Chapter Text
That stranger felt familiar.
Kim Dokja sits in his usual spot on the train, the one near the doors, next to the priority seats. He's scrolling on his phone, reading the latest update of his current read, when the train stops at the next station.
He pulls his legs closer to his seat as people pass him to get off the train. Soon, the train became relatively more spacious, even after new passengers got in. Dokja silently wished that no more passengers would get to the next station so he wouldn't have to deal with people stepping on his shoes.
The train starts traveling again, and maybe today's chapter is a little too short, or Dokja reads a little too fast because it didn't take long for him to reach the end of the page. Sighing, he clicks back to his library and is about to click on another updated novel when he feels eyes on him.
…Dokja dislikes being watched.
He looks up, trying not to show his panic, and searches for the person watching him. There is no one, and the feeling is gone. Still, he can't shake off his anxiety. He looks down at his phone again, the feeling comes back. Quickly, he snaps his head up, barely catching the movement of one passenger standing a few seats to his left.
He's tall, clad in dark clothes and a coat. He's holding a lunch box. Dokja notices a chain dangling from his inner coat pocket. But what catches Dokja's attention is his face.
Sharp features, dark eyes. A frown on his face as he stared out the window.
The stranger looked–no, rather, this man felt familiar.
Abruptly, he stands up, just as the train halts and a new wave of passengers enter. More people enter, only a few leave. Dokja allows himself to be nudged closer to the stranger, who he knows is watching his movements from the corner of his eyes.
The train moves, Dokja stops. He's standing a step away from the tall man.
Familiar.
He looks at his face, then at the chain peeking out of his coat.
A pocket watch.
You. I know you.
"Hey! You're staring!" His classmate, Han Sooyoung, whispered to him.
"Ah, yeah, sorry."
"Why are you apologizing to me? Dumbass."
He chooses not to answer and shifts his gaze from Yoo Joonghyuk, another friend of his. They sit in their classroom, waiting for their next teacher. In front of him is Joonghyuk, head turned down as he scrambles to copy answers from Dokja's notebook. Dokja lost a bet, now he's in charge of their assignments.
Said man looks back after noticing their banter, already used to their antics. He gives Dokja a questioning look which the latter answers with a shrug and a cheeky smile. The taller man just frowns at him.
"Joonghyuk-ah, I can see your wrinkles already. Stop frowning," he scolds, a lace of affection in his voice which, as expected, only Sooyoung caught. She kicked his shin from where she sat beside him, a silent reprimand.
"I don't care," is what Joonghyuk replied, yet he stopped frowning immediately. He resumes copying while Dokja resumes staring.
He actually forgot when he started to like staring at his supposed best friend. One day, he just started being amazed at every little thing the other does and it drove him insane. It's not that deep though, Dokja thought his little crush was not worth risking their friendship.
Beside him, Han Sooyoung was regretting her life decisions.
Their little trio lasted until college somehow, even when they went to different schools. Dokja's little crush, however, was not as fleeting as he thought it'd be. Rather, he reckoned it grew deeper than a mere crush when he started realizing the need to monopolize Joonghyuk's affection when he started thinking of a future with him and him alone.
Can one blame him though? He might be biased, but Dokja thinks Joonghyuk acts differently whenever they're alone. And even during their occasional rendezvous, Joonghyuk always managed to make Dokja feel how special he was to him, putting his comfort above anything else.
Meanwhile, left with thoughts to ponder and actions to interpret, Dokja listened on the phone, as Sooyoung ranted about her roommate who was 'too kind' for her liking.
"I swear one of these days she's gonna go missing and I'm gonna be the prime suspect. I mean, do you realize how often she goes out? Too often."
"Mhm," he replies. Sooyoung continues rambling as he sits on the couch and picks up the remote.
"And then yesterday she–"
"Dokja, I'm heading out. There's food in the fridge, heat it up," Joonghyuk says from where he stands by the door, putting on shoes.
"Yeah yeah. Just go, you mother hen." He hears Sooyoung cackle on the phone before it's snatched from his grasp. He cranes his neck to look up at Joonghyuk behind him, holding his phone hostage as he glares at the smaller man.
"Heat it up. I swear if you order takeouts again I'm throwing you out."
Dokja rolls his eyes before kneeling on the couch, gaining enough height to snatch the phone from Joonghyuk's grasp, "I will, I will. Just go now, you'll be late for class."
Joonghyuk glances at his watch before finally leaving, but not before another reminder for Dokja to eat on time.
He sits down once he hears the door lock, putting the phone close to his ear again.
"You guys act like you're married."
"Do we?" I wish.
"Yeah, I thought you moved out last month?"
"Oh, that? I was kidding. He removed the bookmark from my book so I sulked a little, but then I realized it's cheaper to split rent."
"...And you're telling me you're not dating?"
"Nope."
"Ugh, just confess already."
"Haha no."
"You–" He knows Sooyoung is about to scold him again, but he fails to pay attention because his throat suddenly feels very, very itchy. He tries clearing his throat, but it somehow makes it worse.
"Ya Kim Dokja, are you sick again?"
"No I'm fine, it's just–" He cut himself off when a wave of coughs escaped him, his throat tightening. The coughs became uncontrollable, he felt the need to vomit. He runs to the bathroom, still clutching his phone.
