Chapter Text
Artwork Commission by nintnot
“So, do my eyes deceive me, or does it look like someone finally bought that shop next door?”
Kōtarō looked up to see Kuroo Tetsurō, his best friend and business partner, entering the store. Kōtarō put down the cloth he was using to wipe the glass counter, and grinned.
“Someone did?” he asked, letting himself bounce up and down in excitement. The storefront to their left had been empty for nearly a year. The one to the right…well, it was a very successful ramen shop, and while the food was delicious, the lunch and dinner rushes were insane, as was the turnover rate. Kōtarō never really got to know any of their employees, and he always liked to know his neighbors.
“Yeah,” Kuroo said, coming over to stand beside Kōtarō and turning on the computer. “The ‘For Rent’ sign is gone, and it looks like there are boxes in the shop.”
“Yeah!” piped up Hinata, their piercer and other employee. He looked up from his station, which he was sterilizing to prep for the day. “I think it’s gonna be a flower shop!”
“A flower shop?” Kōtarō and Kuroo said together.
“Yeah!” Hinata dropped several needles into the sterilizer, then went to get a new set of gloves. “I saw a couple people next door yesterday—Bokuto-san, I think you were with a client, and Kuroo-san, you were on the phone.” Hinata tapped his chin as if trying to recall what exactly happened. “I saw boxes, yeah, but also really large vases, like the kind you put in a refrigerator for flowers!”
“Did you happen to see who the owner is?” Kuroo asked.
“No.” Hinata frowned. “There was one man who seemed to be directing everything, and then a few other men who were moving all the items.” He shook his head. “I was busy getting my equipment ready for my next session, so I didn’t really have time to pay that much attention? Just that it looked like it would be a flower shop, from the items they were moving in.”
Kōtarō let out a happy little yelp. A flower shop! In their little strip mall?
“Calm down, Bo.” Kuroo had a reassuring, steadying hand on Kōtarō’s arm. “We don’t know anything about them yet. They could be real dicks, you know.” He scowled. “What can be good about people who sell flowers, anyway?” He grimaced. “Like they’re making money off other people’s affections.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Hinata mused, pulling up a new set of latex gloves with a slap. “It’s kind of romantic, owning a flower shop. Imagine all the stories I bet that they have! What do you think, Bokuto-san?” Hinata nudged Kōtarō, but all he could do was admit that he, too, was kind of excited to see who would be moving into the flower shop.
“I think,” Kōtarō said slowly, his voice picking up cadence as he spoke, “that it’ll be really cool! And hopefully they won’t be dicks—” He flashed a glare at Kuroo, who returned it evenly, “and maybe they’ll be nice enough to invite us over, or let us invite them!!”
“Bro,” Kuroo replied, and Kōtarō could just tell he was smirking, “it’s their place of business, and this is ours. We don’t invite people over to the shop to hang out, do we?”
“No,” Kōtarō answered triumphantly. “People just wander over here to see us all the time!”
He saw Kuroo frown, but chose to ignore it. Their shop was definitely a place to hang out, even if Kuroo didn’t want to admit it.
“Well, anyway,” Kuroo continued, slipping on his glass and peering at the screen, “I hope that it’s not going to take our business.”
“How could it do that, Tetsu?” Kōtarō asked, confused. “It’s just a flower shop. It’s not like they do tattoos like we do!”
“You never know, my dear Bo,” Kuroo sighed, but Kōtarō ignored him and went back to wiping down the counter, making sure to get all the fingerprints off the glass so the different items they sold in the shop showed through the case.
The day was definitely a busy one, and Kōtarō had a number of clients, some of whom had fairly complicated designs. But he couldn’t help but be distracted by the comings and goings outside their shop. He saw more of the giant vases that Hinata had observed, but he also saw large boxes, refrigeration items, and more and more boxes. He even saw them carrying in the pieces to a new counter!
Kōtarō didn’t get a break until later in the day, and by then, the shop next door was empty. But even still, he couldn’t help but take a quick walk outside—right to the shop, where he pressed his face and his hands up to the glass and peeked in.
What kind of people owned the shop? Would they get to be friends?
Kōtarō couldn’t wait to find out.
All week, people had been coming and going from the new flower shop. Kōtarō had seen a steady stream of movers, designers, and other florists, and they brought all kinds of new and interesting items to the shop. Kōtarō couldn’t pay too much attention—he was supposed to be working with clients, after all!—but he did his best to watch the comings and goings next door, in hopes of catching a glimpse of the mysterious new owner.
Kuroo and Hinata had their own theories about who the owner was, of course.
