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It was an average lunch period, like any other, when Shiori Miura, plan-maker extraordinaire, asked Kenji Ikeda, completely unprompted: “Kenji, do you happen to know anything about flower language?”
Taking a moment to look at her in between bites of his camp-allocated cafeteria food (today’s item du jour was an American-style “mashed potatoes and gravy” kind of a deal), after really thinking through whether or not his slight knowledge of ikebana and floristry counted, he decided on, “Well, honestly, I’m not an expert expert, but I do know which plants mean really bad things. Why?”
The violet-haired young woman put down her fork against her plate with a clank. Kashie, sitting beside her, flinched. “Oh, shoot, Kashie, sorry--lost in thought.” Back to Kenji she turned. Ah, well, it’s because… You know how hard it is to be a counselor?”
This was a rhetorical question, right? Kenji nodded, either way.
Karen, who was sitting on Kashie’s other side, jumped in. “Well, you see, Kenji, Shiori here was pandering about how to cheer up Mr. Saiki.”
“...Pondering, I think you mean,” Remy bashfully cut in from Kenji’s side.
“Oh, yeah, pondering,” Karen nodded.
“Still, that aside,” Shiori went on after a swig of water from one of the cafeteria cups, “We want to gather flowers for him into a kind of bouquet, and don’t want to accidentally give him one that means, ‘Oh, you’re the absolute worst,’ or, ‘You suck as a counselor,’ y’know?”
“I don’t think there is one that means ‘you suck as a counselor,’ specifically,” Kenji chuckled. “Still, I’m glad to help. How are we going to do this?”
It was Kashie’s turn to cut in. “Me and Karen, Shiori, Gorou--” Gorou, who was seated on Kenji’s other side, nodded in approval-- “you, and Remy… We are all going to, uh…”
She trailed off. The bear-pelt-clad girl was always a bit bashful when it came to talking to people who weren’t Shiori. Still, after a pause, she finished, “Gather flowers… If that’s all right, of course.”
“Of course,” Kenji agreed. “When?”
“Well… Are we all done eating?” Shiori asked, gesturing to everyone. The majority of the table nodded, Kenji included. “Perfect! Onward we go!”
It was decided that, in the end, instead of splitting up, it would be best to go together, as Kenji was the most likely to be able to identify poisonous plants. That, and also, while the rest of the campsite was probably fine, no one really trusted Remy to survive on his own in a forest, considering his track record with animals. Bless him. Still, this ended up working out in Kenji’s favor; Kenji was a bit smitten with Remy, and Remy seemed to feel the same way. So, he certainly didn’t mind an excuse to hang out with his crush. Kenji took Remy’s hand, and Remy grabbed back. No one seemed to notice, but blushingly, the two smiled at each other, basking in the happiness they gave to each other.
As it was a light, early-spring day, our intrepid Penultimates had lucked out; it was prime flower-season. Their adventures took them across all of the open areas of the campsite, leading past a small creek, the infamous graffitied rock, the charred remains of the barn, the flagpole from the first trial, and even past Mr. Saiki’s counselor cabin. They tried their best not only to ignore these stark reminders of their pain, but also, tried not to be too loud, in order to prevent Mr. Saiki from leaving his cabin to check on the noise. As they walked, Shiori tried to concoct a tale about various flowers that Kenji gave her the meanings for--most notably, a red camellia samurai who died, leaving his lover, a white mum, mourning for him, and also, suddenly, they were in space? Somehow, it was a sci-fi romance? How did she think of these things?
Either way, while Kenji hadn’t been horribly close to this ragtag flower squad, outside of Remy (for obvious reasons), by the end of their adventure, he’d grown quite fond of them all. Even if it had been tiring, it was, above all, fun. He’d also gotten some new acquaintances out of it, so he couldn’t complain.
After a few hours of gathering flowers, it was time to arrange the gift. Kashie and Karen tried their damndest to put them all in a vase, and Gorou, wisely deciding that his talents in snow sculpture weren’t ideal for the situation, offered some critiques and helped Shiori tie a bow to go around the plants’ container. Right before they finished, Kenji took stock of their finds: A few daffodils, some bluebells, and a couple of pink roses, for good measure. All in all, no faux pas here, luckily. Phew.
The entire group of teens eventually, once they had assembled the blooms to their liking, marched on over to Mr. Saiki’s cabin. Shiori, having been deemed the de facto leader of their small flower-picking brigade, was the one to knock.
After a pause and some clanging--and a large thump--Mr. Saiki blearily emerged. He must have been napping. Rubbing his side, which, based on his wince, must have been smarting from that thump they’d heard, he managed, “Oh, Shiori, Gorou, Kashie, Karen, Remy, and Ikeda. That’s… a lot of you. Hello. What brings you here today? Is everything all right?”
“We have a gift for you!” Shiori beamed. Karen and Kashie, in the back, held up the vase with flowers in it--why the cafeteria cabin had had one, no one really knew, nor questioned, but hey, it worked out in their favor.
“Flowers...?” Reijirou noted, confused. “What for…?”
“Y-you seemed stressed,” Kashie piped in.
“So,” Gorou continued, “We figured we’d give you a gift to make you feel better. Shiori and I did the bow.”
“Kashie and I wrangled the flowers,” Karen explained.
“Arranged,” Kashie cut in.
Shiori conceded, “...Actually, Kashie, Karen wasn’t necessarily wrong that time.”
Karen shone with pride. Kashie was also impressed, and clapped lightly.
Timidly, Remy added, “And I helped Kenji pick the flowers. After all, he’s a plant expert.”
Blushing a bit at the praise, even if was true, it was Kenji’s moment to shine. Clearing his throat, he explained, “We picked daffodils for respect, bluebells for gratitude, and a couple of pink roses for trust and happiness.” Moving beside Shiori to be at the front of their small squad, while he couldn’t see Remy’s face, he could feel Remy beaming behind him.
“Oh my goodness,” Reijirou gasped, taking the flowers from them, “Thank you all so much! This is amazing. I’ll have to make you some food tomorrow to repay you.” He eyed them with pride, like a parent taking a child’s art from their class and putting it on a refrigerator. “I’m putting this on my desk! This is amazing! I’m going to cook myself some dinner and call it a night before the Monokuma Announcements sound, but thank you all again!”
Mission accomplished. Waving him farewell, the kids went back to the cafeteria, chattering with joy about their successful cheering-up. Before they sat down at their table, after they’d placed their respective plates on the table, Shiori raised her hand in a high-five beside Kenji. “Thanks again for the help, Kenji! We couldn’t have done it without you.”
High-fiving her back, he smiled as the others also joined in the high-fiving extravaganza, thanking him and thanking each other in turn. Taking his seat, he felt a hand grasp his own. Remy, beside him, blushed a bit. “Good job,” he smiled.
A smile on his own face, in that moment, content and surrounded by friends, Kenji Ikeda had to concede; sometimes, being a Penultimate wasn’t so bad.