Work Text:
Kei stomped up the stairs to his apartment, grumbling to himself about everything wrong in the world. Which, at the moment, was a lot. Halfway through a step, he paused, an itchy feeling in his throat. He knew it was coming, yet he couldn’t do much about it. He sneezed. Once, twice, three times. He groaned, holding his hand against his forehead to try to help relieve his insane sinus pressure.
Where he lived never used to be a problem with his allergies. Sure, he had some small issues with living in the apartment above a flower shop, but it was a nice place and relatively cheap. It wasn’t a bad option. Unfortunately, sometime in the last two months or so, the flower shop got a new flower and began to sell bouquets that Kei was allergic to. He had no idea what flower it was.
What he did know, however, was that he hated that flower.
The guy who owned the flower shop, Tadashi something or another, seemed nice enough. Kei assumed that if he asked the guy to stop selling the flower then he probably would. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that he didn’t know what flower it was. What was he supposed to tell the flower shop owner if he didn’t know what type of flower it was? He wasn’t about to go downstairs and sniff every flower, seeing which ones made him sneeze and which ones didn’t.
Kei sneezed again, almost missing the next step, before catching himself on the staircase railing. He didn’t know what he would do if he fell down the stairs and broke every bone in his body because of a stupid flower. Probably die of frustration and embarrassment. His tombstone would probably read I Died Because I Was Allergic to a Flower.
When Kei finally got to his apartment door without any catastrophes, he frowned, looking down at his feet. A bouquet. Of flowers. With a note attached.
Great.
He sneezed a couple more times, before he finally bent down and picked the note out of the arrangement of flowers. The handwriting was a weird mix of chicken scratch and fancy, flowing cursive. Kei didn’t know handwriting like that existed. It wasn’t addressed to him, either, or at least, not directly.
Dear person living above my flower shop,
I know you don’t really know me, and I don’t know you, but you haven’t been looking very well lately. I hope you’re okay! Please accept this bouquet of flowers as a gift to feel better. Flowers always make me feel better, so hopefully they do the same for you!
This bouquet is a group of different colored Carnations, which in general mean health and energy. Flower language is probably boring to you, but I thought I should explain what these mean, so you know I’m not a completely incapable flower shop owner! Not that you really care … um! Sorry, I’m rambling. I do that a lot.
Anyways, feel better!
Tadashi
Kei stared at the letter, feeling some kind of emotion, he just wasn’t sure which. Usually, people didn’t bother talking to him after the first time, or after being glared at. Yet, this flower shop owner, the complete fool, took one look at Kei’s angry face and decided to be nice instead. Kei didn’t know how to feel about this.
Stuffing the letter into his pocket, he decided to ignore it. That’s what he did best. Ignore emotions. He unlocked his door and went inside, carefully placing the bouquet of flowers on his kitchen counter. Despite what people thought about him, he wasn’t a complete asshole. Well, maybe he was, but he wasn’t as cruel to throw the bouquet away. After all, he had to experiment on it to find out if any of the flowers was the one he was allergic to.
That’s why he kept it.
Scientific reasons.
Of course.
It wasn’t until later that week, at precisely 2:37am one night, that Kei knew he had to come up with a different plan. He had been lying in bed, all night, staring at the ceiling. His head was full of snot and if he sat up too quickly, he got dizzy. He wasted an entire box of tissues sneezing. His nose was noticeably red and his nostrils were stuffy, unable to breathe.
During the week, he had slept with a different flower from the bouquet next to him to see if he had any reaction. None at all. Of course, only the night after he threw out the wilting flowers, did he have a reaction. Someone had probably requested the evil flower he was allergic to.
Kei hated it. He hated sneezing, hated that his ass was being kicked by a single flower. At 2:38am, he decided he has had enough of the sneezing. The next morning, bags under his eyes, he came up with a plan.
Step 1: Buy bouquets until he figures out which flower he’s allergic to
Step 2: ???
Step 3: Profit
Kei blamed Kuroo for the three steps. His “friend” had been texting him his plan to life for weeks now. It always included a step with question marks only. He had no idea where Kuroo came up with it, but he had suspected it was something stupid. Everything with, or related to Kuroo was stupid. Except for maybe Kenma. That was it.
Everything else, though? Dumb.
It didn’t really help that he was functioning on three hours of sleep. Kuroo usually wrangled Kei into doing stuff when he was tired or running on low amounts of sleep. So, yes, this was still blamed on Kuroo.
