This is my first and probably...or maybe last attempt at Hakuouki fanfiction. Based solely on the anime because that way I don't have to keep referencing back to a game I haven't played yet due to my being one of the lamest people on earth. =_=;;
But I like the idea of Kazama flower shopping for Chizuru, even though she doesn't love him :( Yet. :)
XxrenxX kindly gave me permission to use her wonderful art as the cover art for this oneshot! (Isn't it gorgeous?!) Check her out at xxrenxx. deviantart. com!(remove the spaces)
...
Let's not forget about the fear
Blank invitation to a place
That cannot change
White demon
Widen your heart scope
...
For a normal midweek day the main town of Kyoto is surprisingly busy. There are a few children running in and out of shops when they should be in school, housewives rushing around frantically to purchase domestic items so that they can return to their homes and continue their lives in domestic bliss, and even, strangely enough, two men that everyone knows about but dares not mention in any kind of conversation when they're around. Because unlike the Shinsengumi who have issues with just a few locals here and there but are mostly respected because at least they try and appear amicable, the men walking leisurely through the middle of town are the kinds of people who make no effort to be friendly and every effort to make anyone within sight feel like they shouldn't be.
They walk past shops and people with the same disinterested, faintly supercilious expression, wearing garments that are far too regal, far too imposing to betray them as commoners, which everyone already knows they're not anyway. They're not even locals, and sometimes that annoys the kind of proud people who don't like feeling as if they don't belong anywhere that those men are, despite living there for generations.
One of the men, hair the colour of dusty sun and a posture fit for a king, stops in front of a shop that says 'Tama's Flowers, Bouquets and Gifts', and goes inside. He's followed by man with crimson hair tied into a loose pony tail that hangs down his back.
The shopkeeper inside isn't sure what to make of the pair that walks into her shop, except to think that they are most certainly not welcome. There's an aura about them that screams the kind of danger a simple flower shop owner like herself just doesn't want anything to do with. But because business has been slow since the Shinsengumi imposed a non-official curfew due to suspicious activity that they say has been going on at night, she has no choice but to leave them be, contenting herself with keeping a very close, watchful eye on them.
She takes a vase of flowers that are on the counter and holds them close to her chest possessively. If there are any flowers she's protective of, it would be the new shipment of azaleas that her husband ordered if only to make her smile because she's been trying to grow them in Kyoto for years now with no luck. She's of loath to sell them to anyone, let alone these two men that people call demons in hushed whispers behind the backs of their hands without realising the amount of truth behind it.
The first man who walked in; the blonde one, picks up one of the flowers on the main stands. It's as red as blood and he looks at it hard, scrutinizing it down to its' last petal for a few minutes, before turning to his companion, a question on his face.
"This one, do you think?" he says seriously, offering the flower for inspection.
Said companion, Amagiri, quirks a curious brow and works to supress a smile of amusement.
"It is quite appropriate; Kazama-san" is his attempt at a neutral reply, "Although the flower lady over there is partial to the azaleas."
The gazes of both men wander to the lady behind the counter who clutches a vase of pretty pink and purple flowers with petals that look as fragile as paper. She regards them coolly, and Kazama decides he doesn't like her at all. He narrows his eyes, making her quickly avert her stare, and then scowls.
"I don't care what the flower lady thinks."
Amagiri nods in assent, his mouth twitching in a way he can't control. Because it really is as absurd a thing as he thinks to be with Kazama shopping for flowers. Ludicrous enough for Amagiri to want to make a scene out of it, because as nice a guy as he is, even he has enough of the malevolent type of cynicism in him to enjoy a moment like this.
"I never thought I'd live to see the day when you'd be obsessing over which flower is more romantically appropriate for a girl who obviously has a more platonic perspective of you." Amagiri pauses a moment, thoughtful, "In fact, does she even like you?"
It's a brave question, and he knows he's pushing boundaries that shouldn't even be broached, but he figures there are few who can do that to Kazama, and he likes to delude himself into thinking he's one of them, hanging on the hope that their dysfunctional leaning more towards convenient friendship, at best, would be enough of a saving grace by the end of it all.
Kazama clicks his tongue off the top of his mouth, all the while still smelling the delicate flower in his hand.
"And I never thought I'd live to see you still living after being so brave with your choice of words with me," Kazama offers as he sweeps his gaze over to Amagiri, smiling in that fake, deceitful way that says 'Try it, I dare you', and it makes Amagiri want to start planning his final will now, before the day is out.
"Touché"
"And besides," Kazama continues, "She's tainted by her excessive association with humans. You know how pathetic they can be. I pity her. What is this by the way?"
"No you don't. You pity humans in general." Amagiri gestures to the flower in Kazama's hand. "That's called lilium rubella, or the maiden lily. They aren't as popular as the more traditional rose, for the occasion you want them for anyway."
Kazama forgets to glare at Amagiri's comment, staring at the pink flower in his hand and back at the rose he had just before. "The popular choice," he mutters, "Says who?"
"Basic principle, something along the lines of best annual wedding slash relationship anniversary flower."
