Sometimes an older person would get sick and die from hanahaki, instead of dying from heart disease or all the other things old people normally died from. That happened when the worms grew too long, impeding breathing, or when they managed to pierce the lining of the lungs and cause bleeding. Hanahaki type B was a way that old people sometimes perished.

Young people only rarely had their life threatened by it. Rarely, a mentally disabled person would get hanahaki for long enough that they got majorly sicks. The mentally-disabled struggled to communicate their health issues and to sort through their emotions.

Finally, some people had weakened immune systems from genetic disorders or nutritional deficiences. Without a strong immune system, hanahaki could run rampant.

I wondered if an immune system issue was what was wrong with me. I couldn’t help but think of it in those terms: something was wrong with me. I’d spent my entire life making myself a better person, through socialization, volunteering, working, and striving. The thought that I had a deficiency that I could do nothing about was terrifying, especially if it was in my very important immune system.

The internet did not help me much in figuring out the specifics. My immune system had under reacted, or perhaps over reacted, or perhaps accidentally targeted my lungs itself. By the time I was reading about rare complications that almost no-one ever got, I realized I’d gone too far.

There were a lot of unknowns regarding Hanahaki despite the fact that it had existed forever. Although hanahaki was common, complications were not, and thus it wasn’t prioritized for research. It would be like researching people who almost died from food poisoning. Hanahaki was unique among respiratory illnesses. It was the only one that wasn't taken seriously.

I read about a plague cause by human influenza, which had swept through the population in the middle ages, killing ten percent. I tried to ignore the tickling sensation in my lungs.

I coughed up small petals and withered sticks for days. It was strange to me, that we took things like hanahaki for granted, but only now that I’d stopped to think about it. The petals and debris disappeared. The disquiet remained.

—

“Good news,” I told Anna and Gavin online. We were playing BloomCraft again. “I’ve met my deductible.”

“I thought you had good insurance,” said Anna.

“Me too, but I’ve never actually used it.” I’d signed up for the cheapest one to save money. According to my math, even accounting for the extra large deductible, my years of good health had made the cheaper plan net profitable.

“Dude, asking out that gym chick was a bad move,” said Gavin.

“You’re telling me. I haven’t seen her in weeks.”

“What are you guys talking about?” asked Anna.

“Oh,” said Gavin, “Casanova here asked out his running partner to try and cure his hanahaki, and it didn’t work.”

“Did you have a crush on her?” asked Anna in an incredulous tone.

“No, apparently not,” I said.

“How could you not know? And, hold on a minute, does this mean you just asked her out as a means to an end?”

“Well, people seem to think I’ve got to have a crush on someone, so I figured it might be her.” I redirected some of my units in BloomCraft. “As for the second question, it’s about synergy. Yes, I’d be cured, but I might also find romance, so why wouldn’t I ask her out?”

“Because you don’t care about her?” asked Anna.

“Asking people out is always a means to an end," added Gavin.

“You never ask anyone out!” said Anna, ignoring him.

“I was working under the assumption that I might not know if I did care about her,” I said. “My feelings about Diana are complicated. Were complicated, I guess.”

“You were hot for her, then,” said Gavin. It was true, but my attraction to Diana had evaporated the moment she’d rejected me. That part of the doctor’s advice had been genuine. That it worked should have been predictable; if pining after people got you killed, then there’d be strong evolutionary selection against getting hung up on someone.

“If I was attracted to her, I’m completely cured of that," I said. Freaking Gavin was attacking me as we talked–maybe the conversation was just an attempt to distract me. “You’re a jerk.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and I was startled by the genuine contriteness in his voice. The attack stopped; he started letting me slaughter his units. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to ask her out.”

“Wait, when did you do that ?” I asked.

“Almost as soon as you started running with her.”

“Whatever, man, it’s not your fault. I asked her because my doctor told me to.”

“He did?” asked Gavin. “Is he even a good doctor?”

“He’s the one I have. So it’s not your fault, really.”

“Thank you,” he said. The genuine relief I felt was also a surprise. Gavin and I had been friends forever; sometimes, I took it for granted I could tell what he was thinking. That was a trap that you could fall into when only meeting online. Miscommunications happened. Hearing voices was better than text only; but seeing in person was better by far.

And of course, people grow and change. That Gavin cared whether he’d led me astray was a new development, one that I appreciated.

“What are you going to do now?” asked Anna. Her units were moving in to defend my own. Gavin had begun a retreat.

“I’m still sick with hanahaki, obviously. It’s stress related. The doctor says I’ve got to take it easy, so I’m going to reduce my hours at work and I’m going to spend more time having fun.”

“More videogames?” she asked. I had been playing a lot already, or at least, a lot more than before.

“I suppose so. I’m also going to return to the soup kitchen, since I enjoy it so much. And tutor on the weekends.” If they thought this was too much to undertake, they didn’t say anything about it.

“It’s been a while since you did that,” said Gavin.