"Just what? Dokja. Ya, Kim Dokja!" Sooyoung's questions are left unanswered as he coughs harder and leans over the toilet. Nothing came out. This lasts for a few moments, his coughs getting progressively harsher before he feels something at the back of his throat. He covers his mouth, now sure that it is not vomit that will come out, before coughing much harder.
Finally, it dies down. His throat was still burning like hell, but the coughing fit stopped.
Dokja almost missed it as he rushed to wash his hands. If not for the bright colors, he would not have noticed the yellow petals on his palms. Ones that were stained with red in the middle, in addition to smudges of crimson around their wave-like ends.
Ambrosia.
Kim Dokja starts shaking. He is already aware of the disease that was rare, yet not unheard of. It dawns on him that what he used to read in news articles is now happening to him.
Fucking love.
His gaze spins in panic as he tries to collect his shaking self. He glimpsed at his reflection in the mirror. Pale and shaking, with hints of crimson on the corner of his mouth.
Thankfully, he catches a glance at his phone on the floor before he completely breaks down. Sooyoung's caller ID was visible on the screen. With shaking hands, he crouches and picks it up, putting her on speaker.
"--ja! Kim Dokja! What the fuck you bastard! Answer me m–"
"Sooyoung-ah."
The woman stops after hearing his voice, probably about to snap before she hears his weak, hoarse response.
"Bastard! Are you okay?! You know what– I'm calling him."
"Don't! Please don't," he sobs before choking on his breath, panic swallowing him whole, "Just, come here, please. Don't tell him."
"...on my way."
"How are you?"
"Fine." Help me.
No, he's not. Dokja is sure Sooyoung could see through his lies. How can she not?
Dokja became so pale from the lack of sunlight. The last time he went out was when he moved out of his and Joonghyuk's shared apartment. After that, he practically became bedridden. Not even lasting a few steps before his throat burned and his legs gave up. He eventually learned not to force himself, saving up energy for when he needed to run to the bathroom. Sometimes, he gets too weak and the bed ends up being covered in petals and blood.
"Just confess! Damn it you are a fool," Sooyoung scolds while handing him a towel to wipe blood from his mouth. Her other hand holds a bag full of ambrosia petals.
He understands why she's so upset. After all, his life is literally at stake. And Sooyoung is practically watching him wither away. However, no matter how much she urges him, Dokja already knows it is pointless.
He wished he didn't.
"I already did, Sooyoung. I'm not that dumb to give up my life for fear of rejection."
"You— you did?"
"Yeah," he swallows, recalling the events of when he told his best friend of his feelings.
It happened before Dokja moved out. He asked Joonghyuk to talk after dinner, telling him what he wanted him to know. He was very straightforward, telling Joonghyuk he likes, probably loves, him. Dokja didn't tell him about his condition though. At the very least, he wouldn't want Joonghyuk to lie to himself. If they ever pursue a relationship, he doesn't want it to be a lie.
Joonghyuk's answer was also brief. Simple and precise.
"...What did he say?"
"That he doesn't love me back. It's– I–" his next words got stuck in his throat, probably with the petals that carried his feelings. However, Sooyoung's unwavering gaze somehow comforted him, "Joonghyuk doesn't love me the same way I love him."
Sensing the gravity of the situation, Sooyoung keeps quiet. Hanahaki is not curable by merely confessing after all. The petals are defined as physical manifestations of desire and reality. A product of a need, an inner desire.
And Kim Dokja's desire is to be loved. His hanahaki can only be cured when his heart is settled.
"You know, there is one other option."
"No."
"Kim Dokja–"
"I'm scared."
Dokja knows what Sooyoung is talking about. Hanahaki is a disease that only subsides when the heart is settled. Surgery would only remove the petals on his lungs, but not his feelings. People have tried, but the disease only comes back since the feelings were never removed. The petals are a result of feelings, not the other way around.
Their solution? Forget. Memory manipulation. Replacement and removal. More psychology and science.
Brilliant and ridiculous. But it was guaranteed. No memories, no feelings.
Kim Dokja is scared to forget.
"HAN SOOYOUNG!"
"WHAT?!" She replies with equal frustration, standing up from her seat beside his bed as the third person in the room stands quietly. Like they're used to this type of scene.
"You– I told you I'm not–"
"Then what am I supposed to do?! Sit here and watch you die?!"
Dokja could not respond to her. Truth be told, he's scared to die too. He wants to live. But the thought of forgetting… him, scares him a little more.
Yoo Joonghyuk is someone he loves, someone who made him feel love, even if it's just his own misunderstanding. Joonghyuk is someone he can't afford to forget. But thinking again, would he really rather die for someone that doesn't love him? Someone who doesn't carry the same weight of love he feels?
Yes. He doesn't know.
He looks at Sooyoung. This was the first time he saw her looking so frazzled. As if she's bottling up too much at once.
Sooyoung… had always been with him too. From when he realized his feelings, until now he's suffering because of it. She… made him think twice, if dying was really worth it.
Why is she working so hard for me? Deep inside, Dokja knows the answer.
Because Sooyoung knows he doesn't want to die.
He pursed his lips in contemplation. He doesn't want to forget Joonghyuk, but he doesn't want to disappoint Sooyoung either.
He doesn't want to disappoint himself.
Decisions.
If only they had time…
The train moves, Dokja stops. The stranger turns his head to meet his eyes.
Eyes of stars, meet ones of abyss.
Yes. I know you.
From where? From when?
Tall stranger, I knew you.
I loved you.