Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was all Kofuku’s fault, really.

She had been the one to pester Yukine about his burgeoning crush on his friend. She had been the one to push him into confessing. She had even been the one to spend two hours with him in front of her laptop planning the best way to confess.

Apparently, Yukine’s crush - a boy in his class by the name of Suzuha - loved flowers. He kept a garden in his yard, and Yato had heard Yukine gush about it enough to know that it was both extravagant and well-cared for. As such, the two of them had decided that the ideal present to offer him would be a bouquet.

“I just don’t see the connection,” Yato said, stepping off the bus. He peered over Yukine’s shoulder, watching him type something into his GPS app. “If he already has a bunch of plants and flowers, why would you buy him more flowers?”

“Because flowers are supposed to be all, y’know, romantic and stuff,” Yukine explained. He grabbed Yato by his jacket sleeve and tugged him up the street.

“But what if he just thinks you’re getting him flowers because he likes flowers? And the romantic stuff just goes over his head?”

“That’s why I’m writing a confession letter to go with it. Kofuku and I planned it all out. The flowers are also supposed to show that I pay attention to the things he likes.” Yukine shoved his hands in his pockets, scrunching his shoulders up. Yato let a warm sort of pride wash over him. Yukine had come so far with talking about his feelings - the fact that he’d even mentioned having a crush, let alone asked for help confessing, was such a big deal - but he still became shy about it from time to time. 

It wasn’t that Yato could blame him, really. He remembered what it was like at that age. First crushes always felt so big and overwhelming, especially since you had nothing to compare them to. He was glad he was past that stage, and handled his own romances (as unfortunately few and far in between as they were) with maturity. Total maturity.

He stroked his chin, considering Yukine’s words. “So it’s like you’re speaking his language.”

Yato chose not to notice the blush on Yukine’s cheeks. “Yeah, something like that.”

“So why are we on the other side of town, then?”

“Oh, uh. Kofuku said we should use a different shop than Suzuha usually uses so we don’t accidentally run into him and ruin the surprise.”

Yato checked his own phone. It’d been nearly 20 minutes since they’d set out. Wherever they were going, it was certainly far enough out of the way to avoid Suzuha.

“There it is!” Yukine called, pointing to a small building nestled into the street corner, half shaded by a tall tree.

The shop itself wasn’t particularly flashy; if one wasn’t actively looking for it, they probably would have missed it. A short stone path lead up from the sidewalk, lined on either side by a handful of colorful potted flowers and shrubs. The storefront was simple, a pair of hanging pots with brightly blooming flowers framed the doorway. A wooden sign hung above the entrance, with “Iki Flowers” hand-painted in an elegant script.

“Cute place,” Yato commented. Yukine hummed in agreement.

The inside of the shop was just as charming as the outside. Nearly every wall was covered floor to ceiling with shelves, which in turn were packed so tightly with plants that they almost appeared to be growing out of the wall itself. Potting tables and long wooden benches were scattered around the single room of the shop, littered with simple ceramic pots, soil, and trowels. A single open doorway at the far end of the room led to what Yato assumed was a greenhouse or backyard of some kind, based on the light spilling through.

While Yukine let out an awed gasp at the sheer amount of greenery surrounding them, Yato’s sense of wonder came from a different source.

Nestled against the corner furthest from the front entrance was the checkout counter, and behind it stood a young woman. Her long brown hair was held back from her face by a bandana, and an apron was tied around her front. When she noticed them, her soft features rose into a smile so big and bright she had to squint her eyes.

Yato did not consider himself above cliche, and so would readily admit that his heart did, in fact, skip a beat.

“Hi!” she called, her voice just as cheery as her smile. “Welcome to Iki Flowers! My name is Hiyori. Is there anything I can help you with today?” She stepped out from behind the counter and approached them, and Yato was thankful that Yukine seemed to take the lead, since coherent speech was probably not an option for him in that moment.

Up close, Hiyori was even cuter than Yato had originally thought. Soft, rounded cheeks and warm brown eyes drew him in, captivating him in a way even the most beautiful flowers in the shop never could. She nodded along, attentive, as Yukine explained what he was after. Yato felt fortunate her attention wasn’t on him, as he probably had a very stupid expression plastered across his face.

“I see,” she said. “For something that big, you gotta make sure you do it right.” She gestured for them to follow her towards one of the flower covered walls. “There’s two important things to consider with a gift like this, and unfortunately they can sometimes conflict, so you need to know which one is more important for the situation.” 

