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It’s an impulse decision, really, when Sigma passes by a flower shop on their way to the concert venue.
Their gaze catches on the brightly-colored awning, and they glance over, curious because they can’t recall seeing a shop with such bright colors on this street before. They’re expecting a café, or maybe a toy store, but find a brilliant display of flowers instead. It’s beautiful, but they don’t really have time to stop in and look around today, because they’re heading to watch Atsushi’s band perform and they can’t afford to be late, so they continue on their way—
and stop after taking two steps past the shop.
Concert. Flowers.
…Should they buy a bouquet now?
They check the time on their phone. They did leave with plenty of time to spare, and unless they run into some major crisis on the way, they’ll arrive long before they need to be there. So it wouldn’t hurt to just take a peek, even if they decide not to but anything.
They backtrack, heading into the shop before they fully realize they’ve made the decision to do so.
Regret fills them immediately, before the door has even swung shut behind them—first of all, because what are they doing thinking about buying flowers for Atsushi? He may be the only member of his band still oblivious to their feelings, but they can’t expect him to accept a gift such as this without raising an eyebrow, and Sigma can’t very well confess to him in the aftermath of a concert, when he’ll be surrounded by friends and other fans!
But the second, and far worse, reason for their regret is the familiar face they find standing behind the counter.
“Sigma-chan!!!” Nikolai exclaims, visible eye lighting up at the sight of them. He claps his hands together as he leans over the counter, braid swaying with the force of his movements. “What brings you here on this terrible day!”
“Since when do you work here?” they grumble. They’d turn and leave, except Nikolai would just follow them and pester them about why they came into a flower shop the entire way to the concert, and once they arrived, he’d know exactly what Sigma’s thought process was before coming in here. They’re not sure they can feed him a believable lie, but anything is better than leading him straight to Atsushi so he can decide to confess on their behalf because he thought it’d be funny.
“Since last week!” Nikolai does a twirl. “I got fired from the café!! Isn’t that so wonderful!”
“Um.” Sigma looks around as the various flowers on display, failing to find any successful out to this conversation or inspiration for an excuse as to why they’re here that does not have to do with Atsushi. “No? I thought you liked working there?”
“I liked working with Dazai,” Nikolai corrects. Which begs the question of how Nikolai got himself fired when Dazai has somehow managed to hold down a job there for two years, but Sigma decides they don’t care enough to investigate that right now.
They shake their head. “Never mind. I’m leaving—”
“NOOOO!!!” Nikolai exclaims, launching himself over the counter and darting across the shop to grab hold of Sigma before they can take more than a step back towards the door. He latches his arms around them, effectively pinning them in place because he’s too heavy to drag with them and too strong to push off. “You have to tell me why you’re here! I’ll make you the bestest bouquet in the whole world, and I’ll even let you use my employee discount! I’ll give you a senior discount too just for fun. Please let me sell you flowers please please please please ple—”
“Fine,” Sigma relents, if only to stop Nikolai’s rambling and get him off of them. “Whatever. Just make it fast, alright?”
“Oh?” Nikolai releases them, stepping back to wiggle his eyebrows. “Got somewhere you need to be? Is there a pretty boy you’re looking to woo?” He gasps, hands coming up to cover his mouth in an overexaggerated gesture. “Wait! I know! Dazai-kun said Atsushi-kun’s band is performing tonight~”
Well, shit. There goes Sigma’s chance at lying.
They try anyway, with a weak, “That’s not—”
But Nikolai cuts them off immediately. “He said you were going. Are you telling me you’re not? You’re not going to support our dear Atsushi-kun? You’re going to meet up with some other handsome stranger and give them flowers, leaving Atsushi-kun stranded and alone and completely flower-less? Sigma-chan!” He presses the back of his hand to his forehead. “You’re so cruel!”