“I bet they’re nursing a broken heart,” Kuroo supposed. “And the flower arrangements are all representative of their lost love.”
“I bet they’re a mysterious magician, on the run from the government!” Hinata exclaimed. “And they have help from a familiar who is a grumpy old cat, but has a kind heart.”
“What do you think, Bo?” Kuroo asked, shooting Hinata a worried glance. “Do you have a…normal theory…as to who the owners are?”
Kōtarō, though, could only shrug. “I’m going to wait and see!” he said. “I bet the owner is someone special, though!”
Kuroo and Hinata had both rolled their eyes at that, but Kōtarō felt sure: he couldn’t think about who the person was, because when they met, he was sure that, no matter what they were like, he and that person were going to be friends.
After all, one had to be friendly with one’s neighbors, right?
The Saturday after the first moving vans had shown up, Kōtarō parked his bike in front of the tattoo parlor, like always. He made sure to set his brake, like always. And he made sure to tuck his helmet carefully under his arm, also like always.
But what wasn’t like always was the giant banner hanging on the awning over the flower shop.
“GRAND OPENING!” it read in vibrant pinks and purples.
And, sure enough, the windows were full of flowers, and ribbons, and bright decorations.
Kōtarō bounced where he stood. A grand opening! In their little row of stores! How lucky could they be?
“Not fucking lucky,” Kuroo groaned when Kōtarō entered the tattoo parlor. “This grand opening is gonna take up all our parking and our clients won’t be able to get here for their appointments!”
“But isn’t it exciting, Kuroo?” Kōtarō raved. “We haven’t had a grand opening in our area for such a long time!”
“Not one that actually counted, anyway,” Hinata added helpfully.
“Besides,” Kuroo frowned, “any walk-ins are gonna get swayed by the pretty flowers and the ribbons and ignore us in favor of them!”
“We don’t have room for walk-ins today, Kuroo-san,” Hinata said from his position behind the counter. He was looking at the schedule with a focused glare. “We’re booked solid all the way from opening to closing.”
“But still!” Kuroo moaned, covering his face with his hands. “We could have booked all those new appointments!”
Kōtarō huffed out a chuckle. “You’re so dramatic, bro,” he said, patting Kuroo on the bicep. “Let’s just get our day started, and maybe on break one of us can sneak over there and scope things out.”
“You!” Hinata piped up. “You want to scope things out, Bokuto-san!”
Kōtarō blushed. Guilty.
He didn’t answer Hinata, and instead went about sterilizing his equipment and reviewing his clients for the day. He had a few consultations, and he wanted to make sure he had his portfolio and sample sketches ready for them.
A quick glance at the clock showed him that it was almost 11. They’d be opening up soon, and Kōtarō’s first appointment was at noon. He needed to get himself together, and fast!
The three of them worked swiftly and silently; Kuroo was sketching on his tablet, glasses perched on the end of his nose, pausing occasionally to nibble on the end of his tablet pencil. Kōtarō wanted to lecture him, but he knew that Kuroo had a whole list of things Kōtarō did that annoyed him, so he bit his lip and stayed quiet. Instead, he watched Hinata clean the counters, the chairs, and the work stations. His equipment was all sterilizing, and Kōtarō was glad to see Hinata taking initiative and pride in a clean workspace.
Kōtarō, though…
Well, he was supposed to be prepping his workspace, reviewing his sketchbook, checking the schedule, but he felt…distracted…by something.
He couldn’t quite put his finger on it; there was something in the air, something crisp, and charged, and Kōtarō could feel it thrumming through the very center of his core. His mind was unfocused, drifting; he flipped through the images on his tablet, frowning at them all. His first appointment was just a consultation, and he’d wanted to have the perfect piece ready, but he’d done several sketches and was just now realizing that maybe the sketches were crap.
He wanted to throw them away, to start over, but at this point, he wasn’t sure if…
The sound of the doorbell distracted him from his thoughts. He looked up to see the front door slowly swing open as the bell overhead swayed from the movement.
“Pardon the intrusion,” said a gentle, sonorous voice. “I’m from Aoba Flower Shop, and I wanted to stop by to say hello?”
Kōtarō, Kuroo, and Hinata all stopped what they were doing, shifting their gaze to the front door. Kōtarō let out a gasp he was sure everyone must have heard, because standing there, quietly closing the door behind him, was the most beautiful man Kōtarō had ever seen.