She pulled two large pots off the wall, containing red roses and sunflowers, respectively. “Different kinds of flowers have different meanings, symbolism. Some are kind of obscure, but others are very well known, like these roses-” she slid the pot towards Yukine “-anyone you give these to will know that you have romantic intentions. It’s important to use the right flowers to get the right message across. However, it’s also important that the person actually likes the flowers you’ve chosen! A bouquet of their favorites could have just as much meaning to them. You said this person likes sunflowers? While they typically don’t have any romantic implications, they could be just as effective as roses for confessing your feelings, since you know they’ll make that person happy.”

“How do you know which ones to pick, then?” Yato asked. Hiyori and Yukine both snapped their gazes toward him, startled by his sudden question.

Hiyori shrugged. “It comes down to personal preference, really. Some people make mixed bouquets, or go all in on one. There’s no right or wrong way, as long as the person gets your message.”

Yato nodded, and tried not to notice the look Yukine was giving him out of the corner of his eye.

“So, do you have any ideas?” she asked Yukine. 

They ended up taking home a small bouquet of sunflowers and white roses. (“White may not be the typical romance color,” Hiyori had told them, “but roses themselves can carry romantic intent in the right context. And the white will look nice with the bold yellow and black of the sunflowers!”) Yukine had held them close against his chest the entire way home, careful to not let a single petal be disturbed.

However, he had no problems with disturbing his older brother.

“So, you’re totally into Hiyori,” he said once they were a ways up the block.

If Yato had been drinking, he would have choked. Instead, he let out an indignant “huh?!”

“Oh, come on! You were staring at her the whole time!”

“Because I was interested in what she was saying! About- about the flowers!”

“Oh yeah? Then what do sunflowers symbolize, hm?” He pointed toward the flowers in his bouquet for emphasis.

“Easy,” Yato said, crossing his arms, “the sun!”

Yukine quirked a smug eyebrow. “You lose, she said they symbolize happiness. Just admit you thought she was cute!”

Yato turned his nose up, refusing to acknowledge Yukine’s victory. “I don’t see why it matters. It’s not like I could do anything about it anyway. And besides, who’s to say I’d ever even see her again?” He shrugged.

“Whatever. I’m just saying, I don’t think I’ve seen you look at someone - or like, anything , really - like that in… a really long time. Or maybe even ever, actually.”

Yato wasn’t sure what he meant by that, so he swept it under the mental rug. Flower Shop Hiyori was nice, and yes, very pretty, but she was nothing more than a kind, passing interaction. And only that.

It was a week later, to the day, when Yato found himself standing on the sidewalk in front of Iki Flowers once again. If asked, though, he would make certain that he hadn’t been keeping track of the days. And he absolutely hadn’t been agonizing over whether the number of days were too few that they made him seem either overeager or were so many that he was no longer recognizable. It was completely just a coincidence. Almost a coincidence.

A small bell chimed when he stepped through the doorway. The shop seemed empty, then a young woman with short, light brown hair peeked her head in from the rear doorway. Yato was totally not disappointed at the lack of a familiar face. Not at all. The woman gave him a polite wave as she greeted him.

Yato approached her, about to ask for some assistance, when she squinted at him, then suddenly perked up. She held up a hand, and Yato paused. “Excuse me,” she said, “let me get someone who can help you.” Her tone was polite, but there was an underlying lilt to them that reminded him dangerously of Kofuku.

He had expected her to head back through the doorway and have someone else take her place. Instead, she held her open palm up to the side of her face and shouted , sing-song, “Oh, Hiyori! There’s someone here to see you!” There was some noise, and then she continued, in a whisper that was clearly meant to be overheard. “It’s that guy with the tracksuit and the blue eyes again!”

He was about to ask her about that tracksuit comment when a familiar face appeared from around the corner. Her cheeks were dusted a faint pink. Yato thought pink suited her.

“Yama-chan!” Hiyori scolded the other woman, who only giggled in response. She took a moment to smooth out her hair before she turned her attention toward him. “Hi! I’m sorry about her,” she gestured behind herself with her thumb, “it’s good to see you again!”

So it hadn’t been so long that he was forgotten. He wasn’t sure whether he should be surprised or not. “Um, yes! You too,” he replied, kicking himself for how awkward he sounded. Yukine would’ve been laughing at him if he had been there.

“How did the bouquet work out, if you don’t mind me asking? For your little brother.”

He was thankful for a direction to steer the conversation. “It was good! He told me his crush had liked them. He didn’t tell me how the whole confession thing worked out, but he’s been all smiley lately, so I think it went well.”

“Oh! I’m glad!” She clapped her hands together in front of herself, as a smile bloomed across her features. “It always makes me so happy that I was able to help with things like that, as small as my role may be.”