"Basic human principle," Kazama corrects, "And I thought we imposed a moratorium on cultural references I wouldn't understand." He puts the lily down and walks over to another vase filled with white flowers on long stalks.
"What's there not to understand?" Amagiri inquires before taking one of the flowers out of the vase, "These are daisies."
"Should I finish that sentence - references I wouldn't understand or care about. The fact that it's a human tradition is enough for me to not care about it."
"Giving flowers is both sentimental - something you apparently despise - and entirely humanistic. You obviously care." Amagiri lifts the daisy to his nose and inhales the scent. It's fresh and tangy and he uses it as an excuse to explain his triumphant smile that Kazama can probably interpret in all its truth anyway.
"It's Chizuru," Kazama counters almost defensively; "I have to care."
"I told you s-"
"I wish you would shut up sometimes."
Kazama discards the daisy carelessly, leaving it to fall to the dirty ground in a way that the shopkeeper does not appreciate. She takes turns glaring between Kazama and Amagiri and then at the abused daisy she probably doesn't even care about anyway save for the fact that her two unwanted customers abused it, which is seemingly enough reason to pretend to care. Amagiri ignores her, wandering over to a display of flowers in, again, soft hues of pink and white on wide, fragrant petals. He strokes one between his finger and thumb, feeling the soft texture against his skin.
"Personally," he says, choosing a soft pink flower with dark pink freckles fading out and offering it to Kazama, "I'd say she's more an amaryllis kind of girl."
Kazama ignores it, reaching past Amagiri's protruding hand for a purple rose. Amagiri smirks, regarding the flower with amusement, "More commonly known" he continues, disregarding Kazama's superficial disinterest, "As the naked lady."
Kazama stiffens, but doesn't look at Amagiri. There is a killing aura exuding off of him that Amagiri tries to pretend not to notice, even though it's hard to do.
"Do I want to know how you reached that conclusion?" He asks icily, "Or will that just make me want to hurt you for having had the time to think about something like that in connection with Chizuru?"
"Just saying…"
"Well don't," Kazama stares at his rose a little, the killing intent abating somewhat. "And why do you know so much about flowers anyway?"
Amagiri shrugs nonchalantly. "I like flowers," he says, as if every demon coincidentally also known for excellent swordsmanship and being among the most formidable opponents in hand-to-hand combat likes flowers. Although Kazama can see how, of all people, it would be Amagiri to nurture that kind of interest in his spare time. He's always been among the softest of the demons he's ever known, and sometimes Kazama finds himself coveting that kind of soft nature if only to know what kindness feels like in return. He drops the subject though and resumes studying his rose.
"This one?" he asks.
It's a deep purple, almost black, and to Amagiri its borderline imposing. Strangely fitting for Kazama, he muses, but not exactly something Chizuru would attach with endearment.
"I don't know…" Amagiri murmurs.
Kazama blinks, still regarding the rose in a way that makes Amagiri think he's trying to instigate some kind of conversation with it.
"It's says chivalrous and passionate, I think."
Amagiri shakes his head and turns back to his naked lady.
"That's not chivalrous." Amagiri mumbles, "That's not even romantic."
"I'm not trying to be romantic,"
"But you're trying to be chivalrous,"
Kazama hums in agreement. "That's what she wants," he croons as he takes a few more purple roses from the stand.
"You're just trying to be convenient and possessive."
Kazama ignores Amagiri, stacking his arms with a dozen or so roses before turning away swiftly, making his coat billow out and whip Amagiri across the torso hard enough so that Amagiri knows he hasn't been forgiven. "I'm getting the roses." Kazama declares haughtily, before heading towards the door without a backwards glance.
Amagiri watches a moment as Kazama stalks out of the shop, roses in hand and a scowl on his face and a small smile lights his features. As indifferent as Kazama insists on being when it comes to humans, he has always shown a more-than-enough interest in most anything they do. Apparently buying flowers is no different.
He goes to follow Kazama when he hears a sharp cough from behind him. Noticing the shopkeeper, he drops a note onto the nearest table, not caring that she'd put down her azaleas to stand up with her hand outstretched for the payment - hand on hip and eyebrow arched, as if that's supposed to be intimidating to someone like Amagiri.
In spite, he walks out of the shop with his lily still in hand; aware that the note he left would not have been enough to cover his flower too. He thinks it's just silly paying for something nature gives free anyway, and he walks away making no effort to catch up to Kazama.
There. Hope you enjoyed reading and that you were able to follow it okay, because I've got this great not-so-new habit of sometimes not making sense and not caring about it at the same time. But please, review and let me know your thoughts! :)
Oh and yes, while I am aware that the aforementioned flowers might not even grow in somewhere like Kyoto or even Japan in general, I am too partial to the idea of Kazama getting jealous over something like naked ladies to go back and change it to something that might actually make sense in reference to flowers and Japan. But I think it's okay because the characters might've possibly come off as way too OC for it to even matter anyway. And then there's the fact that I don't think purple roses actually exist. At least not the kind of purple I was referring to.
But it was fun to write so I'm happy.
Thanks for reading strangers and maybe-not-strangers and don't forget to review! :)
