Chapter Text
It is almost time to close the shop when a young man hurriedly stops her from twisting the sign signifying the end of their store hours. He pulls the glass door open so abruptly that Megumi loses her footing. She squeaks as she feels herself fall, hands flailing for anything to steady herself; a pair of arms (lithe with a little bit of muscle, but who has time to notice?) support her before she can find herself face flat on the asphalt, and it leaves her a little breathless. Megumi looks up at the young man responsible for her almost accident in the first place, wide amber eyes connecting with cat like icy blues. The first thing that pops into her head is a clear summer sky.
Megumi wonders briefly if she’s simply read too much light novels recently.
“Careful,” he says in a low tone, still attempting to catch his breath. From up close, Megumi can see the beads of sweat roll down the side of his face. She feels like the main character on the first episode of a slice of life romcom. The stranger’s eyes narrow into upturned crescents, and Megumi belatedly realizes she’s been staring at his eyes (they’re so blue, how could they be so blue it’s genetically impossible-) and he’s now breathing out a chuckle --
Megumi scrambles into an upright position, two steps away from this (tall - he’s unbelievably tall. Is he a foreigner?) young man. She feels her face heating up and finds that the setting sun isn’t doing anything to help with the temperature. She starts fidgeting with the hem of her work apron and waits for this (very attractive, now that she gets a good look) stranger to catch his breath and to stop looking at her.
“I’m sorry, are you still open?” he asks, wiping away the sweat from the side of his face with his sleeve. He sends her a look that shoots straight to her heart, complete with a sheepish rub to the back of his neck, ruffling the ends of messy brown hair.
“We-we were just about to close,” Megumi stutters out. The moment the words leave her lips, the brunette’s expression morphs into one of disappointment. This young man and his very blue eyes are doing nothing to calm down her stammering heart. “I’m so sorry!” she doesn’t even know what exactly she’s apologizing for; bad habit, the florist supposes. The apology falls on deaf ears though, as he only leans closer, clasping both hands in a position that looks a little close to begging.
Megumi’s face turns redder than the wisteria by the shop’s door. He’s charming her not five minutes after he’s stopped her from her minutes to freedom, and she can’t seem to find it in herself to complete care (she does, oh she does; very badly).
“It’s an emergency, I’m sorry!” he explains, and his narrow eyes seem to double in size as he looks up at her from his position. “I might not have a place to go if I don’t get this,”
Megumi fidgets worse; her heart feels heavy at the thought of someone going homeless under her watch. She glances at the clock inside the shop: it’s only about seven minutes after five, she argues. The buzz from the pocket of her pants reminds her that she’s keeping Yuki-chan waiting. She opens her mouth to apologize again, but he seems to sense her hesitance from a mile away and clasps her hands in his in an instant. Megumi’s face turns redder than before, and she has to bite her tongue from yelping out and causing a scene.
“Please, it won’t be too long!” the brunette pleads with her, hands gripping hers even tighter. She feels the calluses from his fingers; can sense the soft warmth radiating from his palms. “I’d owe you big time for this, please,”
Megumi’s eyes dart around the street, wide-eyed and afraid that they might be causing a commotion in their quiet little district. Her amber eyes land on the grocer adjacent from their flowershop. Isshiki-san sends her a friendly smile, but the slight shake in his shoulders make it obvious to her that he’s trying to hold back a laugh.
“Uhm-!!” she squeaks out. Megumi’s eyes meets the stranger’s blue ones again, this time he looks a little more hopeful. She hopes Yuki will understand, and it’s not as if Ryouko isn’t already there to help get the party started. Megumi makes a mental note to send an apology text later before she nervously looks behind her shoulder. “Wou-would you like to discuss this inside instead?” Megumi murmurs in a quiet voice. Fumio-san would be furious were she to find out that years of working in their flowershop hasn’t done much to help with the young woman’s nervous habits and lack of a backbone.
The words, however, light up the stranger’s face, and the florist wonders slightly if it’s simply the setting sun that makes his eyes pop brighter.
