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Wherever they went, the flowers always followed.
Within the clouds of grey, or the muteness of the small town of Salem, the only thing that seemed to bring any sort of vibrancy or color was the flowers. A monochrome picture with some beauty hidden in it. With their pretty designs and delicate petals, the flowers kept this small town alive . Or at least most things alive.
Behind the old house, the flowers in the garden had started to blend in with the surroundings as well, drying up and decaying. Belladonnas wrapped around the metal gates like a snake and hugged against the rust. It preserved the little memories that remained in the dying flowers. The vibrance and saturation in the petals had begun to die and Sakusa Kiyoomi had no clue what to do with them. Whether to get rid of them, or let them crumble by themself, he was stuck , stuck in this battle with himself. But, he knew he had to let the garden go, forget everything- forget her if he wanted to save himself.
While all this happened, Miya Atsumu just sat on the stone bench. Faded and dull, he looked at his ex-fiance. Hair kept in the same tiny blonde bun he always had it with forget-me-nots in his hair and poppies growing out of his skin. When he sat, the pink roses next to him began to regain a little bit of the color in its crumbling petals, which also began to unravel. He couldn’t see him, but he felt him in the garden. Felt his presence and felt as if he was still there, but when he turned to the old bench, he wasn’t there. The bench remained empty and so did his heart that longed for him.
“I wish you were here,” he said in a nonchalant tone.
“I wish I was as well, Omi Omi,” he said back, but he couldn’t hear him.
“Come back to me,” he said, feeling the lump in his throat come back.
“I can’t , ” he replied, with that he faded and the pink roses began to muten and decay again; The petals began to fall.
The following day, Atsumu sat amongst the city’s garden, even with him being dead, it felt nice to be outside. Felt nice to at least feel his phantom body touch the flowers and smooth grass. Though his sense of touch had begun to fade, the flowers were always kind to him. Even the ones that prodded out of his skin, White Lilies seeped out of him today. The torn sleeves of his maroon button-up were hidden beneath the white petals. He looked amongst the flowers and sat along the yellow marigolds that surrounded him. Sakusa was out of town from his knowledge and the house felt abandoned without him. Preferably, he doesn’t like to interact with Salem, but it was rather lonely without him.
That’s when he noticed another man in a whit button-up with his hair down enter the garden. From the bangs that were against his forehead, he was a brunette with green undertone. If anything, Atsumu thought he was a porcelain doll that had come to life. Or like the little doll his sister had when they were little. Everything about him just screamed ‘perfect’; The type of perfect that intimidated him and made his soul shiver. So he fled the garden and watched as the mysterious porcelain man became confused as to why the flowers looked like they just survived a huge gust of wind. He was clueless of the events that went down here.‘What a weird occurrence,’ the man thought. Then he walked further into the garden.
Within a few days, the flowers on Atsumu's skin began to diminish and fall out of his blonde hair. His hair remained the same, it just lost the flowers that stayed in between the gaps to fill the void. A floral galaxy it was, each flower being a different star or constellation of its own. Until the last one fell out and fell through his button-up. It left a small hand-picked bouquet of flowers on the bench that laid still. Nothing Atsumu did or said moved or changed them, they just laid there. He looked back at the broken flower beds in the garden that had slowly laid to rest. The flower beds he took care of and loved so much, now neglected and fading into the garden as well. While feeling the cold gravel against his hand, a silhouette could be seen walking towards the gate. The gate screeched and there he was again, the porcelain man from the other day, here. But, why? What was he doing here? Why was he here? Questions ran through his head and he just watched as the man looked around the garden with wonder. His face turned towards the stone bench Atsumu was floating on and sat down next to him. They both just sat down and took in the view of the garden. In all it’s dead and muted glory, very macabre and very depressing, but some of the most beautiful things don’t need to be nice.
Both of their trains of thoughts are taken aback when the metal gate screamed even more. Sakusa was there as well, with a look of anxiety and sweat dripping down his face. He looked like he had been running for a long time. He turned to him and sat next to her, which caused Atsumu to abruptly move and sit on one of the flower beds, a sprout began to appear. ‘A Hyacinth,’ he thought to himself, happily wondering what color was going to appear. But they slowed their growth and Atsumu turned back to the Sakusa and Porcelain ,am.
“Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he asks, he finally caught his breath and his hands gripped his breeches.
“I’m sorry, I was wandering around and I suppose I got lost. Oh silly me,” he replied with the most monotone voice, looking back at him with an apologetic look that screamed serious.
