strange weightlessness around her neck stung. She stopped carrying her camera around ever since she contracted the disease. And it made her feel guilty. Jiwoo bites her lip, wonders how truthful she should be.

“I’ve been struggling with taking photos,” Jiwoo admits. “I don’t get the same urge anymore, and my photos always come out looking lifeless.”

Sooyoung furrows her brows. “That’s new.”

It takes a little effort to nod. The flowers were the first thing she’s wanted to capture well in a while, but they might end up killing her instead. “I think my photography professor is disappointed in me.”

Sooyoung frowns. “Don’t worry about it too much, Jiwoo. Burnout happens, we all need a break even if we love something. Passion comes back in unexpected ways. You’ll be okay.”

Jiwoo knows she probably looks love-struck, but its moments like these that made it impossible not to feel something for the older woman. “I― thanks, Sooyoung. I think I’ll be okay, too.”

“You know, Jiwoo,” Sooyoung says. There’s a new glint in her eyes. She leans in closer, mouth curling around a smirk. “If you need a muse you could always ask. I’ve been told I’m really photogenic.” Jiwoo flushes crimson, thumb itching like mad. Hazy, embarrassing memories rush back like a flood from high school, from when she told Sooyoung those exact words before her mind caught up with .

Jiwoo knows she should use the opportunity to flirt back, but her tongue clamps down, locks up. Anxiety rears its ugly head. The most she manages is high pitched nervous laughter as Sooyoung grins with her.

“I mean, of course, if you’re not tired of me.”

“I could never,” Jiwoo promises, heat still flushed in her cheeks.

“You’re sweet.” Sooyoung’s smile broadens. “But really. You’ll see something you like soon enough.” She spares a glance at her phone when a notification pops up and grimaces. “I don’t want to cut this short, but I gotta start heading to class. I didn’t realize how much time passed...”

Jiwoo shakes her head when Sooyoung tries to apologize. “No, it’s okay! I get it, I know this was last minute.”

“Do you want to do this again sometime?” Sooyoung asks, packing up her belongings.

Score!

“Yeah! Anytime you’re free. I don’t have anything Wednesdays and Fridays afternoon.”

“I’ll text you,” Sooyoung promises, tossing up her backpack over her shoulder. “Good luck with your photography. And please, re-dye your roots. The black is overtaking the brown with a vengeance.”

Jiwoo puffs out her cheeks. She’s been preoccupied trying not to die, there are exceptions to be made. “Bye Sooyoung, good luck with your choreo.”

Sooyoung tosses a wave over her shoulder. After she leaves Jiwoo collapses boneless over the table, both hands pressed over her heart. It takes five minutes for her to collect herself, and she’s leaving the cafeteria in another ten, texting furiously to Jungeun.

JIWOO-MING: i think im going to be talking to sooyoung a lot more now!!

JUNGEUN: congratulations, lets hope you dont screw this up

Jiwoo glowers at her phone screen. She’s about to type back a heated response when her reflection catches her eye. Checking to make sure no one’s around, she stops in her tracks to wink at herself, then lean in closer to see her roots.

“They aren’t that bad,” she mutters, running her hand through her hair. Then she feels something leafy. Jiwoo pauses. She rubs at the spot.

Leaning in further, her face nearly presses up against the glass, trying to see what the bump is. She parts her hair, and to her dawning horror, something begins sprouting, blooming into a flower on top of her head.

“...What the fu―“

“Do you think Sooyoung will still love me if I’m a plant?” Jiwoo asks, hunching over to give Jungeun better access. In the mirror, Jiwoo can see Jungeun shrug, waving around her larger-than-necessary scissors off to the side.

“I don’t know. Maybe she has an angiosperm kink?” Jungeun takes another snip off of her scalp-plant they’ve both started referring to as Hana.

Jiwoo leans back from the stool to headbutt against Jungeun’s body. “Don’t make weird botanical assumptions about Sooyoung in the bedroom.”

“It’d be good for you to find someone who accepts you for who you are.”

“My disease is a condition! Not who I am.” When Jiwoo’s fist meets the table, Hana jumps up like a physical exclamation point, reacting to her emotions.

“...Uh huh. Whatever you say.” Jungeun sweeps hair over Jiwoo’s shoulder. “Have you considered just going to the hospital for this? Maybe they could do something about the hanahaki.”

“What are they going to do, cut me open and spray me with a herbicide? News flash, Jungeun. I’ve already tried my own DIY weed killer remedies.”

Jungeun stops snipping. “Drinking it?”