“I think the flowers were a big help, actually,” he assured. “They were quite beautiful.”

Hiyori’s smile only grew, though it was a bit softer now. “Well, thank you. We work very hard to tend to our plants here. We want to make sure we provide our customers only the best quality flowers.”

“And that’s why I’m back!” Yato exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of his feet a little. “I was, um, hoping to get another bouquet. For me, this time.”

“Oh,” she said, straightening up a bit. Something in her demeanor had shifted, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Another arrangement for someone special?”

Yato’s eyes widened. “No!” he practically shouted, waving his hands in front of himself. Hiyori looked taken aback. “Not for that! Just, um, for the house? To look nice. I’m- I’m not seeing anyone. Right now. I mean-”

He cut himself off when he realized that Hiyori was laughing at him. Seeming to realize what she was doing, a hand shot up to cover her mouth.

“I’m so sorry!” she said, after she had managed to control her giggles, “I shouldn’t have assumed. What kinds of flowers are you looking for, for the display?”

“Uh,” he stammered. Her laugh was a gentle, glittering sort of thing. He was torn between wanting to hear it again and avoiding making another fool out of himself. “Ones that… are pretty? I’m not really sure what most of them are called, anyway.” He shrugged. “I figured I should ask the expert.”

Hiyori perked up at his comment. “Well, you came to the right place! Come with me.” She stepped out of the doorway and moved toward the checkout counter. She beckoned for him to follow her.

The counter had received a new addition since he’d been there last. Before it now stood a three tiered shelf, and a small table tucked in next to it. Displayed on them were nearly a dozen ornate vases containing some of the most extravagant and beautiful bouquets Yato had ever seen. While he had admitted he did not know names and such of most flowers, he could at least recognize most common varieties. These displays, however, contained many that he had never seen before. Bright colors and unique shapes complimented the greenery nestled between them, almost distracting from the beauty of the vases holding them. There was a variety of them, ranging from simple yet elegant glass or crystal ones, to delicately painted ceramics. Each bouquet was distinct from the next, though all of them looked like they belonged somewhere fancier than Yato could ever hope to be.

Hiyori - who had bent down behind the counter and sounded like she had been rustling through some things - must have realized what he had been staring at. “Those are some custom orders we’ve made,” she said, pulling Yato from his state of admiration. “We’ve only just started doing them. People place orders for displays for events and such. The ones on the shelves are waiting to be picked up, and the table ones still need the final ‘okay’ from the customers.” Her voice glowed with pride. It must have meant something big in the florist world.

“That sounds exciting,” he said.

“It is!” she beamed. “Now, for your bouquet, I have an idea.” From behind the counter she pulled out two pots of what appeared to be the same flowers, one pink and the other red. The flowers themselves were rounded with many layers of delicate looking petals. Simple, but striking. “These are camellias. These plants have only just recently bloomed, and the flowers this season are especially lovely. Do you think these would work for what you have in mind?”

In all honesty, he had nothing in mind for the bouquet. Probably not the best move. The flowers were lovely, though; layers of curved pink petals reminded him of the curls in Kofuku’s hair. They would make a lovely decoration for the house, and a small token of his gratitude for having taken him and Yukine in. On impulse, he reached out to caress the silken petals. Just before he could touch them, Hiyori pulled the pots toward her, out of his reach.

“Please don’t touch them, you could damage them.”

He blinked, only just registering what he had done. “Oh, sorry.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “They’re perfect.”

Hiyori smiled at that. “I’ll trim these up for you then! If you come over to this counter, you can watch me make the bouquet.” She gestured toward the empty counter on the other side of the register.

Yato turned on his heel, sidestepping around the display table, eyeing the shining vases. The arrangements were truly impressive. His gaze didn’t stay on them long, however. At the work counter, Hiyori had pulled out a roll of paper wrapping and laid it out beside the two pots of flowers. She then pulled out a pair of trimmers and began gently shifting through the camellia stems.

Her fingers moved through the plant with expert skill; the flowers themselves were hardly disturbed even as she separated the stems below to be able to snip them. She somehow managed to distinguish which stems belonged to which flowers, despite how full and lush the plant was. Her brows were knit in concentration, though the rest of her face seemed perfectly relaxed. Yato once again was amazed at how knowledgeable and skilled she was at her craft. Watching her snip flower stems and lay them delicately on the wrapping beside her seemed akin to watching a great painter work, in Yato’s opinion.

“Hey, so,” she began, pulling him from his all encompassing admiration, “I don’t think I caught your name last time?”

“Oh!” he said, a warm blush rising in his cheeks, “Yato. You can call me Yato.”