“Well, the new college semester is starting, and tutoring is another thing I enjoy… so.” Both of those things were true, even if they weren’t my primary reason.

I decided to not mention Bella. It wasn’t that I feared Gavin would get the wrong idea; I just didn’t want Gavin to have to refrain from pushing me toward Bella. If I decided to ask her out, after all, I didn’t want him to think it was somehow also his fault.

Also, I had to figure out how I felt about her myself. She’d been coolly helping me pursue the others. No hint of jealousy–no hint of feelings for me, unless you counted getting embarrassed at some of the things I said, which I thought was pretty reasonable. It happened to me too, after all.

I could probably cross Bella off the list. If she were interested in me, she’d do the obvious thing and suggest I date her. If she weren’t interested, me asking her would cause my relationship with the Brookes to implode, so I’d better not.

Either way, I might as well help her with tutoring.

—

I went to the soup kitchen the next day, a Tuesday, and everyone seemed pretty happy to see me. Boris shook my hand and patted me on the back; Joshua gave me a warm, bearded smile; and Emma surprised me by pulling me into a hug.

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“You’re back!” said Emma. “I’m so relieved.”

“...relieved?”

“Yeah! I heard from Boris that you went to the hospital.” She stepped back. “He said it was hanahaki?”

“Stress related,” I said, an attempt to head off the obvious questions. “But yeah. I’m doing better now.”

“Good,” she said. She inhaled. “And I need to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For… telling you to suck it up, lest you end up in the hospital.” I laughed as she wrung her hands.

“No need,” I said. “I mean, you were right, in a way.”

“I wasn’t very nice about it, and I kept thinking that I didn’t really think you’d end up there, but then you did… and I’d said such mean things…”

“Wait a moment, has that been burning you up for the last…” I thought back. It had been six weeks. “Month or so?”

“Yeah.”

“You should have just texted me! I wasn’t offended at all, I promise.”

“I don’t have your number,” said Emma, looking away. “Not a very good excuse, I guess.”

“You could have asked Boris. Here,” I said, pulling open my phone. “Give me yours, then this won’t happen in the future.”

Emma said some digits and I typed them in. I didn’t miss that her face was a bit red. Probably embarrassed to have made such a big deal out of it without thinking of the obvious solution, I thought, as I texted her a smiley face.

“Got it,” she said. “Thanks. You’d better not get hospitalized again, though.”

“Or what, you’ll put me in the hospital?” She laughed.

We fell into the swing of things at the soup kitchen. As I worked I felt some of the tension leave me. I was scooping mac and cheese, a task that would tire your arm out if you weren’t careful. It made a sucking sound whenever I pulled out a scoop–I was purposefully not being careful, to make it a workout. It made a satisfying whap when I plopped it onto plates. Might as well get meager exercise, and I could switch between arms when needed.

I was feeling pretty strong and effective. A lot of the regulars also recognized me, as they went by, and the fact that every one of them was happy to see me buoyed my spirits.

After everyone had been served I went to eat my portion. I saw Jason sit down at another table. It would appear that Emma had apologized to him as well, for that fight that was so long ago. Emma sat with me and I explained some of the differences between normal hanahaki and the stress-induced version. She lamented with me that I couldn’t just cure it by asking someone out (although I definitely didn’t mention Diana). Boris, the soup kitchen leader, came to sit with us as well.

“So I’m supposed to relax more. I’m going to take some time off work.” I’d scheduled every Friday off, in fact.

“Ah, you want to come here two times per week,” Boris said in his deep baritone. I’d sent an email to him requesting more time in the kitchen.

“Yes, or maybe three if I could be of use.”

“Why?” He was giving me a piercing look.

“When I was away, I realized that this made me happy, and that I missed it.”

“You look tired. Upset.” I hadn’t expected to get pushback on volunteering. I put my hand to my forehead.

“It’s a side effect of the medicine. I’m actually quite happy right now, you know?”

“I can tell,” said Emma. “Even if you look upset, I can tell you are happy.”

“Hmm.” Boris stared straight into my face. I didn’t fake a smile, and I didn’t look away, but I couldn’t help that one of my eyebrows rose as he tried to judge my emotional state. “Very well. Let me know if it changes.”

“I will.”

“There is no shame in taking care of yourself.” Boris was the head of the soup kitchen. It made sense that he’d be considerate.

“That’s why I want to come here more often,” I said. “It’s very therapeutic for me.”

“That’s great news, Milo!” said Emma. “I’ve been missing you on Wednesdays.”

“Well, looks like I’ll be here on Mondays and Tuesdays now, too.” I mimed throwing something. “You can miss me much more often.”

“Emma is here every day,” said Boris. “I am proud of her.”

Emma playfully punched the much larger man’s shoulder. Boris was protective of the regulars, and although Emma was a volunteer, she’d become something of a regular herself. In fact, I knew she took some of the extra food home to her family. She had multiple reasons to volunteer.