“I’m just— It’s not—” they trip over their words, failing to come up with any explanation that denies their feelings. Nikolai already knows the truth anyway, so there’s really no point in attempting to convince him otherwise. Their best bet is probably to just give up and let Nikolai make them a bouquet for Atsushi, and either ditch the flowers halfway to the venue or pray Atsushi won’t read too deeply into it.
It isn’t uncommon to give a friend flowers after a performance of some sort. Of course, Sigma is only planning to buy flowers for Atsushi, despite being friends with the other band members as well, but— That’s just because they don’t have the money to buy flowers for everyone! And they’re closest with Atsushi! They were friends with him before the others, and only even met the others because of Atsushi, so—
They’re just making excuses.
Their shoulders slump. “Okay, fine, whatever. I was thinking I might give Atsushi flowers after the show tonight,” they admit. “But I really don’t have a lot of time—”
“Say less!” Nikolai pivots, braid whirling out and smacking Sigma in the face. They hardly even bat an eye at it, given how common of an occurrence it is, though they can feel their annoyance level rising. “I’ll put together the purrrr-fect bouquet!” He giggles to himself about the stupid pun, skipping away to begin arranging flowers for Sigma. They don’t even want to know what he’s about to do, but they’re in too deep to back out now.
All they can do is watch him flit around the shop, selecting various flowers and humming to himself as he works. They physically grimace when they see him go for the red roses, because even Atsushi will know what those symbolize, but Nikolai pays them no mind at all.
Once he’s gathered everything, he returns to the counter to arrange them. It’s sort of mesmerizing to watch, as loath as Sigma is to admit it—Nikolai’s fingers seem to dance around the stems as he positions each flower to his liking. He does honestly seem better suited for this job than the café he’d been at previously. Although, Sigma is still irritated at the fact that they happened to run into him, of all people, the one time they dared to make an impulsive decision.
If this is the universe trying to teach them a lesson about spontaneity, they’ve received it loud and clear.
After several minutes, which seem to drag into an eternity as Sigma anxiously awaits the end result of Nikolai’s craftsmanship, he wraps the bouquet and holds it up with a delighted, “Ta-da!! Don’t you just love it?”
“Uhh…” Sigma tilts their head, eyeing the flowers, unsure if they want to know the meanings behind them or if they’d be better off not asking so they can claim ignorance. “Sure.”
Nikolai frowns. “You don’t sound very enthusiastic. I made this oh so specially for you, you know! I’d never be this kind and doting to anyone else~”
“It looks nice,” Sigma offers, because it does. But they’d been hoping for an arrangement that was colored a bit differently. The red and white are really not giving off the vibe of a platonic friendship gift. Why couldn’t Nikolai have gone with, like, a purple color scheme?
“Doesn’t it!” Nikolai beams. “The red roses are, of course, representative of the cage that is passionate and everlasting love. The white roses symbolize respect, because I know my dear Sigma-chan would never ever do a thing to hurt the object of their affections. Unlike me!” He says that last bit like it’s an accomplishment of some sort. Personally, Sigma thinks he needs to go to therapy, but they know better than to get into that argument right now. “And the red tulips are the confession,” he finishes. “Isn’t it so darling? Oh, Atsushi-kun will simply adore it!”
Sigma looks over the bouquet again. “Right,” they agree hesitantly. Maybe Atsushi will just accept it with a simple thanks and not look into the flower meanings. Hopefully he doesn’t already know them. Hopefully his friends don’t fill him in. Or, if they do, he just chooses to ignore it under the assumption that Sigma had no idea about the meaning of the flowers and just picked a random bouquet they thought looked nice.
(They might be doomed.)
Nikolai hands the flowers over. “Here you go! On the house!”
“Are you allowed to do that?”
“Nope!” Nikolai shoves them into Sigma’s hands. “But my darlingest dearest most beloved friend in the whole wide world is about to confess to their crush! How could I possibly be expected to charge you for that? It’s as good as robbery!”