“Grazie, thank you!” he lets go of her hands and moves quickly behind her. Megumi finds herself a little disoriented by how fast he moves; when she twists to look back at him, he’s already holding out the door for her. She shyly steps inside before she berates herself for being so meek - it seems more than a little silly to her that she’d feel timid upon entering her own flowershop. Still, the bright grin from this foreigner (she’s sure; the accent in his tone isn’t from any dialect she’s ever heard) does nothing calm her nerves.
“Do you have anything specific you need?” Megumi asks politely, trying her best to seamlessly shift into work mode once more. The young man’s grin turns a little shy, and she sees his cheeks flush a little pink.
“I need a bouquet that says ‘I’m sorry.’”
Megumi stops in her tracks and looks at the sheepish young man standing near the doorway. He suddenly stands upright, arms raised in defense, “I’m sorry, is that too much to ask for?” he adds quickly. “If it’s too much of a trouble, I can pay double-”
“Oh, there’s no need!” Megumi quickly interjects, arms waving frantically. She cannot possibly accept additional payment when this poor stranger already seems at wit’s end. She’s tempted to ask for more context, but finds that it might be rude of her to do so. Instead, she pulls up her works desk and grabs a pretty, light pink, and almost translucent paper to wrap the flowers with. “This would only take a few minutes, please take a seat-”
“Isami,” the stranger pipes up. Megumi stops trying to smoothen out the paper over her desk to look at him. He sits down with light flair, long legs crossing over the other. A cheshire grin sneaks on his lips at the confused expression Megumi exchanges it with. “My name,” he chuckles out. “I figured if you’d be cursing someone in your head for giving you trouble, the least I could do is give you a proper name for it.”
Megumi flushes and raises her hands in defense once more, “Oh-oh, n-no! I-I-I would never -- to a customer-!”
He - Isami - laughs louder, eyes narrowing into little upturned crescents. “I’m kidding,” he tries to spit out despite the shake of his shoulders. “But thank you for assuring me that I’m not on your hit list.”
Megumi sends him a shy, nervous smile, unsure how to respond to his easy jokes. She nods a little and moves back to her work at hand. The faster she finishes, the earlier she can get to Yuki’s bachelorette party. She stares absentmindedly at the tools on her table once she’s done her prep work, memory going back to all the flowers they have in stock as well as their meanings. After scribbling down a checklist on one of the small notepads she keeps inside the pocket of her apron, Megumi’s feet automatically move around the shop. Her muscle memory lets her navigate their quaint little store with ease. Isami doesn’t bother her, and opts to sit in silence, but she feels his eyes move along with every step she takes.
Once she ticks off all the items from her checklist, Megumi sets to work. Her small hands pick up combinations of flowers, attempting to find the right arrangement to fit the requested bouquet. Her fingers move gently, but with purpose. She’s careful not to disrupt the petals and leaves as she clips the thorns from it stem. The florist is far too focused on the task at hand that she doesn’t notice her customer sneaking up to watch behind her.
“Do those flowers have meanings to them?”
At the sound of his voice, Megumi jumps, startled. She drops the scissors in surprise and lets it clatter on top of her work desk.
“Oops,” Isami voices out, guilt clear in his tone. Megumi pivots on her heel and startles herself even more at the proximity between the two of them. Her face flushes a deeper red once he sends her a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”
“It-it’s fine!” she answers hurriedly before she turns back to her work; she makes it a point to stay as close as possible to her work desk in order to avoid bumping into her customer. Isami still hangs behind her, but keeps his distance and leans instead on the counter holding up some of the flowerbeds in front of the shop window.
Megumi realizes belatedly that she hasn’t really answered his question. When she glances over her shoulder, she finds him staring expectantly at her. “Uhm, yes, actually,” she answers in a soft, but clear voice. If there is one thing Megumi is comfortable talking about, it’s anything and everything about flowers.Isami’s expression perks up; Megumi tries hard not to notice. “You asked for a bouquet for an apology, so-so I picked the flowers based on that.”
Megumi picks up a small cluster of white ivy, and smiles softly, “Ivy, for example, would recognize the faults you’ve made; that it doesn’t mean that you’re not committed anymore to the other person.” she picks up a batch of lilies to arrange it with afterwards. “Lilies are often used as a symbol of peace and reconciliation,”
Isami hums in response, which flusters her just a little. “I’m sorry, you might not want to hear me ramble about all this,” she apologizes, setting the cluster of flowers down on her work desk. She tucks a strand of blue hair behind her ear, a nervous habit that shows itself whenever she’s embarrassed. To her surprise (he seems to surprise her a lot), Isami chuckles softly instead.
