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Ogata was a master at wielding the weapon of deception. However, he never thought that lying to people didn’t always have to harbour malicious intent.
Ogata and Sugimoto’s love affair had been hiding in plain sight under the noses of everyone on the gold hunt team for a couple of months now; it helped their case that the hatred they displayed for each other in front of everyone else was genuine. Their relationship was complicated, to say the very least.
Ogata was feeling exceptionally lucky they didn’t get caught this time around. Volunteering to pick flowers in a field was more than out of character for him. Ogata could still remember the pleasant smile on Asirpa’s face as they sat in the Kotan the previous night; the young girl spoke about how Inkarmat and Tanigaki had brought their baby girl into the world, hearing about it via a telegram that Tanigaki sent to Huci.
“Who wants to help me make them an arrangement of flowers? Many beautiful plants are currently in bloom!”
Ogata had been sitting in a corner, uninterested in the conversation per usual. He was polishing the wood on his rifle, his attention weaving in and out of the conversation. Caring for his gun was better than hearing about whatever brat Private Tanigaki just had. Although, his ears perked hearing the voice of Sugimoto the Immortal.
“Ooh, I’d like to do that,” He began, but Asirpa’s laugh interjected.
“Of course, you want to, Sugimoto. You probably just want to find some snacks out in the fields.”
Ogata snickered at the jest, but only to himself. He ran his fingers over the now smoothed barrel of his rifle. The conversation escaped him again as a juvenile yet playful argument stemmed between the two. His attention was soon yanked from him by Asirpa’s voice again.
“Well, then… does anyone volunteer to help Sugimoto eat snacks- I mean, pick flowers?” The slip of speech was intentional to patronize the man further. Koito and Tsukishima were in their own world, and Hijikata didn’t jump on the offer either. Nobody spoke up until a gravelly voice broke the silence.
“That sounds fun.” Ogata spoke from his solitary corner. His unamused eyes shifted toward them. Asirpa’s sudden confusion paired with a smile; she looked at Ogata in pleasant disbelief.
“Ogata… you actually want to?” Asirpa’s question lingered in the air. Sugimoto locked eyes with Ogata, and the look he received was all-knowing. Ogata’s lips curled up into a smile.
“That’s right.” Ogata said plainly, not elaborating on his choice to join Sugimoto in flower picking. Either way, Asirpa was celebrating this sudden social spark within Ogata.
“That’s great! Did you hear that, Sugimoto?!”
That late-night conversation was why Ogata was now under the early morning spring sun, a back pocket full of orange lilies.
“You know, you’re fucking crazy,” Sugimoto started, doing his part in picking flowers. He and Ogata were back to back among the flowers. Ogata stayed quiet, anticipating why exactly Sugimoto thought he was ‘fucking crazy.’ After a moment of silence, Sugimoto told him just that.
“After you left to take a piss, Asirpa actually started accusing somebody of drugging your food to explain why you were so chipper to join me.” Sugimoto said, disbelief embedded in his voice. Ogata chuckled, turning his head to the side.
“Is it really so unbelievable that I wanted to pick flowers with you?” Ogata knew the answer to that question; amusement hung from his words.
“Yes, it is.” Sugimoto grumbled, the rhetorical nature of Ogata’s question flying over his head.
“Relax, we’re alone here.” Ogata attempted to diffuse Sugimoto’s grouchy attitude, turning to face his back and placing a firm yet gentle grasp atop his shoulder. Sugimoto turned to face Ogata now, the other man’s hand falling to his side.
“That’s the problem. There’s gotta be at least one person by now who noticed us spending time alone together whenever we get the chance.” Sugimoto complained.
“Oh, you hurt my feelings, Sugimoto. Is it that bad for the others to find out?”
Again, the question had an answer already. This time, Sugimoto caught on. He scoffed. Ogata’s tone remained neutral, not giving into Sugimoto’s short fuse. A smirk began to dance over his lips.
“I don’t even know why we’re doing this. I can’t stand you sometimes.” Sugimoto bluntly said, but this didn’t hurt Ogata’s feelings. Ogata’s smirk grew, and Sugimoto knew the man well enough to recognize that was the onset of something.
“It’s fun, isn’t it?” Ogata said, his right hand lazily grasping Sugimoto’s waist. He was more of a pain in the ass today, most likely on purpose. Sugimoto couldn’t help but crack an uneven smile, embracing the situation and relaxing his posture.