“It’s definitely not—”
“What time do you have to be there, anyway?” Nikolai asks, voice dripping with faux innocence. “You’d better hurry if you don’t want to be late…”
Sigma scrambles for their phone, cradling the flowers in one hand, and finds that Nikolai is, unfortunately, right—they don’t have time to stand around and argue with him over whether or not they’re allowed to pay for the flowers. So they leave him with a dirty glare, which he responds to by fluttering his eyelashes and waving them out of the shop.
Sigma debates throwing the flowers away.
They didn’t even pay for them, so it wouldn’t be a loss. Of course, they won’t have anything to give Atsushi after the concert, but they don’t need to gift him something. He’s told them time and time again that Sigma’s presence at the band’s shows means a lot to him, and it’s not like Sigma has a habit of bringing him congratulatory presents after every performance.
But.
Now that the idea is in their mind, they just can’t shake it. Atsushi deserves flowers after his show, and Sigma has a bouquet—which they’d gotten with the intention of giving to Atsushi, even if the end result wasn’t quite what they imagined. It would be a waste to simply toss them. And they wouldn’t get to see Atsushi’s reaction to receiving them. He’s always so elated whenever anyone gives him anything, his entire face lighting up as he thanks them graciously. Sigma loves to see him smiling like that—joyous and carefree and knowing that he has people who care about him.
Sigma wants to make sure Atsushi knows they care about him.
So, they carry the flowers all the way to the concert venue, despite the voice in the back of their mind saying to give up and that Atsushi is a lost cause for someone like them. They’re getting better at deciphering which thoughts are nothing more than an anxiety spiral, and while they can’t make those go away completely, they can at least try to cover them up with something nicer.
Like the thought of Atsushi on stage, performing with his band, catching Sigma’s eye in the crowd and grinning when he does so.
They arrive shortly after the doors open and make their way to their seat. It’s a small venue, with a cozy feeling, and Atsushi always makes sure Sigma gets a ticket near the front. They’ll just have to hope that tonight, he doesn’t look too closely at them, or else the flowers won’t come as a surprise afterwards.
The concert is amazing, but Atsushi’s band always is. Sigma may be a bit biased, but they really do create such a fun atmosphere with their music that it’s like all of Sigma’s problems seem to melt away for as long as they’re performing. They could watch Atsushi perform live a thousand times, and they doubt they’d ever get bored—each concert is special in its own right, and no song can ever be sung the same twice.
Plus, admittedly, Sigma just likes watching Atsushi on stage.
He looks at home, seated behind the drumset, keeping rhythm and providing the beat for the others. Even when he isn’t smiling, too busy focusing on playing to worry about the expression on his face, Sigma can tell he’s having a good time. He’d doing something he enjoys, with people he cares about, and Sigma gets the privilege to see him in his element time and time again.
And he never looks any less beautiful.
After the show ends, Sigma retrieves the bouquet and heads backstage to meet up with the band members. Lucy finds them first, happily pulling them past security to where Atsushi, Jun’ichirou, and Naomi are. She didn’t say anything about the flowers, but she did raise her eyebrows when she first saw them. Sigma was prepared for teasing, and they’re not sure if the silence is better or worse.
“Sigma-san!” Atsushi calls, breaking them from their thoughts. He bounds up to them, smiling widely, and Sigma’s breath catches in their throat at the sight. His sleeves are rolled up, showing off his forearms, and sweat is still beading on his face from the exertion of the concert, but he looks energetic as ever. “I’m so glad you could make it!”
“The show was incredible,” they say. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” And then, before they can overthink or talk themselves out of it, they hold out the flowers to Atsushi. “You, um. You were really great tonight. Not that you aren’t usually! Because you’re always really good! But, I just— I thought it might be nice to. You know. Give you something. And flowers seemed fitting. So.”
“O-oh!” Atsushi’s eyes go wide. He reaches for the bouquet slowly, taking it into his hands as if he’s afraid it may evaporate. “Wow. These are really pretty. Thanks!”
