A/N: Yet another one shot. I really need to get over this one shot fever I'm having. Anyway, this has nothing to do with my other one shot, for those that have read it, but there will be a companion piece, which will be based off another song, when I find it. The poetry bit is part of the song, so I would listen to the song first. Song: Painting Flowers by All Time Low
God, how I hate getting flowers. Everyone seems to think its some big, romantic gesture, but to me, it means something completely different.
Flowers wilt, they die, they're only nice for a couple of days. To everyone else, that's just life. Plants die, it's that simple. But to me, the flower dying represents the love dying. Why give the person you desire something that will die within a couple of days if you aren't serious?
Of course, the Kakashi Fan club made sure that every Monday and Thursday was 'Give Kakashi Flowers Day'. As soon as I found out about this (AKA, as soon as I came home and found a pile of flowers on my front door with a note from the fan club) I went down and threatened the squealing girls (and some guys). They took this well, not listening to a word I said, and continued to send me flowers.
I threw every single flower out. I never read the cards, the declarations of love.
Today was a Wednesday, which, thankfully, meant no flowers. Sometimes, someone in the fan club will be 'creative' and 'unique' and send me flowers on a day that isn't 'Give Kakashi Flowers Day'. So I wasn't surprised to find a rose on my doorstep. What did surprise me was a large, flat, rectangular object, wrapped in a soft looking paper.
Throwing the rose out, I picked the present up and took it inside. There was no card, nothing to say who it was from, which meant it wasn't from the fan club. This wasn't new; sometimes independent shinobi sent me gifts. But so far, there has always been some form of identification, some form of card, something to tell me who sent this.
I tentatively opened it, unsure of what to expect. And I hate being unsure.
Underneath the many multi-coloured layers of paper, was a painting. A painting of flowers. There were all sorts of colours, and I knew whoever had painted this had a good eye for colour. They were arranged so that it was pleasing for the eye, yet still held a certain ferociousness that made you look, something that wouldn't let you look away.
They were also talented. The detail on every flower, on every petal was amazing. It was almost like a photograph, but I could tell that they had deliberately made the strokes apparent. It was breathtaking the amount of control they had over a brush.
In the bottom left hand corner was a short message, something that I had missed when I looked over the painting. I read it, and was thoroughly confused.
When I wake up
The dream isn't done
I wanna see your face and know I made it home
If nothing is true
What more can I do?
I am still painting flowers for you
That was new. It was almost like poetry. I had been sent some sad attempts at poetry before, and also some surprisingly good ones from strange sources (Who knew Gai could write poetry? Then again…) but this was different. It didn't end in a declaration of love, and that was something I was unfamiliar with.
I hung the picture up on the wall, right opposite the door, so whenever I came in, I could look at the painting and remember that someone out there knew me enough to not send me flowers.
Not in the literal sense, anyway.
A/N: Whoever guesses who sent Kakashi the picture will get a one shot with whatever they want. But only the first person gets it! I will write just about anything, and even if I absolutely despise the pairing, or you want fluff I will TRY! I haven't written much fluff, this is the closest I've ever gotten. My fics are depressing...
~Vithian