She laughed, short and glittering, and Yato was sure his face was about to match the camellias in her hands. “Well, nice to formally meet you, Yato.”

“Yeah,” he said, “same here.” Not wanting the conversation to end there, he fished for a topic to continue. “So, how long have you worked here?”

“Hm?” she questioned, pausing her work briefly to shoot him a confused look, her head cocked to the side. “Oh, no. I own this place, actually! Iki is my family name.”

“Oh!” he eyed the shop name painted across the window behind her. “That’s amazing!”

There was her sweet laugh again, and a faint blush creeping up her cheeks as well. “Thank you. We’re still a pretty new business, so I understand.”

“So, you seem really passionate about flowers. It must’ve been something you dreamed about for a long time.”

“Well, not exactly. I actually had gone to med school first. My dad’s a doctor, so I was following his footsteps. But I took a botany course my first year and just fell in love with the flowers.” Her voice had taken on a wistful quality. “So I talked it over with my parents, switched my majors up, and here I am!”

He had been nodding along to her story, getting a bit lost in her soft features and the passion that glowed behind her eyes, like the embers at the base of a bonfire. He was so absorbed that he almost missed her question.

“Um, what?”

“I asked about you. What do you do for a living?”

“Oh, um,” a blush rose in his cheeks for an entirely different reason now, “I mostly just work odd jobs and such, whatever I can find. Just trying to get Yukine through high school. Once he graduates and we can reevaluate some stuff, I might try to go back to school or something. I’m… not totally sure right now.” He laughed, but it was a bit strained, abashed.

Hiyori blinked once, then seemed to put the pieces together and parse some of what he’d left unsaid. “It sounds like you have lots of great things to look forward to! And Yukine must be proud to know how hard his brother is working to take care of him.”

Her smile was gentle, and he matched it with one of his own. “Thanks. I hope so.”

“I can tell you care a lot.”

He shrugged. “I just want to make people happy.”

Thankfully their conversation steered into lighter territory after that, general small talk and jokes tossed back and forth across the counter as Hiyori gathered together the bouquet. Laughter volleyed back and forth as Yato’s body became looser and more relaxed, hopping a bit in place when he delivered a clever remark and getting a jitter every time he succeeded in making Hiyori smile. He was really starting to love her smile.

“Now,” she said eventually, “I hate to cut this off, but your bouquet is ready.” She held it up for him to inspect. 

At first glance, it seemed like a simple bundle of the red and pink flowers she had shown him initially. While it wasn’t anything as extravagant as the special orders she had displayed, closer inspection showed just how much care she had put into the bouquet. The balance between the two kinds of flowers as well as the leaves she had kept on the stems assured the arrangement felt even all around, not favoring one shade too much. The attention to detail with so little to work with was astonishing. 

“It’s beautiful,” he said. While he had meant it in regards to the flowers, he couldn’t help but notice the way the pink petals brought out a similar hue in her warm eyes.

“I’m glad you like it. If you’ll step over to the register, we can get you all checked out!”

While he didn’t want to see his visit come to an end, a hope fluttered inside him. Their conversation had been so easy, so comfortable. Maybe she saw it too. Maybe this had a chance.

His giddiness was welling back up, overtaking him in such a way that when he turned to follow her, he completely missed the display table of all of Iki Flowers’ custom orders.

Missed it with his vision only, that is, as he was very aware of the fact that his leg and hips had just collided with the display. It was also impossible to miss the way it toppled to the floor.

There is a sharp, cacophonous crash . Yato’s blood goes cold - cold enough to freeze him in place, arms still sticking out to try to balance himself.

The ornate, delicate vases were now strewn across the floor like confetti, large and tiny shards alike glittering in the strung lights above. Flower petals had been ripped from their stems by the impact, once flawless specimens now looking more like something found in a backyard garden trampled by a particularly rambunctious neighborhood stray.

“Oh no,” he heard Hiyori say, somehow, over the ringing in his ears. Her voice was low, chilly.

“Um,” he spluttered.

“ Oh no, ” she repeated, a fury growing behind her words.

Managing to scrape his senses back together, Yato straightened himself and backpedaled away from the scene of his crime. “I’ll go get a broom, I’ll, uh-”

“That was going to be our rent money this month,” she interjected. Her voice was like the entrance of a cave - cold and dark. “That was going to make sure I could pay my employees.”

Yato winces. “I’m sorr-”

“Stop.” She took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just. Stop.”

Two heads peeked in from the rear doorway. One he recognized as the brown-haired woman he’d met earlier - Yama, Hiyori had called her. The other was unfamiliar, with chin-length dark brown hair and glasses. The two of them moved in a curious synchronicity.