Sigma waits a beat. Atsushi doesn’t say anything about the specific flowers, or ask why Sigma brought them, or give any indication that he might interpret the gift as the confession Nikolai clearly intended for it to be.
“You’re welcome!” Sigma replies, after a pause just long enough to start feeling awkward.
They stare at one another for a moment longer, and Sigma wants to say something—anything—but their thoughts are all jumbled and they’re not sure their voice would work even if they did know what to say. Should they give Atsushi a hint about the true meaning of the flowers? Should they compliment him again? Should they ask if they can talk somewhere privately?
Should they even be entertaining the idea of confessing aloud at all?
“I—” Atsushi starts, only for Lucy to come barreling in, hooking her arm with Atsushi’s and reminding him they need to get cleaned up before they’re kicked out of the venue.
“Right!” He shakes his head. “I’ll see you afterwards, Sigma-san?”
“Of course,” Sigma agrees, everything else left unsaid dying on their tongue as Lucy drags Atsushi away.
A half hour later, Atsushi finds Sigma waiting on a bench outside.
“Um,” he says, twisting his fingers together. “Can we talk?”
Sigma nods, gesturing to the empty half of the bench. Atsushi sits down, and immediately, his leg begins bouncing up and down. He doesn’t have the flowers with him, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He doesn’t have his bag with him either; it’s likely he left both with all of their band gear so he wouldn’t have to lug them around while searching for Sigma.
“Is something wrong?” Sigma tries, heart pounding frantically in their chest despite their best efforts to calm their nerves.
Atsushi hesitates. “Well, it’s just— Um, Naomi-chan mentioned what red tulips are usually used for.” He glances up, meeting Sigma’s eyes for only a split second, before his gaze drops back to his hands. “I told her you probably didn’t know, but she insisted you’d definitely know about something like that, and… I don’t know. Sorry, it’s dumb. You don’t have to answer.”
It takes everything in Sigma to force out their next words. “I…did know what they meant,” they admit. “At least, as of a few hours ago. Nikolai put the bouquet together for me.”
“Oh!” Atsushi replies, voice sounding oddly strained. “So it was just— Oh, okay. I understand.”
Sigma looks over at him. Shoulders hunched, fingers bunching up the fabric of his pants, the smile Sigma loves so much nowhere to be seen. Before they can ask what’s bothering Atsushi so much, he whispers:
“You didn’t really mean it.”
“Did you want me to?” Sigma blurts out, without thinking. Immediately, they wish they could take it back, but it’s too late. The words hang heavy between them as Atsushi’s head swivels up, his gaze meeting Sigma’s, expression unreadable.
“What?” he asks.
“I mean—” Sigma falters. “I didn’t— I wasn’t planning to buy you confession flowers. I just wanted something to say, like, ‘Good job! You did great tonight!’ You know? But Nikolai knows how I feel about you, so,” they gesture vaguely. “He made a confession bouquet instead.”
Atsushi’s eyes grow impossibly wide. “And…how do you feel about me?”
“The flowers said it.”
“But I want to hear it from you.”
Sigma’s face warms, but they don’t look away. “I think you’re amazing,” they say. “I admire your courage and resilience, and I feel honored that you call me your friend. I love watching you perform, because you’re always so happy when you’re on stage, and it’s a breathtaking sight to behold. I really enjoy spending time with you, and… I’m not sure I’d have been brave enough to do it without Nikolai’s push, but I’d give you those roses and tulips after every show, if I had the means.”
Atsushi’s voice wavers, “You really mean that?”
“I do.”
He surges forward then, closing the distance between them and pressing his lips against Sigma’s. It’s a quick, clumsy kiss, and it leaves Sigma longing for more. They reach out for Atsushi on instinct, catching the collar of his shirt in their hand and stopping him from backing too far away.
“Wh—?” he starts.
Sigma cuts him off with another kiss, sealing their lips together once more. They feel Atsushi smile against them, and somehow, getting to taste that grin is even better than simply basking in its light.
(Maybe impulsivity isn’t so bad after all.)