“I suppose it’s rather alright, you’re not hurt or scared. Just wait for me next time, you’re new around these parts,” he scolded lightly, though he meant well, it was awkward. Black eyes meet olive green eyes like the Atlantic and Pacific ocean meet, never mixing and blending in, they just meet. Their eyes must’ve synced because they chuckled softly, whether it be an inside joke or the awkwardness got to them, Atsumu just blocked it out as the buds of flowers began to pop open. ‘Yellow and purple? Why are they yellow and purple?’ That thought was unfortunately cut short as he turned her head towards the two.
Oh.
Oh.
The flowers made sense now; They bloomed when Sakusa and Porcelain man interlocked their lips. They both chuckled even more before they threw each other into a hug and just sat there. Their body temperatures had begun to even out and they relaxed into each other’s arms.
They stared at each other with love in their eyes. His soul started to convulse and flowers bloomed randomly out of her arms, neck and face aggressively and rapidly. Black tar oozed from his eyes and the bruises and burn marks began to reappear and his hair fell out of the small bun. Arms flickering in and out of existence, Atsumu felt as his skin was burning all over again. He curled into a small ball and then twitched and turned in so many unnatural ways. Before it all just… stopped immediately and his spirit fell on the dirt of the garden bed. The burns and black liquid faded, but the flowers stayed. Yellow and purple inverted petals poked against his body, covering the burn marks. His hair went back in the small bunf and more Hyacinths in the same purples and yellow appeared in the blank parts of his bun like little clips.
‘It’s too early for him to be moving on,’ he thought while his lip began to wobble and the flowers began to wilt again. It had only been 6 months since his unfair death. Taken away from this world and with no reason but the fears of people who couldn’t handle the unknown or different. He wasn’t “normal” enough for society, so he paid the consequences of being different; with his life. Now he was here, just a ghost that had to sit on the sidelines and watch as his lover moved on and her other half become whole with another. Without him . He felt himself fade out of existence.
The final Hyacinth had decayed and let out a snap, the petals were a horrible brown with faded purple and yellow. The snap of the dead flowers snapped the couple out of their daze as they turned to the noise. A small group of dead Hyacinths awaited them, brittle and snapped to the side.
“Sakusa, were those there before?” he asks, turning to his boyfriend who looked at the flowers with a serious glance.
“No Ushijima, they weren’t. But that isn’t the matter, why don’t we go inside?” he says, getting ready to stand up and looking at him again.
“Sure Sakusa, I’m pretty sure there’s a spirit here. I don’t like it here anymore,” he mumbled that last part, but Sakusa heard it. He stopped in his tracks before continuing to walk and Ushijima followed along quietly. They walked towards the gate and closed it, the metal whispering as the gate door was shut softly. When they were out of sight, the gate cried once more again, but nobody was seen leaving the garden, it must have been the wind.
~~~
Another morning at church had been going by slowly for Atsumu and Sakusa. The priest had been preaching God’s word and everyone sat there and watched in silence. But something had taken Atsumu out of her daze as the man closed his book rather harshly and cleared his throat.
“As we are going through these rather sinful and unfortunate times, more people have begun to show that they are not God’s men and women and turn the devil,” the priest began. Audible gasps of absolute horror could be heard throughout the small church and people began to mumble amongst themselves. Their faces went pale and their eyes darted across the church.
“Now now settle down, we are in God’s place. We have nothing to fear.” The crowd said their small ‘amens’ and went back to listening to the man at the pier. “As more sinful souls are taken away by the trials, spirits roam around this town and have the devil in them still, but the worst ones are the ones in heavy distraught. A soul that has negative energy is vulnerable to Satan’s ways. Whether it is distraught, sadness, or fear that consumes the mind and then leaks into the soul. Which becomes vulnerable to the devil and destroys the soul itself. Their last bit of humanity will be gone. Be weary my fellow Christians, as we are safe as long as we are faithful.”
The crowd clapped and Atsumu just sat there with a lump in his throat. Church was not a safe place.
~~~
In Sakusa’s office, he sat in his favorite chair and was doing his work while Ushijima slept soundly in the guest bedroom. His pen scribbled away on the paper and he filled the page to the brim. The next trial was coming up rather soon and he was needed there. He kept writing and writing away, he could feel his hand go sore. His mind was blank, the only thing that was going through his head was to work . Work until his hand fell off or there was no more paper in the world. The paper began to whisper even faster as he picked up the pace and some words came out as gibberish. The whispers got louder and louder until-
*Snap*
Kiyoomi lifted his head up to see what made that noise, his head turned to the corner of the desk where the oil lamp resided. The lamp sat next to a vase that began to collect dust in the foggy water. The vase held roses that had completely wilted and began to snap in half. Some petals had fallen into the water or onto the desk. But, the final rose had snapped and he was left with a decapitated bouquet of roses.