“Well. No. I just kind of tried rubbing it into my thumb plant. It didn’t work.” Jiwoo puts her thumb and forefinger under her chin. “But now that you mention it, do you have any vinegar and dish soap?”

Jungeun continues snipping. “We can look for your neo-protein shake later. Stop moving, I’m trying for an avant garde hair style.”

It’s been two weeks since the lunch meet-up with Sooyoung, and since then Jungeun’s taken to t Hana like one would care for a bonsai tree. They’ve tried snipping the entire thing off when it was first discovered, but it grew back by the next morning, two buds instead of one, like a plant hydra.

Jiwoo has distant memories of Jungeun giving her a haircut, once, a wobbly 35 degree snip right across her forehead. Jungeun wore blonde hair extensions as a show of apologetic solidarity until Jiwoo’s bangs grew in properly. In the mirror Jungeun’s tongue peeks out behind her lips, concentrating hard on tending to the tulip. Jiwoo’s mouth twitches up both at Jungeun and the memory.

“Alright, I’m done.” Jungeun takes out the remaining pieces of greenery on top of Jiwoo’s head, combing her hair back into place. “Hopefully that won’t bother you for a couple of days.”

“This is not what I meant when I said I wanted to be a gardener.” Jiwoo inspects the flowering bud with a groan. “I don’t think I even want to grow flowers anymore.”

"You're your own plant now, Jiwoo," Jungeun says somberly, collapsing onto her bed. "You can go where no gardener has ever gone before."

“No gardener wants to become a plant, Jungeun-ah.”

Jungeun ignores her. “You’re practically growing yourself. It’s gardening but a thousand times less effort. Do you want me to buy you a pot?”

“Never talk to me again.” Jiwoo’s hand slaps Jungeun’s shoulder when Jungeun bursts into wild laughter at her own joke, shoving her over to join her on the bed. “What’re we doing today?”

Jungeun pushes herself up, reaching for the notebook and pen on her nightstand. She jabs Jiwoo with the pen. “Well. How are you doing with Sooyoung?”

Jiwoo hums, fiddling with the band-aid on her finger. “I’ve been texting her a lot more, like you told me to.”

Jungeun sits cross-legged on her bed, red notebook flipped open. Her pen clicks. “Yeah?”

Jiwoo nods, going into arbitrary details she’s heard recounted over text in Sooyoung’s day-to-day life. Jungeun nods along, scribbling notes into the notebook, underlining some things like dance recital dates and complaints about her roommate, and starring others, like Sooyoung’s lyric poem about how she was tired of the stupid freshman on campus. (“oh...but not you Jiwoo, you’re the only one I can stand”)

“I’ve been trying to give her sweets every time I see her, too. I think you were right about the misattribution of arousal theory. I gave her coffee a few times because I thought it’d be an even bigger rush whenever she saw me.”

Jungeun hums. Hana wriggles curiously. Jiwoo props her head on Jungeun’s shoulder, Jungeun’s writing hand twitching at the motion. “What is this?”

“I’ve cross-referenced everything she hates and loves about her roommate with traits that you share. So now you know not to start, uhm. ‘Dragging her for no inexplicable reason when she brings girls back to her dorm.’ And something about air fryers?”

Jiwoo purses her lips to keep from laughing at Jungeun’s serious expression. “Oh, that’s really helpful.”

“Shut up. There are other things, too. She likes it when people are upfront with her, and people who laugh at her jokes. She also tends to like brunettes, so that’s 30 points to Hufflepuff.”

Jiwoo gasps suddenly. “This is like playing a dating sim and moving the heart meter up. You’re my tutorial.”

Jungeun rolls her eyes. “Nerd. She likes clever jokes. She pays more attention to people who dress well. her ego, and make sure you’re never more than five minutes late to anything. She’s already making exceptions for you because she likes you. We just need you to move away from friendship flirting to flirting-flirting.”

Jiwoo opens to speak but coughs hard, moving away from Jungeun to spit bloodied petals into the trash bin beside them. Jungeun’s hand is already patting her back, the other grabbing a water bottle from the nightstand. Jiwoo grimaces at how exhausted she’s been recently, every time she goes into a coughing fit.

“You okay?” Jungeun says, eyes filled with worry.

“Yeah.”

Every time Jiwoo tries to hint at something romantic with Sooyoung, it feels like her body locks up, tongue-tied and flushing red. Even in high school it felt like Sooyoung was in another league. Jiwoo’s confidence soared since their first ever meeting, finding pride in her niche in singing and photography, but there’s a gap that can’t be bridged in between them. A lingering discomfort whenever she tries to flirt. She can’t place what it is.