The dark haired woman spoke first. “Hiyori, is everything okay? We heard a loud crash.”

“Oh, that’s not good,” Yama chimed in, having just spotted the mess on the floor.

“Ami-chan, Yama-chan,” Hiyori said, straightening up. “Please help him complete his purchase and start cleaning this up. I… I need a moment.”

Yama grabbed a broom and dustpan while the dark haired woman - Ami - quickly crossed the room and began punching some buttons on the register. Hiyori then moved toward the back doorway, one hand covering her face.

Yato wanted to reach out, to apologize, but held himself back. Apologies wouldn’t fix the problem, anyway.

“Sir? I have your total.” Ami pulled his attention away from the back door he hadn’t realized he’d been staring at.

He pulled out his wallet and began sifting through the bills, taking a bit longer than he probably needed to as his mind kept getting tugged back to the disaster he caused. Yama had donned a pair of gloves and was plucking the damaged flowers from the carnage. Maybe there was something salvageable from them, at least.

He paid and took the bouquet from Ami, the bright, pristine camellias leaving a heavy feeling in his gut.

Kofuku loved the flowers. That was a nice glimmer of sunshine on an otherwise rained on day.

Yukine had confronted him that evening about his strange mood, and ultimately convinced (pestered, really, or possibly harassed) him to visit Iki Flowers again the following day. It felt too soon to Yato, but was probably better than letting everything fester.

The now familiar bell chimed as he stepped inside. A quick glance showed that the mess from the day before had been tidied, the only indication it had happened at all was the missing arrangements from the now righted display table. What made his breath catch in his throat, though, was when he noticed Hiyori behind the counter, working on a complicated looking arrangement. He couldn’t be sure, but he had an inkling it was a recreation of one of the ones he had ruined.

She was so engrossed in her work she didn’t notice his approach. “Hey,” he called, voice gentle. He gave a small wave.

She finally seemed to notice him then. Her slightly widened eyes the only giveaway in her conspicuously neutral tone, “Oh, it’s you. Hello, Yato.”

“I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” he dove in, “and…” he recalled the way Yukine had stood over him as he wallowed in bed, arms crossed over his chest, insistent on what Yato needed to do, “and I’m going to repay you for the damages I caused.” He pulled out his wallet for emphasis.

Hiyori only sighed, her shoulders slumping. She seemed more defeated than angry at this point. “I appreciate the offer, Yato, but I don’t think that will work.”

“No, seriously!” he pushed. “I’ll pay for it. You’ll probably still have some disappointed customers, but at least I can remove the financial burden.”

“Yato, I really don’t think-”

“I mean it! I know it’s a lot but I’ll pay it!”

As he was talking, she had quickly grabbed a piece of scrap paper and jotted something down. She then slid it across the counter toward him.

When he read the note, his jaw snapped shut.

“Holy…”

“Yeah,” she cringed. 

His thoughts darted around for a few moments. He couldn’t just walk away, even if the amount of money she’d written down was impossible for him to cover. “Is there any other way I can pay you back?”

“Listen, Yato, I know it was an accident, you can just-”

He thought back to something she had mentioned the day before, about her employees. “What if I offer my labor? Free of charge.”

That seemed to catch her attention.

“I can cover stuff like sweeping and throwing out garbage and all the other boring, time-sucking stuff so you and the others can spend your time on the flowers. I’ll work until you deem I’ve paid off what I damaged.”

She chewed on it for a few moments. Then, she nodded. “I guess I could make that work.”

“Great! I can… start today? If you want.”

She glanced at the clock on the wall before responding. “Come back today after lunch, about 12:30. Wear something loose and comfortable.”

He stepped back from the counter and saluted her. “Aye aye, Captain!”

Her smile was tiny, barely more than a twitch of her lip, but he considered it a victory.

He showed up later that day prepared for physical labor, dressed in his most comfortable tracksuit and a light blue bandana tied around his neck. (“It’s not a bandana, it’s a fluffy-fluff scarf, thank you very much!” he insisted when Hiyori had asked about it. He even flicked it up to emphasize the fluffiness. This had earned him a small snort laugh in response.) If he had thought she would ease him into the work, he would have been sorely mistaken.

He started with moving heavy soil bags from a shed at the back of the property up into the main building, and having to arrange them into stacks according to what types of soil they contained. Then he was directed to move and sort pots, which was physically easier but more difficult mentally, as he had to sort them by size, style, and materials. And when the moving and sorting was done, she seemed to take pity on him by asking him to do the slightly less backbreaking work of sweeping the shop.

He did notice the way she tensed a little whenever he swept around a pot. He made sure to be extra careful, then.