‘Miya...I’m sorry, but I can’t go on like this,’ he thought while his lips pursed and the ink bled through the paper. He just stared at the bouquet like it was the devil himself. Without thinking, he grabbed the vase and placed it gently on the floor before he went back to work. The rest of the night went on as he scribbled away as the night became late.
In town, the moon shone brightly, the only light the town had during the darkest hours of the night. All of the candles and oil lamps had been turned off and nothing could be seen except the shadows of the buildings. The leaves crunched softly under the pressure of Atsumu’s feet. He flickered and faded, he faded in and out as he panted and cried, but no tears were streaming down his face. He kept running and running until he made it to the city garden, which was barely visible in the moonlight. The trees blocked out most light and the light that showed through was very dim and scattered everywhere. He had no shadow, no way of showing he physically existed, he was still just a ghost.
When he made it to the center of the garden, he lost all sense of thought and sympathy and just walked slowly towards one of the rose bushes. His hair unraveled out of his bun and black tar fell down his face softly, before he took the first hit at the bush. Petals fell off the buds fastly and then the rose came next. Until all of them were on the floor and decaying slowly. He ran towards another plant and tore, kicked, and hit them without any remorse or regret. This loop of anger and aggression kept going on and on until there were no more flowers and plants remaining. There was a huge mix of reds, greens, pinks, oranges, and yellows all over the destroyed garden. His screams and cries became more and more disoriented as the rampage went on and on until he didn’t even sound like himself anymore.
He collapsed onto the ground as Petunias popped out of his skin and tar seeped out of the wounds. His eyes lost the hazel color that was his iris and blanked into just white. His skin was corrupted with black rigid veins that faded into his hands that had begun to blacken as well. His limbs moved in many ways and her head snapped to the right in a millisecond. Within her disfiguration, all of the pieces of the flowers and other plants began to surround him in a circle like a tornado of color. Flowers had appeared in his mouth and petals and tar began to fall out as well. The more tar circulated throughout his soul, the more flowers that grew. It was water to them, its source of energy and life.
His body straightened and snapped back to normal and the flowers hugged around him. Rose’s button-up had torn and flowers popped out of the holes. Hisbody floated off the ground and into the sky, he began to tremble like a leaf in Autumn. Black veins began rapidly appearing and tar now spilled from his eyes. The Petunias fell out of his mouth before the most unhinged, demonic, and gut wrenched scream left his soul. He screamed as the petals spun faster around him and turned the most vibrant and brightest red to exist.
All of the petals stopped in their tracks, floating in the air as if gravity didn’t exist. But then ran as fast as they could towards Atsumu’s corrupt spirit as they covered his body. As the petals touched him, he fell to the floor onto his knees. His body trembled harder and faster until he stopped completely, his head falling forward as he slouched even more. It was five seconds of silence, no destruction, no screaming, no crying, just pure peace . Peace that could only last for so long.
Atsumu’s body began to convulse again as the petals turned into a heavenly white. They illuminated brightly as they circled out and back in. Then and only then had the petals combusted, going into a small frenzy before falling to the ground in a white pentagram. Atsumu’s soul had begun to flicker in and out as he laid herself on the petals. Closing his now hazel eyes as he began to fade out. Within the now monochrome plants, a small Marigold appeared.
Atsumu’s spirit was human, and sometimes all humans know how to do is crumble and fall apart.
When Sakusa went into town the next day to pick up a request from the flower shop, the talk of the town was crazy. He was baffled and appalled by the rumors, but something about it sounded familiar . Has this happened before? Does he know someone (Dead or alive) who could’ve done this? Why was this going on?
People kept mumbling on and on about the garden and its state. Rumors had it that the garden was being cleansed as well. It was so much for Jasper to unpack and all he could do was silently walk to court without batting an eye to someone else. He could feel the town’s hysteria rise up as well.
“This was the doing of a witch,” someone said.
“Our town will be forever haunted,” someone else said.
“We need to get rid of the flowers, it’s much too dangerous to have them,” someone cried \
out. Sakusa had begun to walk to the court while avoiding the people around him. He knew something happened and began to connect the dots on who did it, but he had to keep quiet about it. This town was a hysteria frenzy, he couldn’t bring it up anymore than it was. Walking quickly, the garden stood there and he turned towards it. The entrance was trying to lure him in, but he didn’t pay any mind to it. So he kept walking towards the court, ready to execute another person. His face had no expression or emotion, he was just used to seeing people dying for no reason other than the hysteria of the town.
Within a week of the flower incident, the word had begun to die down. As the newest trial was the biggest thing talked about now. The plants in the garden had begun to regrow and the color had slowly begun to restore itself within them. Salem was getting the little color it had back. Things were slowly going back to normal, or as normal as they could get. Trials have slowly become mere history due to the severe decline in population. Only time will tell.