The next day, after Kei had gotten enough sleep, he put his plan into motion. He figured he could send all the bouquets to Kuroo after he checked them for allergies. Feeling thoroughly embarrassed but determined, he entered the flower shop with his head held high. For the sake of his experiment, he figured he had to ask a few questions. Kei walked up to the counter and waited patiently for Tadashi to turn around.
After a few moments of annoying humming from the shop owner, Kei cleared his throat. Tadashi jumped, startled, and finally turned around. Kei couldn’t stop himself from thinking that he was kind of cute, up close. Tadashi’s eyes widened as he recognized the person in front of him, and smiled brightly. “Hi! You live above me, right? How can I help you today?”
“Um, yes. Hi. I had a few questions, actually…” Kei trailed off awkwardly. Tadashi’s smile was throwing him off. It was like he was actually happy to see Kei, and it was bizarre. The shop owner nodded, signalling him to continue. “The displays around the store, do they change often?”
“No, not really. I put new flowers out on the counter for a couple of weeks, and then put it with the other displays throughout the store. But otherwise, the bouquets and flowers stay the same and in the same spot.”
“So … for example, if I wanted to buy every bouquet for someone over a period of time, without repeating, I could do that? Just by moving to the different spots in the store?” Kei asked, without really thinking how it sounded.
Tadashi had looked surprised, and if Kei hadn’t known better, he would have thought he saw disappointment. But then he smiled again, and it was gone. “Exactly! You could do that, if you wanted to.”
“Great.”
Flower Log, Week 0
Scientific Method:
Every week, I will buy a new bouquet from the flower shop, recording what the bouquet’s name was. I will keep the bouquet for 24 hours, checking if I am allergic to it. I will also write down any observations throughout the experimentation period. If I am not allergic, I will send the bouquet to friends and coworkers. Once I narrow the allergens down to a single bouquet, I will start requesting single flowers from the bouquet.
*
Flower Log, Week 1
Bouquet name: Floral Gables
Observations:
10:12am -- I sneezed once when I first bought it. Though, that might have been because I was in the flower shop.
4:31pm -- I have not sneezed since the flower shop. No runny nose or itchy eyes.
9:42am -- Nothing. Looks like this bouquet isn’t what I’m looking for.
*
Flower Log, Week 2
Bouquet name: Fragrant Dreams
Observations:
11:15am -- Nothing yet.
5:03pm -- Still nothing.
10:50am -- Damn it.
*
Flower Log, Week 3
Bouquet name: Snow Plum
Observations:
9:46am -- Tadashi keeps smiling at me, like he knows something. Nothing allergy-related.
8:30pm -- I hate this experiment. I hate it.
9:15am -- I still hate it. I hate flowers.
Kei glanced around the store, heading towards the corner of the store he hadn’t bought from yet. He picked up a pretty bouquet with shades of pink and red flowers. It looked like a Valentine’s Day bouquet. He read the tag: Garden of Love.
Well, that explained it.
He brought the franky unnecessarily big bouquet to the front of the store, putting it on the counter. The lovey-dovey bouquet would be for his fourth trial. Tadashi smiled at him again, eyeing the bouquet, while Kei fumbled for his wallet. “This is one of my favorite bouquets. Who’s the lucky girl?”
“What?” Kei asked, glancing up slowly, the question taking its sweet time to go through his mind. He stared at Tadashi, confused. Then it hit him.
Oh.
Oh.
Kei immediately turned red, he knew it without looking. His face was incredibly warm. Tadashi thought that Kei was buying the bouquets for a girlfriend. How utterly wrong he was. If only he knew.
It was much more embarrassing buying flowers for an experiment than for a girlfriend, Kei decided. He looked away from Tadashi, unable to bring himself to tell the truth. Instead, he said, “No one.”
Tadashi didn’t respond.
Kei wondered why he noticed.
Flower Log, Week 5
Bouquet name: Pops of Orange
Observations:
12:34pm -- No allergy-related observations yet, but Tadashi looks sadder and sadder the more bouquets I buy.
5:54pm -- I don’t understand. I don’t like it.
11:58am -- No sneezing or any irritation.
*
Flower Log, Week 6
Bouquet name: Pick Wildflowers
Observations:
9:24am -- These smell good.
6:12pm -- I realized I’m running out of people to send bouquets.
8:59am -- I don’t want to send Kuroo or Bokuto multiple bouquets. They already laughed at me once.
*
Flower Log, Week 7
Bouquet name: Peach and Pink Roses
Observations:
8:18am -- Tadashi has stopped smiling.
4:45pm -- I decided I hate these flowers.
7:42am -- No allergic reaction. I’m going to throw this bouquet away.