The work was simple enough, if exhausting. As the day rolled to a close, he was relieved to see several remade arrangements on the front display table. Hiyori also seemed to have relaxed somewhat as well. One strange thing did stick out to him, though.

“Where are those two other ladies?” he asked as he finished dumping his last round from the dustpan into the trash. “Did I miss them earlier?”

Hiyori looked up from where she had been wiping down the counter. “Oh, Yama-chan and Ami-chan? They’re only part time. I… can’t really afford to pay them for full time yet, so they both have other jobs too.”

That caused another wave of guilt to surge within him. She was struggling enough to pay her employees as is, the last thing she needed was another dent to her finances.

“Anyway, you were a big help today, Yato! I wouldn’t have been able to catch up on all those remakes if it wasn’t for you, so thanks.”

He lifted his scarf to wipe some sweat off his neck. “No need to thank me. I owe it to you, after all.”

“Maybe,” she said, “but… it can get lonely here, sometimes. It was nice having someone around.”

The flush on his face was from exertion, and certainly not anything else.

“Happy to be of service.”

They never actually discussed how many days Yato would be working, but for the next two weeks, he showed up every day he didn’t already have a job scheduled. Which, unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), meant he was at Iki Flowers almost every day.

As he grew more familiar with his tasks, he was able to complete them quicker, especially on days where Ami and Yama were there. As such, when he had free moments, Hiyori was able to pull him in to other projects.

“Yato,” she called. He was currently hunched over trying to pull a stray petal out from between two floorboards. His head perked up, though his body remained crouched and twisted to try to reach below the shelf the petal had fallen from. “Do you think I should go with the pink peonies, or the yellow peonies?”

He hauled himself off the floor, dust and dirt still coating his knees and elbows. He stroked his chin as he pondered the two flowers. “Yellow. The pink ones are too bold, they take over the whole bouquet. The yellow ones are a bit softer, and like… easier to digest.”

“Please don’t eat the flowers, Yato,” Yama called from across the shop.

“Hey! That’s not what I meant and you know it!” he retorted.

Beside him, Hiyori was laughing quietly.

Days when Ami and Yama were not there varied in pace, and came down to how many customers stopped by. While he of course wanted her business to be successful and thus wanted the shop to be busy, more customers meant her attention was taken up, which meant he had less opportunity to talk to her, even about things as simple as preferred flower colors. A sharp loss, but he supposed that in the end, it was for the best.

There was one particular customer, however, who really he wished had never walked through that door.

“Yukine-kun!” Hiyori called. “It’s so nice to see you again!”

“Hi, Hiyori,” he replied, “it’s nice to see you too!” Sometimes Yato forgot how good Yukine could be at layering on the “sweet, nonthreatening little boy” act. “Yato has told me so much about you!” And there it was.

She chuckled, “Only good things, I hope.”

“Oh, he’s said-”

“Yukine!” Yato bursts into the main shop, “what brings you here?” He tries to go for a casual curiosity, but Yukine’s smirk shows he sees right through it.

“You left your lunch at home today,” he said, holding up Yato’s wrapped bento box. “Kofuku asked me if I could drop it off for you.” It was also entirely possible - nay, more likely - that Yukine had volunteered for the job specifically for the opportunity to annoy his brother.

Yato wrinkled his nose. “Ugh, I didn’t actually forget it, I left it there on purpose. Kofuku prepared the lunches today, and you know her fish always upsets my stomach.”

“Oh, that’s a bummer,” Yukine said as he slid Yato’s abandoned lunch back into his backpack. “But since I’m here,” he spun around and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms in front of himself, “I actually had some questions about flowers I wanted to ask you, if that’s okay?” he asked Hiyori.

“Ooh! Does this have anything to do with the bouquet you got last time?”

“Oh, um,” Yukine spluttered, his face growing a deep shade of red. “Sort of, yes…”

Yato had returned to sweeping, but started making loud kissy noises at Yukine.

“Sh-shut up! It’s not like- well, it kinda is, but…”

Hiyori laughed at their antics, and Yato’s heart may have skipped a beat, because for the first time since before the accident, it was the gentle, glittery sort of laugh.

“It’s okay, Yukine-kun. What would you like to know?”

Yukine spent the next couple hours in the shop, following Hiyori around as she explained things about different flowers to him and answered his numerous questions ranging from symbolic meanings to caring for the plant. Yato, as per his duty as older brother, would occasionally interject to tease Yukine. Who, in turn, gave back as good as he got.

In the end, Yukine ended up leaving just before Yato’s lunch break, having accrued a vast new wealth of botanical knowledge, and a pair of particularly large sunflowers. 