The forest was full of secrets and narrow gray trees that surrounded Sakusa as he destined further and further into the forests of Salem. Orange and yellow leaves began to fall off its thin branches and clutter on the ground. His shoes made the leaves crunch under his footsteps, but that didn’t matter. He was getting closer to the location he needed to go to,the old vase in his hands. The vase he used to store the roses that his ex fiance grew himself. Until he couldn’t grow them anymore.
He approached the small willow tree that stood firm and tall. It looked untouched and unnatural, just how she would’ve wanted it to be. He gripped the vase and divided the strands. Hidden beneath its long green strands, laid a small stone and wilted flowers from previous visits.
“May God Bless This Soul
Atsumu Miya
1667-1692”
His handwriting was engraved on the flat stone he took off the bottom of her favorite bench. After his body was burnt to ashes, he had no resting place, so he gave him one. Gave him a place to rest for the horrid acts the people of Salem have done to him. The wind started to blow light against the dead flowers and they swayed in the wind. He placed the vase behind the piece of stone and sat in the leaves, feeling them rustle and poke and prod at him. With one final sight, he began to talk.
“Miya, I hope you can hear me and that you’re doing alright, wherever your soul may be. I’ve heard about your little incident in the garden and how you made all of the flowers die. Very clever, my dear. You always caused a scene when you were still with me. But, I’m not here to bring up the past. I’m here because I am ready to let you go. I cannot go on like this, I’m sorry. I plan to move to Ushijima’s hometown with her and start my life anew. I could never call Salem my home with all that has happened this past year. I hope we meet again, in another lifetime.”
With that last statement, he stood up slowly and left the grave. The Butterfly Weeds in the vase swayed gently in the dying wind. Atsumu reappeared finally, back to where he came from. His button-up was still torn, scars from the Petunias, and dried up tar on his cheeks. The only thing that remained relatively the same was his bun, blonde strands of hair tied perfectly in the back of his head. When he stood up, he looked around to see if anyone was there. But there wasn’t a single soul (or spirit) to be found anywhere. He was alone again, like always; And like always, he stood there. When he looked down, he noticed the vase of the orange flowers that stared back at him as well. They started appearing on his skin and through the seams of his torn shirt. They littered his skin, and more and more popped out within seconds. Then the burning feeling returned…
~~~
“Burn the witch!”
That’s the only thing that could be heard from the angry mob. Torches set aflame and pitchforks being raised in the air, the people were angered. As Atsumu was being manhandled to the stake, people yelled and screamed insults and profanities at him as if it were a normal thing. Trying to grab at him with their hands or run towards him. The only thing saving him from the mob was being dragged to death itself. Sakusa followed behind him, trying to interfere with the execution.
“My brother in christ.” The priest stopped him from going any further by putting his arm out and stopping him. “There is no point, the devil has taken over his soul and now we must kill off the host. It is rather a very excessive way to rid us of the devil, but what must be, must be done,” his reply was firm and left no room for retaliating. The priest pushed Jasper away from the crowd, there was nothing he could do to save Atsumu now.
Having is arms bound back, Atsumu watched as Sakusa walked away with the priest. His heart did not break, for he knew that this wasn’t his fault. When the rope was finally tightened, they pulled his bun off and watched her hair fall. Blonde hair fell to his face and the two men hurried to get off the post. As the people kept getting even more antsy to kill him off, he looked down upon the men and women “of Christ”, claiming to “love thy neighbor”. The oil had been splashed on the ground and on the wood of the stake. His final moments were coming to a close.
Then the light had been striked and the wood had been extinguished. The fire grew angrier and angrier as it consumed the wood and began to rise. Atsumu watched as the fire crawled closer to the ends of his pants and he looked up. The stars shone brightly and the moon was above the horizon. When he looked at Atsumu, tears stinged his eyes and he pursed his lips. The fire was getting closer and closer.
“Until we meet again Omi Omi,” he said. The fire had begun to engulf him in the raging flames and he felt the burn. He didn’t scream or cry, he just burned. Within the minute, his final breath had been taken.
“Until we meet again, Miya.”
~~~
His cries began to disorient again and he convulsed. Black veins reappeared and his hands blackened again. Tar streamed down his face and his eyes went white. The Butterfly Weeds grew and grew until they gripped onto Atsumu’s arms and pulled . They pulled him to the ground and he screamed harder. Being dragged onto the ground, Atsumu felt himself dying again. Except this time, this death was slow and painful. He watched the strands from the Willow Tree get further and further away from his grasp until he couldn’t reach them anymore.
Until they meet again.