“Good morning,” Kei called to Tadashi as he entered the store. The shopkeeper looked up and smiled politely back at him. Kei was just about to ask Tadashi for his opinion on what bouquet he should buy next, when he sneezed. He spun around, glaring at the display closest to him. He snatched the bouquet, an unflattering array of bright, obnoxious colors. Stomping over to the counter, he nearly slammed the bouquet, but luckily, his self-control was with him that day. “I want this one.”
Tadashi raised an eyebrow, confused by the contradicting emotions. He nodded, and checked the name and price of the bouquet. “Oh, tell your girlfriend I said Happy Birthday!”
“Huh?”
“The bouquet. It’s named ‘Brilliant Birthday Orchids.’ Didn’t you see it?” Tadashi explained, turning the bouquet and showing Kei the name tag. He smiled bitterly, like he had remembered something unpleasant. “Orchids, in flower language, mean beauty and luxury. I just thought you should know that.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Kei said quickly, paying him and leaving as fast as he could. He had a feeling about this particular bouquet. It had to be this one, the one that caused all of his troubles. He almost ran up the stairs to his apartment, but told himself to calm down.
Time would tell.
Flower Log, Week 8
Bouquet name: Brilliant Birthday Orchids
Observations:
It’s this fucking bouquet, or the flowers in it, I don’t know, but it’s this one. This one is the bane of my existence, I can’t believe I finally found it. I FOUND IT.
I looked the bouquet up online and the flowers included in it are: blue dendrobiums, yellow, red, and orange mokaras. I have split the flowers up over the next few days to see which one I am allergic to most.
*
Flower Log, Week 9
It’s the red mokaras.
I went back to the floral shop and bought a bouquet made of only the red mokaras. Tadashi gave me a weird look, but I really didn’t give a shit. I’ll have to apologize to him, at some point. I’ve been a nuisance, after all.
*
Flower Log, Week 10
I told Tadashi about my allergies to the red mokaras. I didn’t tell him how I knew, just that I did. He seemed disappointed, like he wanted to ask something, but he never did. He only nodded and said that he would stop requesting the red mokaras. I wanted to tell him that it was fine, that it wasn’t necessary. But he insisted.
I feel bad, for some reason?
He asked me how my girlfriend is.
I told him we broke up.
He seemed to cheer up after that. I like him better when he’s smiling.
He’s cuter that way.
*
Flower Log, Week 11
I bought a bouquet of purple hyacinths and sent them to Tadashi. On the internet, it said that those flowers meant “I’m sorry.” I hope that’s true. I also included a letter of apology and explained the entire experiment, and how I never had a girlfriend.
If this totally backfires, I’ll blame it on Kuroo. He’s the one who told me to tell Tadashi. He also told me to get my head out of my ass and tell Tadashi that I like him.
What the hell does he know about liking someone?
Kei jumped at the sudden noise of a knock at his door. He scowled, wondering who dared disturb his pity party? Standing up, he went to the door and opened it without bothering to check the peephole.
Tadashi.
He was holding a bouquet. A really, really, ugly bouquet.
“Hi,” Tadashi said, shyly. He picked at his shirt with the hand that wasn’t holding the bouquet. Kei was still stuck on how ugly the bouquet was. He even recognized a dandelion and a pinecone. “Yeah, I know. It’s an ugly bouquet. It’s for you, I made it myself.”
“It’s disgusting. I love it,” Kei replied, taking the bouquet and smelling it. It even smelled weird, an incredibly wrong combination of scents. Kei stepped aside to let Tadashi in. “So, Flower Shop Boy, what do they mean?”
Tadashi blushed, and stuttered for a second, before pointing to the dandelion. “Well, this means loyalty and happiness. The pine means hope. And … well, after reading your letter, the red tulips mean confession.”
“Are you telling me you like me?”
“Um. Yes.”
Kei smiled, despite himself. He’d have to thank Kuroo for making him write that note. Tadashi was smiling nervously, waiting for a response. Kei cleared his throat. “Well, even though you gave me a butt-ugly bouquet, I like you, too.”
Tadashi laughed, his anxiety melting away.
So this was Step 3: Profit.
Kei liked it that way.
“So, what do the other two flowers mean?” Kei asked, appreciating the way Tadashi’s eyes lit up anytime he talked about flowers or their language. He would ask a billion dumb questions if it meant seeing the man in front of him smile like that.
“The yellow lily and green carnation both mean gay.”
Kei choked on air. Tadashi had said it without so much as a blink, but now there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye, like he had been expecting the reaction. There was more to him than met the eye, apparently. Kei would have to explore that, later.
Instead, he just laughed.
Kei decided he didn't completely hate flowers.