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Azuma pauses as they leave their room and looks around as he takes in their surroundings. Guy takes the opportunity to do the same, peering over Azuma’s shoulder at the hundreds of flowers scattered across the courtyard, vibrant blues and pinks and reds covering every blade of grass below.
“What is this?” Guy asks hesitantly, hoping Azuma can provide some kind of explanation.
Azuma just shakes his head, but as Guy directs his gaze back to him he can see something of a twinkle in his eye. “Why don’t we go ask?”
And if Azuma can’t supply an answer, he figures that one of their troupe members sitting criss-cross among the flowers can—save for Hisoka, who snoozes peacefully on the bench he seems to have claimed for himself.
The early spring air is still cool around them, nothing like the warmth of a Zahran one. To Guy, it still feels like winter, but Azuma’s arms are bare and the others are basking peacefully in the shade, unbothered by the chill. Compared to the last few months, it is much warmer now, much more familiar to him.
He follows Azuma down the stairs and into the courtyard, and though he’s careful to avoid the flowers on the ground he still crushes several of them into the grass. There are far too many of them, and he is much too big. But no matter how much he tries to muster up remorse for the flowers, there’s something in the atmosphere that erases those thoughts entirely.
It’s nice out here, surrounded by these flowers. The fragrance is as multifaceted as the colors around him, reds and yellows and blues mixing into one pleasant scent.
“What are you all doing?” Azuma asks, drawing Guy’s attention downward where Kazunari is so buried in flowers it looks like his torso is growing out of them.
“We’re makin’ flower crowns! It’s totally fun!” he says, flashing a too-bright grin and a peace sign in their directions. He holds up a string of flowers all braided together. “They’re fake, so we can keep them forever.”
“The director and Taichi-kun brought them home,” Tsumugi explains, sheepishly holding up his own unfinished crown. “So we wanted to do something with them.”
Guy notices that even Tasuku has been dragged into this, his pile of flowers intermingling with Tsumugi’s.
“Shall we join them?” Azuma turns back to Guy with an easy smile, reaching out to him as if by instinct. Azuma catches himself, though, and pulls back to wrap his hand around his arm.
In his mind, Guy sees a young Citron with a bushel of flowers in his arms, a wide smile on his face as he carries them through the palace halls. He had trailed behind him, picking up the ones that fell so that not even a petal remained.
“I have never made one before,” he admits.
“Neither have I,” responds Azuma.
Guy nods once and follows Azuma to an open spot among the flowers. In this area nestled between Kazunari and Itaru, there are small piles of assorted flowers, mostly pinks and oranges. Guy spots a white one hiding in a nest of pinks and pulls it out. It looks like a small ranunculus, its wire stem short but pliable. “How do you make one?”
Azuma hums softly as he digs through the flowers, grabbing random flowers in an assortment of colors. He dumps them all into his lap until he’s buried under them. “You need a wire for the base, and then you wrap the flowers into them.”
Sure enough, there’s a coil of thick green florist wire nearby, already half-used from Itaru’s multiple failed attempts—if the discarded wires and torn flowers that litter the ground around him are anything to go by.
Azuma unravels the wire and wraps it around his head, eyes rolled up as if it were possible to see what it looks like. “What do you think, Android-san?”
“I think it’s a green wire,” Guy says, settling himself into what little space is left on the ground. Azuma chuckles, dropping a pile of flowers onto him, and Guy can’t help but think they match, in a way.
“You’re not wrong about that,” Azuma says, taking the wire and snipping it. He coils it around itself to seal it shut and holds a flower against it as if he were appraising a priceless treasure. “Do you want me to measure your wire?”
Guy assumes this task must be simple, for a novice like Azuma to have measured his own so quickly, but Azuma’s eyes are bright as he waits for Guy’s response, and he changes his mind at the last second. “If you would, Yukishiro.”
Flowers fall in waves off of Azuma’s legs as he shifts his position into a kneel, leaning over just enough that he can gently wrap the wire around Guy’s head. It presses around him as Azuma adjusts it, his slender fingers just slightly grazing against his hair. It tickles, and Guy clears his throat to cover up the tiny giggle that threatens to bubble out of his mouth.
“Are you all right?” Azuma asks, his ponytail falling onto Guy’s shoulder as he leans down to check on him. “You’re not getting sick, are you?”
Guy coughs. “No, I don’t get sick.”
Azuma hums and the wire lifts from around him. “This should be good. Do you think so?”
Guy turns to watch as Azuma twists the ends of the wire together, fingers working methodically. “I think—”
“It looks like a green wire?” Azuma’s smirk is small and bright, his eyes squinting with the motion.
“I was going to say I think it looks very nice.”
Azuma laughs, and Guy takes the crown, playing with it in his hands as he looks around at the flowers around him. “What kind of flowers will you choose, Yukishiro?”
“Oh, this and that.” Azuma picks up flowers at random, handing some off to Guy every so often. “You want to wrap the floral tape around the stems to attach them to the crown. Like this, see?”
He fumbles through piles of flowers until he produces a roll of green tape and peels off a piece, his fingers working quickly as he presses a camellia to the wire and wraps the tape around them.
Guy observes the technique and applies it to his own crown, grabbing a ranunculus and a couple sprigs of cilantro blooms. The way Azuma watches him carefully makes Guy feel somewhat self-conscious, but he tapes the flowers to the crown nonetheless and holds it out for him to see, like a child showing off an art project.
“How lovely,” Azuma says. “You have quite the eye for this, Guy.”
“Thank you.” He watches as Azuma attaches a few brightly colored peonies and fake berries to his own crown. “As do you.”
“I’ve always thought flower crowns were quite beautiful.”
“Why have you never made one before?”
There’s a moment of quiet between them as Azuma ponders the question. “I suppose it’s because some things aren’t quite as fun when you’re doing them alone.”
“I see.” Guy picks through the flowers around him until he finds a particularly beautiful camellia. Its color is a deep and vibrant red, a bright contrast to Azuma’s pale skin and hair. “I’m glad you’re no longer alone, then.”
Azuma takes the flower from Guy’s outstretched hand with a smile that brings the same rosy color to his cheeks. “And that’s thanks to you, Android-san.”
There’s still a chill in the air that seeps through Guy’s long sleeves, but he barely even notices it anymore as he continues to search through the flowers with Azuma. There’s a certain warmth around him that doesn’t come from the breeze that flutters the petals of their crowns, a warmth that blossoms in the same way as the flowers in their hands.
It’s a beautiful spring day, he decides.