4/25/2024
@yinyueisms
it starts as a subtle itch lingering deep in his throat—one that caelus can’t get rid of, no matter how much he tries.
the bottles of cough syrup and lozenges he’s swiped from the infirmary at herta space station have, unfortunately, done little for him.
only the herbal teas caelus begs for dan heng to brew for him seem to help his condition.
a cup a day always manages to soothes his irritated throat a little—of course, the pain quickly returns once he finishes the tea and exits the archives, but the brief relief keeps him sane.
he has, on more than a few occasions, considered asking dan heng to see if the man might have an idea about what’s causing the irritation in his throat.
out of everyone on the express, it would make the most sense for their ever reliable archivist and train guard to know, right?
still, caelus always holds his tongue after one look at dan heng’s tired face.
even now, it’s clear he’s still haunted by the shadows of the past that have finally caught up to him in luofu. caelus doesn’t want to add to that stress by giving him another thing to worry about.
so, he keeps his search for answers online, even if it only tells him that he either has a cold or he’s actively dying.
ultimately, in the end, caelus decides to just brush it aside for now; it’s not like anything could be worse for him than the stellaron in his body anyway.
whatever he might’ve caught, it probably can’t be that bad, right?
excluding the sensation that there’s something lodged deep in his throat, caelus is the picture of perfect health. his appetite is fine, and he doesn’t appear to be suffering an abnormal sense of fatigue either.
while it’s true that caelus has started getting more tired recently, it’s also true that penacony has been an incredibly stressful experience.
after everything that’s happened, him needing more rest than usual isn’t surprising. he’s probably still fine.
nothing is wrong.
that thought can only last for so long though.
one night, caelus has to excuse himself from the table during dinner. march glances at him as he stands, concerned.
“my stomach hurts,” he explains. “i think it was the oak rolls—might’ve had too many wood chips in mine today.”
the excuse does its job. rolling her eyes, march just sighs and mumbles something rude about his poor eating habits before returning to her meal.
on the other hand, the frown on dan heng’s face deepens. “are you sure that you’re alright? you’re beginning to look pale, caelus.”
“that’s probably because i shouldn’t have eaten a whole cake by myself.” caelus laughs sheepishly. “i’m okay. just feeling a little sick.”
dan heng opens his mouth, his intent to press further obvious. but, he relents once he notices caelus subtly stealing glances at the door.
dan heng is nice like that, see.
that quiet consideration and gentleness of his is what caelus adores about him. even though he sometimes sneaks confused looks at caelus when they have their daily tea sessions, dan heng has never asked about it.
he is, after all, much too kind.
this time too, dan heng reluctantly swallows down his words and allows caelus to make his escape from the dining car in relative peace.
it’s just in time too, since it looks like he’s reached his limit. his brisk walk back to the main carriage quickly become a full-blown sprint.
caelus only makes it to the parlor before he can no longer resist the overwhelming urge to cough.
something in his chest spasms, launching him into a violent fit that refuses to stop. by the time he reaches his room, his face is wet with tears and he can barely breathe at all.
his vision darkens. caelus stumbles inside as the door opens, hitting the floor hard. his tongue tastes blood—the saliva dripping from his open mouth turning pink.
he gags. he retches. he heaves.
clutching at his throat as his body convulses, he prays for the pain to just end.
after what feels like an eternity of suffering, it eventually does.
with one last rattling cough, the thing clogging his throat for weeks finally dislodges itself from his airway and lands by his feet.
distracted desperately gasping for air, caelus doesn’t notice it at first.
he doesn’t see it at all until he accidentally kicks it while trying to sit up.
the sound of a dull, muffled thud catches his attention. exhausted beyond belief, he glances over and watches as a beautiful lotus flower goes flying across the room before slamming into his dresser.
his stellaron heart stops.
pure white petals—blemished by strings of pink spit and stained with dark smudges of blood—crumple on impact. for a long, long moment, all caelus can do is simply stare.
the realization finally hits and a terrible picture begins to form in his head.
slowly, his brain begins cataloguing all of his symptoms so far—including all the quiet, subtle ones he has refused to acknowledge until now.
even caelus, struggling under the weight of missing memories, understands what this means without needing a refresher from the archives.
of course it would be hanahaki.
what else could it be? what else could take root so deep within a stellaron’s vessel besides its own feelings?
hanahaki is debilitating: potentially terminal depending on the severity, and terribly, terribly embarrassing should anyone find out.
caelus gives up on trying to stand up and buries his face in his hands, letting out a mournful cry that agitates his torn throat.
even if he might’ve already been aware that his feelings for dan heng weren’t fully platonic, it’s awful to have to them out on display like this.
that tiny crush caelus has been nursing since the day he woke up to jade eyes staring down at him has morphed into something ugly.
bloody, violent—even if this love is unrequited, it is devoted and devout enough to ruin his body with a claim neither of them have consented to.
and, of all possible choices, his heart just had to choose lotuses.
after one single look at them, there is no doubt as to whom these flowers bloom for. even march, of all people, could figure it out if she turns her head slightly and glances down at dan heng’s silken sleeves.
there is no way out of this. no excuse he gives could cover this up.
for once, the galactic batter has been met with complete and utter defeat. game, set, and match without any opportunity for him to counterattack or a way to overturn the verdict.
it is, without a doubt, over.
despite his wishes in the matter, caelus has become yet another burden to dan heng.
somehow, before he even realized it, he’s become yet another person imposing their feelings and selfish expectations on the man. his feelings have turned into a shackle in the worst way possible.
once again, caelus’s body begins to writhe on the floor. any trace of dignity in him is gone without a trace. there is no hero of belobog or savior of luofu here right now.
inside this room is only caelus: an amnesiac boy in love with his best friend, for better and for worse.