Chapter Text
Daichi took comfort in flowers. He admired the gentle strength of some, the fragility of others. He loved how they grabbed attention, vibrant colors and delicate patterns. Flowers make people happy. They mend relationships and spark new ones. Giving them is a simple gesture, but also a powerful one.
Daichi grew up around flowers. His childhood was punctuated by blossoms. Tiger lillies, speckled and sunburst orange after big victories. Scarlet carnations after graduations. His grandmother celebrated everything with a bouquet. “Flowers have a very specific meaning.” She would say. “They have a language just like you and me.” Her shop was her pride and joy, a florist through and through. Daichi always admired that. Her dedication and devotion.
He hoped to run the shop the same way.
He made a few changes once the shop was truly his, updating appliances and hiring part time help. New coolers replaced the old, while the old displays stayed, putting his personality into the florist’s shop while still leaving his grandmother’s touches and old world charm. He loved every inch of the shop with it’s tidy and charming storefront and messy work room with soil strewn floor.
Daichi blinked the sleep out of his eyes as he trudged downstairs and unlocked the door to the shop. In tandem with inheriting the shop, Daichi also inherited the apartment above it, so work was never far away. He sipped at his mug of coffee as he turned the “Sorry, we’re closed” sign to “Come in! We’re open”
He manned the morning shift by himself, assisting the few early customers that came. An elderly man who came in every morning to buy his wife a bouquet, a frazzled looking businesswoman, stopping in hurriedly and asking for his best bouquet of congratulatory flowers, a wedding planner, ordering ten bouquets and fifteen table arrangements on short notice, apologizing profusely while consoling a frantic bride over the phone.
Business slowed as time went on, the stream of people crowding the sidewalks thinning. This time of day was peaceful. Few people came in, so Daichi could make sure that all his blossoms were happy and content, the way they should be.
His grandmother used to tell him that flowers needed to be talked to like people did. Although he realized now that it was silly, he talked to them everyday. He greeted the potted tulips, spritzing them with water and diluted fertilizer, telling them about his night. He told them about the conversation he had with his friends the other day, how they wanted to start setting him up on blind dates because according to them he “didn’t go out enough.” He moved the hanging baskets into the sunlight, assuring them that he was perfectly fine, how he wasn’t lonely. He went out with his friends, he ran a business. He didn’t want a relationship. He assured the peonies that he wasn’t lying, but he couldn’t quite convince himself.
It wasn’t until he was halfway finished with taking inventory of the coolers that the bell on the front door chimed again. It appeared that he had a customer.
He whirled around to greet his new customer. “Welcome to Karasuno Florists, how can I… help... you...” His voice dropped off, stunned by his new customer.
He was of average height, an inch or two shorter than Daichi and looked to be about the same age. Under a black beanie his hair was a startling almost-white blonde that shone in the bright sunlight that poured through the window. He had big fawn eyes, warm and brown, contradicting the ruggedness of the black studs in his ears. But more striking than any of that were the vivid lines and colors running up and down his arms. Art depicting nature; a weeping willow with its cascading, pale green foliage, fallen maple leaves in orange and red tones and an array of different flowers in both black and white and saturated color. Daichi forgot how to speak.
He was nearly sure that he was seeing some kind of punk-rock angel.
“Can I take pictures in here?” The man asked, his voice soothing. He smiled softly, clutching a small yellow camera in his hand, the kind that printed pictures instantly.
“Oh- Yeah, absolutely.” Daichi answered, praying to whatever god that was listening that his voice wouldn’t crack. The man smiled again in response, thanking him. He almost skipped across the store over to the display of daffodils in a way that was incredibly endearing.
He crouched down and snapped a picture of a white and orange bloom before popping back up and shaking out the printed photograph, developing it. He smiled softly at his picture and pocketed it, bounding over to another display.
Daichi forced himself to stop staring and being creepy, going back to counting white carnations. He was almost successful in distracting himself when the man spoke again.
“I’m Sugawara Koushi by the way, but most people just call me Suga.” He said, looking at Daichi over his shoulder. “I can’t believe I work five minutes away and I’m only just discovering this place! It’s absolutely charming.”
“It was my grandmother’s.” Daichi answered. “She did most of the work.” Suga smiled. “I’m Sawamura Daichi.”
Suga snapped a picture of a pre-made bouquet of Baby’s Breath and red roses. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He looked at the roses with a soft smile, bending to pick a fallen petal off the ground. He studied it carefully before pocketing that too, pressing it alongside his pictures.
He bounded across the store again, studying blossoms of every color. He snapped pictures of everything and Daichi watched as he shook each print-out, watching the way the colors painting his arm blurred and mixed.
“I like your tattoos.” Daichi blurted, resisting the urge to slap himself.
Suga smiled brightly, lighting up his whole face. “Me too! Some people like to decorate their houses, I like to decorate my arms”. He gushed, shifting his arm and giving Daichi a clear view of the artwork. “I actually drew all of these.”
Daichi’s eyes widened. “That’s incredible, you’re an amazing artist!”
“Well I should be, it’s my trade. I’m a tattoo artist at the shop around the corner.”
“Well that explains it.” Daichi smiled. “They really are beautiful.”
Suga honest to god blushed, his pale face turning pink. “Well um, I should be getting to work now.” He said, fidgeting with his earring. “But first I-” He bounded over to the pre-made bouquets. “What kind of flower says nice to meet you?”
“Daisies.” Daichi answered quickly. He knew flower-language like the back of his hand after studying it through much of his youth.
Suga selected a bouquet off the display. “I’ll be buying this.”
Daichi rung him up, trying to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat when their hands brushed as he handed the other man his change.
Once the flowers were paid for Suga handed them back to Daichi. “These are for you . For taking up your time and also because it was in fact very nice to meet you.”
“Oh.” Now Daichi could not ignore the fast pace of his pulse. “No- You didn’t have to. I really liked talking to you.”
“Just take them Sawamura.”
“Daichi.” He had no idea what he was doing. “Call me Daichi.”
Suga smiled. “Take the flowers Daichi. And don’t put them back on display. Bring them back home so you can remember today whenever you see them.”
Daichi reached into the cooler and grabbed a red and white flower. “Well then, take this. That way you can remember to come back.” Daichi could not believe what he was saying.
“What kind of flower is it?” Suga asked.
“A Gloxinia.”
“What does it mean?”
Daichi smiled. “That’s a secret.”
“Well then I guess I have to come back to find out what it means.” He laughed. “Until next time. Bye Daichi.”
“Bye.”
The bell chimed as Suga left, leaving Daichi feeling sort of lonely. He tried to resume administrative work, toying with a button on the cash register. He sighed.
“God I’m so gay.” He said out loud to himself, burying his still-blushing face in his hands.