Sooyoung is a wonderful friend. They click startlingly well. But as a romantic interest...

“I don’t want to change myself to get her to like me either. It’s not fair to either of us.”

Jungeun’s brows knit together, teeth finding her bottom lip. “I don’t disagree with you. But I don’t know any other option to keep you alive.”

Jiwoo hugs her knees to her chest, notes the vines squeezing around her heart. “I don’t like this.”

“I don’t either,” Jungeun says softly. “I know it’s hard.”

Jungeun brings one of her hands to hold Jiwoo’s. Jiwoo observes how warm it is. She’s noticed she’s been desensitized to cold, walking out in near freezing temperatures in a t-shirt and still unaffected. But the warmth seeps through, keeps her anchored. Jungeun hesitates to speak.

“...Do you wanna catch a movie? I think the Incredibles sequel is on Netflix now.”

“Please.”

Jungeun opens up her laptop, and they bundle down in her sheets, Jiwoo surrounded by cotton-candy comfort.

It helps to keep Jiwoo’s mind off of things. It helps a lot. They’ve already caught the movie in theatres, Jiwoo dragging her along to the first screening, but this time they talk throughout, tuning out the movie as background noise. They’re about a quarter of the way through when Jiwoo asks: “If you had a power, what would you have, Jungeun?”

“Stopping time, or rewinding it. It’d give me more time to catch up on sleep. Spend more time on other things. It’d be great.”

Jiwoo snickers. “You’re so old.”

Jungeun heaves a long-suffering sigh. “What power would you have? Actually, you’re already Poison Ivy’s cousin twice-removed.”

Jiwoo looks caught between insulted and impressed. “For someone who never leaves the house, you’re up to date on your pop culture references.”

“You spent 3 hours be how you should have got bit by a radioactive spider instead and jumped fandoms.”

“Speaking of which,” Jiwoo says suddenly, slamming on the spacebar to pause the Incredibles. “Did you hear about the university’s greenhouse?”

Jiwoo launches into an hour long tale about how someone accidentally introduced a diseased flower into the greenhouse and consequently wiped out half of that flower species so painstakingly grown by the university.

“How was that in any way relevant to Spider-Man?” Jungeun asks once she’s done.

Jiwoo grins, and Hana perks up. “It wasn’t. But now we have a back-up plan B in case Sooyoung doesn’t work out.”

Jungeun’s eyes are drawn up. “Drop you in the greenhouse and wait for someone to release a tulip disease strain?”

“Exactly!”

“What happened to your vinegar and dish soap?”

“Plan C. I don’t like the taste of vinegar.”

“I’ll plant you into the soil myself, Jiwoo,” Jungeun says. “I’ll come by and hand-feed you the dirt.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

Jiwoo only keeps her serious expression for a grand total of two seconds before they both crack up, Jungeun collapsing into her shoulder. She’s always more cuddly in the colder months.

Even though they attend the same university, they haven’t been able to catch up with each other frequently until her hanahaki cropped up, so at least one good thing came from having the disease.

Jungeun’s gotten better at sensing when Jiwoo’s mood dips, when she feels the flowers and dread creeping up , when the vines wrap around her heart and use her ribs as a trellis. Jungeun’s always there to distract her, and it always works.

Jiwoo breathes easier when she’s around.

She’s about to tell Jungeun such, when her phone vibrates, lost somewhere in the mass of sheets and pillows. Jiwoo’s fully intent on ignoring it, but Jungeun locates the device when it vibrates another two times.

“It’s Sooyoung,” Jiwoo says, blinking in surprise. “She wants to hang out for a study date.”

“That’s a good opportunity,” Jungeun says. Jiwoo nods along, but she hesitates to type out a confirmation. “What’s wrong, Jiwoo?”

“Ah, nothing. Her week is just packed. The only time she’s free was when we were supposed to grab lunch.”

All Jiwoo receives is a half-hearted shrug. “It’s okay. We can eat some other time.”

Hana starts hunching over slightly. “I was looking forward to it,” she whines, in an attempt to ward off the mild discomfort she feels at the dismissal.

Jungeun snorts, flicking her finger against Hana’s stem. “Trying to save your life here. Go hangout with Sooyoung, the cafe will still be there next week. I’ll check it out on my own first.”

The sting is a little more apparent. Jungeun was the one who recommended the cafe in the first place when she heard it opened. Jiwoo was excited to go with her.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jiwoo says weakly. “I’ll tell you how it goes.”

