The Language of Flowers
"You what?" asked once Genjyo Sanzo of one Son Goku, putting aside his newspaper in order to stare at the brunet properly.
"I want you to have these," repeated Goku stubbornly, holding out a bunch of flowers.
Sanzo appraised the boy in front of him. In the time the monk had known him, he hadn't changed that much: still that same cheeky grin, same insatiable hunger for food and affection, same aura of oblivious innocence, no matter how many youkai he killed.
He considered the flowers: buttercups and white camellias. How curiously appropriate. He wondered, had the brat picked them on purpose, knowing what they symbolised? No, that soft face, gradually sharpening as the boy grew into a young man, bore no trace of guile.
"…Fine, just find me a vase of water or something." He grumbled, and Goku eagerly sped off to do his bidding.
Well, no-one said he had to accept this sort of thing gracefully.
Buttercups: Childishness
White Camellias: Perfection