He was tall—very nearly Kōtarō’s height, and only Kuroo was taller than him—with thick, curly dark hair that fell about his forehead in beautiful waves. His face was attractive: handsome nose, cut jaw, perfect mouth. He wore a pair of rectangle-shaped glasses, and a sleek, navy blue sweater, which paired well with his khaki pants. His form was slim, but attractive, and Kōtarō wanted to get closer so that he could find out what color the man’s eyes were behind the glasses.
“Well, hello.” And, oh no, Kuroo’s voice had that lilt to it, that tone that he used when he was feeling flirtatious. “Not to worry at all; we’ve been wondering when we might see someone from your shop.”
“Ah, yes…that.” The man paused, clasped his hands in front of his sweater, and bowed his head. “On behalf of my co-owner,” he added softly, “I’d like to apologize for not coming by sooner. We’ve been so busy getting ready for today, we haven’t had much time to introduce ourselves to the other stores along here.”
“That’s okay,” Kuroo began, but Kōtarō saw the smirk on his face, and felt a rush of heat course through his body. He was the one who needed to talk to this man! Not Kuroo! He simply had to talk to him or…
“We’re glad you’re here now!” Kōtarō shouted, bounding across the room and shoving Kuroo out of the way. He heard Kuroo grunt, saw him adjust his glasses, but he stepped aside, even if he did it with a scowl. “Are you opening today?” he asked. “We saw the sign hanging up on the awning, and your shop looks like everything is in there!”
The young man nodded; Kōtarō could see that his eyes were a beautiful shade of blue—dark, with a hint of green, and definitely mesmerizing. “Yes,” he replied. “We’re opening at noon today. I hope that we won’t get in the way of your business.”
“Actually—” Kuroo began.
“Not at all!” Kōtarō exclaimed. “We were just saying how happy we are to finally have some new neighbors! That storefront’s been empty for so long, we were starting to wonder if we’d ever get someone new in there.”
“Yes, well…” The man blushed; pink bloomed over his cheeks and nose, and he looked down for a moment, apparently bashful. Kōtarō nearly swooned.
How was it that someone so beautiful had come into his life, was now working right next door to him? How lucky was he?
“It took awhile to get the paperwork and the contract and all our vendors sorted,” the young man said softly. “My co-owner was insistent that we negotiate every single little detail, and it just…” He grimaced. “Anyway,” he continued, “I’m so glad that we’re here now, and if there’s anything at all that we can do to help ease this transition, please let me know. After all, we’ll all be working next to each other now.”
Kōtarō blinked; he’d been hanging on every word out of this beautiful man’s mouth. His voice was so smooth, so even—he could listen to him talk for hours!
“We sure will!” Hinata chirped from his seat behind the counter. “And I’m Hinata Shōyō, by the way! I’m glad to meet you! I’m the piercer!”
“And I’m Kuroo Tetsurō,” Kuroo added, that smirk back on his face. “I own the shop with this guy here.” He hooked a thumb at Kōtarō, who yelped, but the man turned his gaze back to Kōtarō, his eyes soft and reassuring behind his glasses.
Kōtarō gulped. This was his chance. His big chance. His big…
“Bo—Bokuto Kōtarō,” Kōtarō said, extending his hand. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
The man’s face broke out into a tiny smile, but one that seemed to illuminate the heavens themselves (from Kōtarō’s perspective, anyway!). “Akaashi Keiji. I co-own the shop as well,” the man began, holding out his hand to take Kōtarō’s in a firm handshake. “It’s nice to—”
How Akaashi finished that sentence, Kōtarō would never know. Because as soon as they touched, he was hit with a wave of nausea, so intense he thought he might vomit right there, followed by a swirling sensation that forced his eyes closed as he tried to get his bearings, even as he clung more tightly to Akaashi.
Then, shooting through his mind, across his eyelids, there were a series of visions that make Kōtarō gasp and hold his breath:
Kōtarō, dressed in full armor, brandishing a sword, standing in front of Akaashi, who wore delicate clothing and a small, studded crown.
Kōtarō, laying in a field of hay, Akaashi beside him, perched up on one elbow, gazing down at him with so much love in those beautiful ocean eyes.
Akaashi, eyes heated, painting Kōtarō, who wore nothing more than a loincloth.
Kōtarō, and Akaashi, kissing, open-mouthed and desperate, Kōtarō’s samurai sword banging against his side as Akaashi undid his red hakama.
Akaashi, and Kōtarō, laying in a bed together, Akaashi carding his fingers through Kōtarō’s hair, Kōtarō tracing the seam of Akaashi’s lips with his thumb, the window casting a soft glow as moonlight streamed in.