Jungeun nudges into her with her shoulder, smile strange in a way Jiwoo can’t place. “Get the girl.”

They resume the movie. Jungeun doesn’t lean against her again and Jiwoo finds herself missing the warmth.

“Hi,” Sooyoung whispers. She pulls out the chair across from Jiwoo, wincing when the chair squeaks loudly against the tiles of the library. Jiwoo grins and waves, nearly vibrating at the sight of Sooyoung. “Nice to see you again. You look cute today.”

Jiwoo beams underneath the praise; she ditched her usual hoodie for one of Jungeun’s when the other woman gave her a disapproving emoji at her outfit choice and switched out a couple of items, but keeping Jiwoo’s overall aesthetic.

“Thank you,” Jiwoo whispers, adjusting the bangs underneath her red beanie. She’s become well-acquainted with all sorts of hats, stealing some from Jungeun’s closet to hide Hana away from the judgemental eyes of the public.

Sooyoung, in contrast, wears a bright pink shirt with light blue pants, a little more put-together as opposed to their first run in a couple of weeks back. Jiwoo looks enviously at the short sleeve length, scratching at the new leaf sprouting on her arm. She’s gotten more sensitive to the heat.

“Hold on, I have this thing due in an hour. I’ll talk to you later,” Sooyoung mutters, flipping open her laptop and calculator, getting started on whatever her assignment was immediately.

Jiwoo watches her for a moment, squinting at her screen and mumbling curses under her breath; she’s not as nervous anymore. Jiwoo sprouts a wry grin, endeared, before she returns to her own coursework.

She doesn’t remember when she tapped out for the hour. She’s re-reading the same paragraph over and over again until Sooyoung releases a sigh, sprawling out on the table.

Jiwoo tries not to laugh. “Are you okay?”

“I really don’t like math,” Sooyoung sighs. Propping herself up onto her elbow looks like it takes more energy than she actually has. “I stayed up all night polishing a choreography, too…”

The bags under her eyes could be used to pack a suitcase. Sooyoung looks tired, but pretty and pleased nonetheless.

Jiwoo’s pencil taps against her notebook. “Is this the same choreo from last time?”

Sooyoung winks. “I figured some things out in the end.”

Jiwoo gives her silent applause, Sooyoung bending her head down in a bow. “That’s amazing. I’m glad you’re out of the slump.”

“I’m pretty great,” she agrees, gleaming underneath the praise. “And what about you? Have you started taking pictures again?”

Jiwoo thinks back to her camera roll of selfies, documenting Hana’s growth, and wiggles her hand noncommittally. “I’ve been taking better shots, but nothing really catches my eye anymore. And I’m too ...busy, to go out and look for inspiration outside.”

Being preoccupied with not dying is an entire adventure on its own, if Jiwoo was honest.

“I’m on the verge of ripping my hair out when I’m stuck for longer than a week. I’m sorry, Jiwoo.”

“It’s okay for now,” Jiwoo assures her. “I’ve been filling up my time with vocal classes, singing, and hanging out with a friend. They’re good distractions.”

Hana wriggles happily underneath her beanie, thankfully going unnoticed. Sooyoung tilts her head in a way Jiwoo can’t decipher. “Yeah?”

“Yeah! We nearly burnt down her kitchen making brownies the other day. Actually, I have them here, if you’d like to taste our organic attempt at rat poison.”

“I’m good, thanks.” The new glint of intrigue in Sooyoung’s eyes makes Jiwoo’s nerves spark. She leans slightly over the table. “Sorry, I never caught who this was…” Sooyoung suddenly trails off, freezing entirely when she spots something over Jiwoo’s shoulder.

Jiwoo follows Sooyoung’s gaze to a familiar woman in flannel.

Jiwoo immediately straightens up and waves in big gestures until she catches the woman’s attention, the grin on her face wide enough to hurt when the woman notices them.

“Haseul-unnie!” Jiwoo shouts, ignoring the dirty looks from people around them. She sees the exact moment Haseul’s eyes flicker over to Sooyoung, startled, but happy surprise apparent. Sooyoung elegantly straightens up, waving lightly at Haseul.

Jiwoo notices the exact moment Sooyoung freezes when Haseul starts approaching them.

“Should I have not done that?” Jiwoo whispers.

Sooyoung doesn’t respond, running a hand through her hair and clearing . Jiwoo’s almost impressed by how collected she looks when Haseul arrives, but there’s a spark of nervous energy that keeps her spine rigid and her hands fiddling with her calculator.