“Not at all, it’s fascinating really.”
Megumi doesn’t know when he moved to sit adjacent to her, with only the work desk to separate them. The way he looks at her work makes her feel even more nervous, if that would have been humanely possible. Yet, the easy smile on his face lets her feel the genuine sincerity of his words.
She smiles directly at him for the first time that day.
- o -
The remainder of the time they spend inside the shop is filled with curious questions from Isami, which Megumi answers readily and patiently. After a couple of minutes and multiple conversation starters, Megumi finds that talking to him feels relatively easy and oddly comfortable. The easy conversation that Isami leads distracts her enough to slow down the process of her bouquet arranging significantly.
“I’m sorry for the long wait.” she finishes up the bouquet with their signature white four clover pin to hold the ribbon together. With a bright grin, she picks up the arrangement in her arms and gently holds it out for him to take.
“No, I’m sorry for the bother so late in the day,” Isami sends her a sheepish smile. He takes the bouquet from her hands and Megumi is just a little flustered to admit that the way his fingers brush against hers send a spark all the way to her spine. His smile goes a little gentler as he adds, “And for taking up your time by talking too much.”
Megumi raises a hand to wave him off. “It’s fine,” it isn’t, and Fumio-san would hit her upside the head if she knew how long it took her to arrange one bouquet. Yuki-chan would be alright though, should she not arrive on time for her party, it would extend until the early morning anyhow. Megumi moves towards the counter to write up a receipt. The older woman who originally owned the little flower shop has oddly been adamant about keeping things old school; something about the simplicity and tradition give their shop that extra homey edge, she argues.
Isami glances out the window of their store. “It’s getting late,” he observes. “Let me at least walk you home.”
“O-Oh!” Megumi squeaks and drops the pen in her hand. She’s unsure how many times her face has turned from talking to this young man, but she’s relatively sure that her level of hand coordination significantly drops in his presence. “No-no, it’s fine. I can walk home by myself,” Isami opens his mouth to retort but she shakes her head insistently, blue braids bouncing as she moves.
“I’m going to a friend’s bachelorette party anyway,” she explains and doodles a four leafed clover on the side of the receipt. A habit whenever she makes a personalized bouquet, a silent wish for good luck for the person who commissioned the arrangement. “I’ll be picking up her gift on the way home, you see,” she explains. She’s unsure how to bring up the fact that he had been in such a hurry almost an hour before.
Megumi cuts whatever he’s about to say when she announces the total amount for his purchase. Isami hands the specified bills to her without question. When she moves to grab the calculator for the change, he stops her by holding out a bright yellow rose under her nose.
“And for this also,” Isami quips. Megumi looks up and sees him sporting a soft grin. She recognizes the yellow rose as one of the extras she left on the work desk, thorns trimmed and petals still perfectly intact. “That should do the trick, right?” he cocks his head to the side to motion to the poster behind her with the price list. “I checked,”
Megumi slowly nods before handing him the receipt, a little bit dazed and confused at her current situation. Isami smoothly exchanges the paper with the rose in his hand, and Megumi feels her cheeks slowly grow warm as she processes what exactly is happening. She’s too surprised to form coherent words, and sputters almost gibberish in response. Isami, meanwhile, simply laughs out lloud.
“For your troubles, Tadokoro-chan,” before she can ask him how he knows her name, Isami points out the name tag attached to her apron with a chuckle. “My sincerest thanks, grazie!”
Isami leaves the shop before Megumi can form a proper response, a bright grin on his lips and a salute to say goodbye. Megumi finds herself fixated on the bright yellow rose in her hands. A symbol of friendship and innocence; an apology for the unwarranted trouble caused. She jumps out of her self-induced trance as soon as her pocket vibrates with the tempo of her ringtone, and she scrambles to clean up before Yuki-chan sends out a search party for her.
Megumi keeps the yellow rose tucked safely inside her tote bag.
(scientific name: rosa xanthina
genus: rosa
colour: yellow
meaning: friendship; delight; the promise of a new beginning)