“I’m not here every day,” she said. “Maybe every weekday.”

“An asset to the kitchen,” he replied.

“It’s fun, as Milo was saying.” She looked at me. “Better than giving away some of your salary, perhaps?”

I felt my happiness crack a little bit. “Less hours means less income. I’m trying not to get hung up on it.”

She nodded. “I feel your pain. It pisses me off when they cancel one of my shifts.”

“You work twenty hours a week?” I asked. It was common for restaurants and other establishments to hire people part time, like that, to avoid giving them benefits. It meant that a canceled shift would be a significant fraction of her income.

“That’s right,” she said, with an angry smile. “At two different jobs, twenty hours each. That makes it easy to surge on one when the other leaves me hanging.” Emma went on to explain that she worked at a fast food joint, but also as a cashier at a clothing store. She preferred the fast food position because it had less downtime. “My shifts seem to go by faster when I work hard, which is all I really want.”

“And yet you still find time to come here,” I said. “I admire that.”

“Thank you. I’d give anything for a full-time job, though.”

“Hmm. You have some sales experience, don’t you?”

“Selling hamburgers.”

“Well, are you any good at math?” I asked.

“Depends. What kind of math?”

“I mean–” I stopped to remember one of Chloe’s interview questions. “You’re selling a product for one hundred dollars. A customer wants to buy fifty–”

“Five thousand,” she said.

“--for a discount of fifteen percent on the total.”

“Oh. Uh… four thousand, two hundred and fifty.”

“How much does each unit cost, then?”

“Eighty-five dollars, of course.”

“What if we took another $200 off the total?”

“Eighty-one each.” I could see her expression change as she checked her answer. “Yep, eighty-one.”

“You are pretty good at math,” I said.

“It keeps me from getting bored at the clothing store.” She went on in a darker tone of voice. “I also keep track of bills in our house. Ma doesn’t have the patience for it.” I inferred that she was paying most or all of those bills.

“Have you considered becoming a salesperson?”

“No,” she said. “How would you go about that?”

“You’d have to know somebody,” I said. “But it can be very profitable. I actually know a guy who dropped out of college to do that, instead.” I gave her a stare. “I’ll ask him if there are any open positions at his company.”

“That’s awfully nice of you,” she said, one eyebrow raised as she met my gaze. “Tell him thanks, in advance.”

—

“You’re supposed to date her, not get her a job!” said Bella.

“I’m sorry,” I responded. “I couldn’t help it. She said that’s what she wanted and… well, she’s a hard worker.” Deserving a good job obviously wasn’t the same thing as being able to get that job, but Emma seemed like she might actually be a good employee. She was driven, that was for sure. If she got her temper under control she’d be like a younger version of Chloe. “Besides, it’s not at all likely we’ll hire her right now. We don’t have any open positions.”

“That’s nice of you,” said Bella, “But if she starts at your company you won’t be able to date her.”

“So you’ve come around to my point of view about Chloe,” I replied.

“Yeah. The idea of someone you could work with and love, perfectly balancing each other, seems pretty romantic.” Bella sipped her tea. “A romantic falsehood, contradicted by soul-crushing corporate reality.”

“Strange things for a college freshman to say,” I said. “You might be learning too much from my descriptions of work.”

“Do you think it’s different at any other company?” asked Bella. “Eventually I’m going to have to join one, myself. Probably.”

“All the evidence says ‘no’,” I said. “Alas. Maybe I should become part of a startup.”

“You’d die instantly from the stress.”

“I’d accomplish a lot first,” I said in my defense.

“At least you are taking some time off,” she responded. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” I said with a snort. She’d reminded me of Boris praising Emma at the soup kitchen. The contrast between Boris and Bella was immense; she was small and quiet. Unobtrusive, but cutting with her insight, whereas Boris was immense and spoke plainly. I found my heart warmed by her approval either way. “Glad to have your go-ahead. If you want to study on Fridays, I’ll be available then too, I suppose.”

“I have classes.”

“After that, perhaps.” I couldn’t tell if Bella was eager to spend more time with me or not. I had to admit I was enjoying helping her with calculus.

“What if I want to party? Fridays are when parties happen, aren’t they?”

“That you don’t know says they don’t appeal to you,” I responded.

Bella shrugged. “I might try all kinds of new things in college.” She went on in a fake whisper. “Don’t tell my parents I said that.”

I chuckled. “That’s the time to experiment, though, before it’s too late.”

She nodded. “Do you ever regret dropping out?”

“Constantly,” I said. “But the money was worth it, so.”

“Doing things for money–”

“Is unfairly maligned by popular culture.” I thought of Emma’s two part time jobs, and wondered whether anyone had ever told her to ‘stop doing things for the money,’ as though she weren’t doing it for her own survival, or that of her family, both of which were very important.

“Well, I think you should search for happiness in all aspects of your life,” she said. “I just wonder, has work been making you happy?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I have lots of it to look forward to, though.”