Kōtarō, calling Akaashi’s name, as Akaashi tossed him…was it a volleyball?
Akaashi… Kōtarō.
Kōtarō… Akaashi.
The images swirled and swayed and rocked Kōtarō to the point where he thought it might never end. But then, as suddenly as they began, they stopped, whooshing back into the depths of Kōtarō’s subconscious, so fast he nearly threw up yet again.
When the world stopped spinning, he opened his eyes. Akaashi was still there, still gripping his hand, his eyes wide at the visions he’d also just apparently had.
Oh.
OH.
The realization hit Kōtarō, and he squeezed Akaashi’s hand so hard, Akaashi winced. But Kōtarō scarcely noticed.
Because…
His soulmate.
He’d found his soulmate.
HE FOUND HIS SOULMATE!
He blinked once, twice, and saw Akaashi still staring at him, mouth open, eyes wide and confused.
Did he see?
Did he know?
“A—Akaashi?” Kōtarō asked, his voice hesitant and quiet.
Akaashi inhaled. “Bo—Bokuto-san,” he replied, still gripping Kōtarō’s hand tightly. “Bokuto-san,” he repeated, “I think that…”
But just then, a tickle hit Kōtarō’s nose hard, and he scrunched it up, then let out a massive, disgusting sneeze: all over his hand, and—ohhhhh, what the fuck!—all over Akaashi’s.
They froze. Kōtarō’s mouth dropped open, and he sneezed again. “Akaashi,” he started, “I’m so—”
“Ahh.” Akaashi started to wipe his hand on his pants, but that wouldn’t do at all!
“Here!” Kōtarō shouted; he leapt across the room, grabbed a clean towel from his station, and raced back to Akaashi, who was standing there, looking dazedly at his hand. He thrust the towel at Akaashi, who took it…
And Kōtarō was besieged again by a battery of images and sounds:
Akaashi screaming his name as Kōtarō jumped in front of him, katana raised for battle.
Akaashi calling for him as he sent a volleyball flying into the air.
Akaashi whispering his name as Kōtarō laid him down, gently, on a soft and billowing futon.
Akaashi saying…Akaashi saying…
“Bokuto-san?” Kōtarō blinked, and the world shifted back into focus, Akaashi peering at him with concern. He’d let go of Kōtarō’s hand and was wiping at his own with the towel. Kōtarō raised his hand to rub at his face; his nose itched, and:
“Ah-choo!” he sneezed.
“Bo?” Kuroo said.
“Bokuto-san?” Hinata said.
“Bo—Bokuto—” Akaashi said. He reached for Kōtarō; their hands clasped, and the world jerked once more, but before Kōtarō could get any more glimpses of their past life—their past lives…
AH-CHOO!
AHHH-CHOOOO!
AHHH—
And, yup, he sneezed all over Akaashi’s hand, yet again.
Shit.
“Uh, well,” Akaashi said awkwardly, “it was—nice to meet you all.” He pulled out of Kōtarō’s grip and wiped his hand on the towel, which he went to place on the counter, seemed to think better of it, but then sighed and did so anyway. “I need to go see to opening the shop. I’m sure that we’ll all meet again soon, yes?”
“Absolutely, Akaashi!” Kuroo called, but Akaashi was already opening the door and rushing out, Kōtarō still in the exact same spot, his hand now hanging limply at his side.
What…what had just happened?
Had Kōtarō met his soulmate and…
“What the fuck, Bo?” Kuroo said as Kōtarō groaned and jumped back over the counter. He dropped into a crouched position and rested his head on the cool glass.
“Bo—Bokuto-san?” Hinata asked tentatively. “Are you okay?”
“What was that all about, Bo?” Kuroo demanded. “You just sneezed all over our new neighbor!”
“I know,” Kōtarō whined.
“Twice!” Kuroo pointed out.
“I know!” Kōtarō knew this. Why the fuck was Kuroo continuing to bring it up?
“Why would you do something like that?” Kuroo shot back. “What happened there?”
Kōtarō beat his head softly against the glass once, twice, then slowly pushed himself to standing. Hinata and Kuroo were both staring at him: Hinata’s eyes were wide with surprise, while Kuroo’s were narrowed in frustration.
“Kō?” Kuroo’s voice was softer. “What did happen?”
Kōtarō sighed, rested his elbows on the glass counter, and sank his head into them. “Tetsu,” he said, his voice ragged, “I think I just met my soulmate…”
Kōtarō sniffled, and wiped at his eyes, which were still itchy and tearing.
“And I think I’m allergic to him.”