While Hiyori closed up the shop for the break, Yato picked up some takeout for the both of them. “My treat,” he told her when she tried to protest, “for entertaining my brother for so long.”

“Nonsense,” Hiyori told him. “I enjoyed my time too! It was fun getting to explain all those things to him. He’s a good kid.” She smiled then, bright enough to reach her eyes.

“Eh, he’s alright,” he joked. When she gave him a playful chiding shove across the table, though, he conceded. “Yeah, okay. He is a pretty good kid.”

The following few days were fairly routine, with the added bonus of hearing Hiyori’s laugh more and more often. She had long since caught up on remaking the destroyed arrangements, and had instead poured her spare time into crafting her own unique designs.

Now, Yato was still far from an expert, but had picked up at least a few things over his time at Iki Flowers. So, when he entered the main shop after having spent a while in the back room, he was able to identify the flower clippings strewn across the floor.

“What’s with all the daisies?”

Hiyori’s head perked up from behind the counter, which was covered almost completely by daisies and a handful of small vases. “Oh, the daisies ended up producing more flowers than I was expecting, so I’ve been… experimenting.”

“I can see that.” Still no expert, but he wasn’t sure what exactly differentiated the clippings strewn on the floor from the ones she’d selected to work with. At least, he felt bad having to sweep them up and throw them out. “Well, we close soon, so you might want to start packing up your experiments.”

She glanced at the clock, seemingly only just realizing that it was getting dark outside. “I suppose the rest will have to wait until tomorrow. Do you mind helping me get these into the fridge?” She gestured to the flowers on the counter.

He moved to help her, gathering them into his arms carefully so as not to dislodge any petals. While they were doing so, he gestured with his head toward the discarded flowers. “What about those? They don’t look too bad. I’d hate to just chuck ‘em, y’know?”

Hiyori pondered a moment, then her face suddenly lit up. “I have an idea. Once we get these put away, meet me out here. I’m locking up a little early today.”

Yato followed her instructions, plopping down on a stool near the potting bench.

Once the doors were locked and the unnecessary lights shut off, Hiyori began scooping up the extra flowers. “Yato, have you ever made flower crowns?”

“Not that I remember, no.”

“Good! Because I’m going to teach you. And daisies happen to be perfect for this.” She took the gathered up flowers and dropped them gently onto the bench beside Yato before pulling up an extra stool for herself. “We can start small, with just a bracelet if you want.”

He watched as she grabbed a pair of flowers and began to slowly weave the stems together. She made it look effortless, but he was already getting lost in the pattern.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

She handed him two flowers, then held up two of her own. “Ok here, just copy what I do, okay? Watch closely.”

If he weren’t so eager to actually learn this skill, he’d probably have been more distracted. As it was, he found it easy to follow her instructions; her voice was so nice to listen to, and her tone always encouraging.

“Oh no! You got it twisted up. Here, let me help you…” she placed her own daisy chain down and moved toward his, but rather than grabbing it and fixing his mistake herself, she took his hands into her own, guiding his fingers to move in the correct pattern.

Heat crept up his neck, and he was sure his hands were about to start shaking. “So, um, what do daisies mean?” he asked, in an attempt to shift his focus.

“Daisies, like most flowers, can mean lots of things,” she said. Her voice was a bit lower than usual, a touch softer. Combined with the low lights and their hands still tangled together, it all felt intimate in a way they hadn’t reached before. “Some say they symbolize true love, but I think that’s a lot of pressure to put on such a delicate flower.” Her hands slipped from his, but the tension still hung in the air. “I prefer to see them as a symbol of new beginnings. The first new flowers of springtime. Something new to look forward to, something not weak, necessarily, but precious.”

Their eyes met, and it was silent for just a few moments. Few, precious moments.

“Do you think you’ve got it down, now?” she asked.

“I think I’m getting there, yeah.”

It was dark by the time they ended up heading home. Yato had several missed calls and texts from Yukine and Kofuku asking where he was.

Hiyori had insisted he bring home some of his creations for Yukine and his “friend,” and Kofuku 

as well. He chose his three least twisted up bracelets for them, and kept a crown for himself.

Yukine had teased him for it, but Yato didn’t really mind. He hung the crown by his bed that night, and when he drifted off, it was to the memory of warm hands on his own, and thoughts of dandelions in the spring.

He hadn’t noticed it as it had been happening, but the special orders from the displays up front - both the remakes and the lucky few who had been spared from Yato’s disaster - had long since been picked up. A few new ones had taken their places, just as lovely as the last ones, if not more so. 

It was when Hiyori caught him staring at the table that everything began to crash down.