“Jiwoo, Sooyoung,” Haseul greets with a smile. “It’s nice seeing you both.”

“Hi, Haseul,” Sooyoung’s tongue seems to physically curl around Haseul’s name, voice low in a way that could almost be blamed on their environment. Jiwoo’s brows shoot up to her hairline. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

“She’s my junior in the music department,” Haseul explains, nonplussed. “Where do you two know each other from?”

“We went to the same high school.” Jiwoo smiles brightly. “What’re you doing here? I haven’t seen you in sooo long.”

“Checking out a couple of books for a research project.” Haseul adjusts the straps of her backpack, sighing slightly. “I… hate essays.”

“We’re just studying together, if you want to join us,” Jiwoo says. “Being in the library with a friend helps me focus.”

Haseul’s hand comes up to rub the back of her neck, the motion slow and sluggish. “Sorry, I’d love to, but I was actually going to head back home to sleep. Four all nighters in a row does not a good GPA make. I need a break and a back rub.”

Jiwoo half-expects Sooyoung to snap up the comment like a vulture, slant a smile and make a comment that would get her smited before she set foot inside a Church. Instead she frowns, expression turning pinched in worry.

“Jesus, Haseul. Take care of yourself. Do you need any help with the essay?”

Haseul grins lazily. “I’m okay. My blood is straight caffeine, but I just need to crash for the weekend. Thank you though.”

“Drink water and remember to eat. I’m serious.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll do better.”

Sooyoung looks like she wants to push but decides against it. Haseul, in a brief moment of cognizance, stares intently at her. The tension between the two of them could be felt like gravity. Jiwoo holds her breath and tries not to get in.

“Haseul―”

“Sooyoung―”

They both cut short. Haseul motions for her to continue.

“...Grab something to eat with me sometime,” Sooyoung says. “We should catch up more often. I miss...I miss you, and I miss hanging out together.”

Jiwoo feels a pinprick of something, like a paper cut, when she notices Sooyoung’s red ears, but she’s preoccupied watching Haseul’s face slowly split into an infectious, brilliant smile.

“I miss you, too, Sooyoungie. Text me and we can plan something out.”

Sooyoung grins at her. “Good. Great! I’ll throw in a back rub if you treat me.”

Haseul rolls her eyes. “Don’t push your luck. I’ll see you guys around.”

Jiwoo and Sooyoung send her off with a wave. As soon as Haseul is out of sight Jiwoo swings her head back to look at Sooyoung, switching from smiling at Haseul’s retreating figure to grinning at her laptop screen. She notices Jiwoo watching her, smile sitting smug, and fails to school her expression to something more neutral.

“So seeing Haseul was nice,” Jiwoo says. Sooyoung groans.

“Don’t even start.”

Jiwoo chuckles. Something about her feels surprisingly numb, sedated to the whole event. “Humor me, we’ve been studying for ages. I didn’t know you two had history.”

“Ugh. Some other time, it’s kind of messy,” Sooyoung says with a sigh. “We just haven’t had the chance to talk in a while. I was worried about her.”

There’s nothing clawing up .The flowers inside her body don’t feel any more or any less uncomfortable, no coughing fit erupts when Sooyoung’s eyes soften like butter in a microwave.

“I’m holding you to that,” Jiwoo warns, inwardly trying to collect her thoughts. She’s not hurt. Not really. There’s a noticeable sting, but underneath that is a quiet, unmistakable relief.

...She needs to talk to Jungeun.

“Hey, Sooyoung.”

“Hm?”

“I just realized I had something to do with the― the friend.”

“...Yeah?”

“I promised her I would help her feed her neighborhood strays. She has a fondness for cats,” Jiwoo lies. A true story from their high school days, but Jiwoo was the one doing the roping and Jungeun was the one helping her bandage up her cat scars.

The curious glint in Sooyoung’s eyes return. “I see. Well, don’t let me keep you waiting.”

Jiwoo bobs her head in distracted agreement, collecting her belongings, waving wildly at Sooyoung as she leaves, before she retreats from the library and heads out behind their building. She in a deep breath, and calls Jungeun.

Her phone rings once…twice…

“Hello?” Jungeun’s voice calls.

“Do you know where the university greenhouse is?” Jiwoo asks. The vines coil tighter around her ribs. “Good. Great! Can you pick up a shovel? I think we need to go to plan B.”

 

bettaowl: K_Morpho dubbed the AU Hanahakmin b/c Chuu is legit a pikmin, lol. The final part should be out in the next couple of weeks. Please let us know what you think!