“I guess it is pretty fun.” Sugimoto admitted easily. One of Ogata’s pupils peered up at Sugimoto, the other stationery. The sun cast down its beams, and the glass within Ogata’s eye socket sparkled. The prosthetic was always a reminder that wherever this affair took them, the unforgiving shadow of uncertainty always loomed over them. Love on the battlefield seldom received a happy ending. Sugimoto wanted to be the death of Ogata, and Ogata wanted to be the death of Sugimoto. Of course, only one could succeed in that. Maybe even neither.
Sugimoto finally did it, erasing the distance between their faces and placing a kiss far too tender on Ogata’s lips. Ogata kissed Sugimoto back, sealing his eyelids shut. Sugimoto brought both his hands up, cupping Ogata’s head around each ear; his fingers enjoying the fuzzy yet soft texture Ogata’s undercut gave against his rough hands. If the two soldiers were anyone else, this sight would have been romantic, but they couldn’t have been like anyone else, even if they tried.
Sugimoto parted from Ogata’s lips, beginning to place playful pecks against his jawline instead. Ogata craned his head to the side, sighing contently at the feeling.
When Ogata turned, his eyes fell on his rifle resting on top of a bed of flowers. The petals seemingly threatened to consume it, and the gun sunk into them. Amongst the spectrum of lilies that grew, Ogata’s sharp eye noticed a single red camellia blooming all by itself. It was a bizarre sight. Ogata became distracted at the prospect of a single different flower growing among so many of the same. Sugimoto seemed to catch onto Ogata’s distraction and ceased the intimacy to turn and see for himself.
“What?” Sugimoto bluntly asked, his untrained eye not even seeing the flower. Ogata parted from Sugimoto’s grip, scoffing at his incompetence before he bent down and plucked the flower from the ground. He promptly returned to Sugimoto and held it up in front of him. Sugimoto was unimpressed.
“So? It’s just a flower, tons of them around here.” Sugimoto teased Ogata, as if he somehow didn’t notice they were currently surrounded by flowers.
“No, you idiot. Don’t you notice that this one is different from all the others?” Ogata told him. Sugimoto quirked an eyebrow in curiosity, tilting his head to the side as he observed the flower.
“Huh. I guess you’re right.”
The two men silently observed the flower for a moment.
“Wonder what kind of flower this is,” Sugimoto thought out loud, bending down to smell it still in Ogata’s grasp. Sugimoto expected a sweet smell, but bitter Ogata snickered and shoved it up against his nose. Sugimoto jerked away, the tip of his nose now coated in yellow pollen.
“Man, you fucking suck!” Sugimoto complained, laughter shadowing his words. Ogata returned the laugh with nothing more than a simple grin. Sugimoto wiped the pollen away with the back of his hand, then the back of his hand onto his pants.
“I wonder if this flower has some sort of special meaning.” Sugimoto said, Ogata allowed him to take it from his hands when Sugimoto reached for the flower. Sugimoto’s spirituality had been tuned a bit higher from spending so much time around Asirpa and her culture, and Ogata found Sugimoto’s faith endearing; probably because he just thought it was stupid.
“Maybe.”
A hint of amusement was in Ogata’s tone. He couldn’t care less about what the spiritual meaning of anything was, but he couldn’t lie about his interest piquing. Seeing this flower was a hell of a chance encounter.
Tanigaki entered Inkarmat’s hospital room with the bouquet behind his back. The woman was quite tired, cradling their baby before her attention was stolen by her partner entering the room.
“What do you have?” She asked with amusement, smiling up at Tanigaki as he made the fact he was hiding something behind him embarrassingly obvious.
“Oh…!” Tanigaki exclaimed as if he had no idea Inkarmat could see he was holding something. He returned her smile as he approached the bed, bringing the arrangement of flowers into view and presenting it to her.
“This is to us from everyone in Sugimoto’s group.” Tanigaki told her, feeling pride prickle up within his insides as Inkarmat’s face lit up and she reached for the bouquet.
“Oh, how thoughtful…” She said, pleased. Her fingers traced around the petals of the flowers. It was made up of beautiful vibrant lilies, most of them being orange; although the star of the show was the single Japanese red Camellia placed within the centre.
“This flower in the middle symbolizes love. How nice of them to gift it to us, it looks intentionally picked.” Inkarmat commented happily. Tanigaki beamed, leaning to steal a glance at it.
“That’s nice of them!” He echoed her praise. Inkarmat’s spiritual senses made her develop a sneaking suspicion that this flower of love was meant to represent the passion between two completely different people, but she decided to accept it for herself anyways.