“It’s been a few weeks now, hasn’t it? With everything going on, I suppose I just lost track of time.”

“I guess it has been that long, yeah.” Yato knew where this conversation was going. He didn’t know how to stop it.

“I think it’s safe to say you’ve paid off your debt now, don’t you?” Hiyori asked. Her smile was as kind as ever, but there was something else behind her eyes. “It wouldn’t be fair to keep you here any longer. And besides, you’ve actually helped out way more than I was expecting!”

He gripped the broom in his hands a little tighter. “I… I could still stay on a little longer, if you need my help. We have that new soil shipment coming in on Friday, and-”

“Ah, thank you, Yato, but Yama-chan, Ami-chan, and I can handle the soil. Today can be your last day, okay?”

She seemed so insistent, he knew he couldn’t argue with her. It stung. “Sure,” he acquiesced, “I just… have really grown to love this place.”

“I’m glad! I’ll be happy to help you next time you need any flower arrangements. Be sure to tell Yukine-kun the same as well.”

“Of course,” he nodded.

She was too far away from him to tell for sure, but he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could see tears in her eyes. Or perhaps it was just his own.

He was just about to head out that evening, when Hiyori called to him. 

“Yato, if you could just come here real quick. I have something I want to give you.” She was leaning against one of the potting tables - the same one they’d made their daisy crowns at, if he remembered correctly. From the way she was standing, she had something hidden behind her back.

He was sure his confusion was written on his face. “I thought I was the one paying you back, remember? You don’t have to give me anything.”

“True, but I want to.” Her smile seemed genuine, if a little sad. “Okay, close your eyes.”

He did so. 

“And hold out your hands, both of them.”

He did, and then felt something heavy be placed in them.

“And, open your eyes!”

In his palms rested a small clay pot containing a plant with small bundles of blue flowers. ‘Thank you, Yato!’ was written on the pot in black ink, and beside it was doodled a little crown, similar to the emblem on his tracksuit jacket.

“They’re pretty,” he said, aware of the awe leaking into his voice.

“Right? Such a beautiful, bright blue. They’re called Forget-Me-Nots. As the name suggests, they symbolize things like remembrance, and connections between people.” She paused. “You’ve been a big help to me, Yato. I really appreciated everything you did to make up for the accident. And it’s been nice having someone else around the shop so much. I hope this flower will help you remember the fun times we had these past few weeks.”

He cradled the pot closer to his chest. “I don’t think I could ever forget it.”

“Me neither.”

Naturally, suddenly stopping something you’d been doing nearly every day for a month is… strange. Yato wakes up the following morning painfully aware that he has nothing to do. In the past, he might have seen this as a good thing. A time for lazing around and catching up on whatever television series he’d been following. Now, though, it felt empty.

He starts to go through the motions, to direct his energy toward something else. He eats, he gets dressed. He starts working around the house while Yukine is at school. (Kofuku quirks an eyebrow at him for this, but doesn’t say anything.) He grabs his wallet and heads to the grocery store. In the evening he helps prepare dinner and even wash up after.

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with my Yato-chan?” Kofuku grilled him while he was elbow deep in soapy dishwater. 

He shrugged. “Just felt kinda antsy, I guess. Wanted to do something.” 

“I like it,” Yukine chimed in. “The more dishes he does, the less I have to do.”

“Ooh, good point, Yukki!”

As he got ready for bed that evening, his gaze lingered on the Forget-Me-Nots he’d placed near the window. 

Yato hadn’t been entirely honest, earlier. He didn’t feel antsy at all. In fact, it was the opposite. He had felt just as empty as he did when he woke up throughout the entire day. He had thought that maybe he’d just gotten used to the workload, and if he kept himself busy, like he was at the shop, it would go away. The fact that it hadn’t meant only one thing.

Well, one and a half things, sort of.

He really, really missed Iki Flowers. And he really, really missed Iki Hiyori.

The next day found Yato on the sidewalk in front of the familiar flower shop. The tinkling of the bell sent a happy warmth down his spine. 

“Yato?” He jerked his head instantly toward the sound of Hiyori’s voice, something thrilling swirling in his gut. “What are you doing here? Did you need a bouquet?”

“No, I…” All the excitement bubbling inside of him was suddenly stopped up. What did he say? That he missed the shop? The flowers? That he missed her? What if that was crossing a line, somehow?

“Could you tell me more about Forget-Me-Nots?” Oh, why couldn’t he just say it…

A bright, familiar smile bloomed across Hiyori’s features. “Of course! But I have some custom orders to get done today, so… how about tonight? Over dinner, maybe?”

If the feelings weaving through his chest were anything to go by, his smile matched hers.