Chapter Text
Takahashi has always had a plan for his life. He would get into art school and make money that way. He’s more than good enough for that. He never bothered with making friends or anything that involved people. It was simple. There was no need for things like that. There was no need for useless emotions.
At least that’s what he thought.
The first time Takahashi saw Yaguchi, he didn’t think much of him. Just another guy in his art class. Except, Yaguchi started talking to Takahashi. No matter how cold or blunt Takahashi is, Yaguchi never seems to be put off like how others are.
Everything about Yaguchi annoys Takahashi to his very core. He’s so determined to do art despite him having everything. He’s popular. He has friends. Teachers love him. Good grades. A good life. A good looking face. Everything Takahashi doesn’t have.
What’s even more annoying is the way flowers grow on his skin easily. Takahashi has never had flowers pop up on his skin, but for Yaguchi, he always seems to have them. Yellow roses and sunflowers fall from his hands. Daffodils and zinnias frame his face and linger in his hair.
Not that Takahashi notices. Why would he? He hates Yaguchi.
“Yotasuke?” Hashida calls the dark haired boy’s attention, “What’re you thinking about?”
“Nothing.” Takahashi blinks his thoughts away. “None of your business.”
“What’s this then?”
Hashida reaches to pluck something from Takahashi’s hair. It’s a flower. A lilac. Shades of purple color the flower. They stare at it in silence, taking in the vibrancy of the colors and delicate shapes of the petals.
“What…” Takahashi speaks first, “Where did that come from?”
Hashida points the flower at him, “You.”
“No,” He furrows his brows, “No it didn’t.”
Hashida looks confused, “What do you mean ‘no’? I saw it grow from your hair- look here’s another one.”
Hashida tries to pick the other flower, but Takahashi flinches away. That can’t be right. Flowers don’t grow on him. They never have. All he was thinking about was how he hates Yaguchi-
“Woah,” Hashida‘s eyes widen, “More are growing, are they growing for me? I’m very flattered but-”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Takahashi ruffles his hair and lilacs fall to the ground, “These are nothing. A fluke.”
“A fluke,” Hashida repeats, “Oh, is that Yaguchi?”
Takahashi turns around and a big puff of flowers fall from his head and scatter around him and the bench he’s sitting on. He quickly brushes them off and turns back to Hashida who’s wearing a cheeky smile on his face.
“Hm,” Hashida hums, “Looks like someone has a-”
Takahashi stands up abruptly, cutting him off, “I need to go. My first day of TUA is tomorrow.”
“Right… rest up,” Hashida agrees, “Say hi to Yaguchi for me.”
Takahashi ignores the last sentence and starts heading back home. He ignores the lilacs painting his path. Lilacs must symbolize hatred. That’s what he thinks. It must symbolize hatred because that’s all he feels for the blond haired boy.
He goes to sleep that night with flowers scattering his bed. Every time he tries to make them stop, they double, so he gives up. He doesn’t think they’re that bad…
They smell nice. It reminds him of spring.
~~
Yaguchi takes in the campus before him. He’s been here a handful of times, but today is different. It’s his first day. He feels like throwing up. The anxiety bubbles in his gut and stays there, making his skin itch and the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
He takes in a deep breath which does little to settle his nerves. That is until he spots Takahashi. Red chrysanthemums sprout in his hair as he walks up to him.
“Takahashi,” Yaguchi smiles, “Nice to see a familiar face.”
Takahashi turns around and frowns. Despite that, lilacs begin to bloom, contrasting the bright red petals that adorn Yaguchi’s figure.
“Don’t act like you don’t like seeing me,” Yaguchi points out the flowers on Takahashi, “The flowers never lie.”
He quickly shakes them off and starts walking again, “They’re flowers of annoyance.”
“Sure, whatever you say,” Yaguchi laughs and falls into pace beside him, “So, what’s your first class?”
“Why do you care?” Takahashi huffs.
Yaguchi sighs, “No need to be so hostile. I have oil painting first.”
“I didn’t ask,” he keeps walking.
Yaguchi laughs dryly and keeps walking beside the annoyed Takahashi. They leave shades of purple and red as they walk. Yaguchi always seems to grow red chrysanthemums whenever he’s around Takahashi.
This would mean something to Takahashi, but he figures that since he blooms flowers for everyone, they don’t matter. To Yaguchi, however, the flowers falling from Takahashi mean everything.
“When did you start growing flowers?” Yaguchi asks curiously.
Takahashi pulls the flowers out of his hair, “I don’t know. They don’t mean anything.”
“I-”
Takahashi walks faster, trying to lose his companion, “I’m going to be late.”
Yaguchi watches as the dark haired boy heads to the building. Still, the pale purple flowers trail behind him. He smiles at that.
“Lilacs,” Yaguchi says under his breath, “They suit you.”
~~
It took Takahashi 15 minutes into class to make the flowers stop. The encounter with Yaguchi seemed to make his blooming flower problem worse, luckily all he had to do was stop thinking about Yaguchi. It’s not like that was hard for him to do.
Still, the fact remains that Yaguchi is the cause for all of this. Why? He doesn’t know… or rather he refuses to know. He leaves his mind blank as he sketches charcoal onto white paper.
“Don’t think, just sketch,” the instructor states, “We focus so hard on what we’re going to make all the time, but the fun in art is the obscurity of it.”
Takahashi rolls his eyes a bit at that. The obscurity of art. He was hoping to learn a bit more from this class, but he excuses it because it’s the first day. He lets his hand drag the pencil over the paper, not focusing on anything in particular. Lines and shapes start to build a picture as time goes on.
Takahashi is so zoned out that he doesn’t notice the teacher’s footsteps approaching him. He doesn’t even realize what he’s drawing, just honing in on each individual line.
“You must have flowers on your mind, huh?” The teacher breaks his concentration.
Takahashi looks up at her, “Huh?”
“You were the one who came in with a trail of lilacs following you, right?” The teacher asks, “Now you’re sketching a chrysanthemum.”
Takahashi finally looks at his paper, taking in the whole picture. There it is. In the middle of his paper is a rough sketch of a chrysanthemum. He stares at it in confusion.
“You know, the chrysanthemum means different things depending on the color-”
The teacher rambles on and he blocks her out, focusing on the flower. He didn’t mean to sketch it. He should be drawing lilacs if he was in the mood to draw flowers… this isn’t like him. He gets the urge to erase it. He picks up his eraser and starts to erase it when the teacher’s voice comes back from the background.
“So, what color is it?”
It doesn’t take much thought for Takahashi to say the answer. He already knows what color it is. The very same flower he saw earlier. The flower he wants to avoid. A small bud of a lilac falls in front of him.
“Red.”