A/N: Finally an update yass! I'm actually well now, and I've been writing so much but it's so close to Easter now and everything is crazy around the house and the people at work...so everyone is more demanding and I had far too little time to write this.
Thanks to all of you wonderful people for the well-wished and your concern. I love you guys. Anon, you're such a sweetheart.
This isn't beta'd by the way, so be warned, there will be some mistakes here and there, grammar mostly. So now. On with the chapter.
Saitou was sweating; his throat was almost sore and he felt his feet complain by standing for so long in one position. They had him behind this damn counter for hours now, he needed a break!
A smoke break preferably.
But no rest for the wicked. "Your bouquet is ready sir; it's 5.300 yen." The moment the words left Saitou's lips, the middle aged man in front of him moved for his wallet. "Cash or card?"
"Card."
He produced the POS machine and punched in the numbers hastily; the man wiped the card over it, inserted his pin and waited. In a moment, the receipts started coming. On que, Saitou took the grand bouquet of roses and handed it over to the man. It was a gift for his wife…he definitely had cheated. Too many white and red roses. "Thank you for your patronage; please come again. Next one."
"I'd like a relatively big pot of something colourful that means longevity…what do you think I should get?"
"I'd suggest either plum or pear blossoms but if you'd like to think it thoroughly or explore more options Motoko – the girl hunched over there – " he gestured to a nineteen year-old putting some gardenias in order "could help you."
"Ah, no, I like your idea; I'll take the plum blossoms pot."
"Very well; that'll be 1.370 yen sir. Sakura, bring a plum blossoms' pot for the young man," who seemed to have the exact amount; good transaction.
A woman in her thirties, only a metre away from him but from the side of the customers was already wrapping the pot into nice ribbons and the like. "Thank you for your patronage sir; please come again. Next o-"
He never managed to finish because a movement caught his eye and turned his head towards the back. Immediately he felt his nerves snapping, frail as they were already. "What have I told you repeatedly? I'll carry these things inside!" he took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. "Sakura can you take my place? Tokio came w—"
"Finally! Yes, go, go; hello madam, how may I help you?" she was asking even before replacing him and he untangled himself from the front of the shop to go to the back and help with the merchandise.
"Hello Saitou," she saluted brightly as he literally yanked the crates out of her hands.
"That smile doesn't work on me," he said testily "what have I told you? I'll carry the damn crates. How many are there?"
"Fifteen," she went on like he never chastised her.
So, two down thirteen to go. "Want me to leave the manifest with you?" She took it out of her coveralls and handed it to him "I'll come tomorrow morning again so you can give it back then."
"Nah, we're fast and I remember what's in these two crates;" he glared while counting all the flowers and pots in there and she knew it was meant for her even if he wasn't looking at her.
She smiled wider for some reason and he simply shook his head because they still had to go to her truck and account everything. He exited through the back and she followed suit. He opened the back of the truck himself and jumped in. he finished the check in less than a minute and immediately collected five crates; she moved to pick on up but he gave her a death glare.
"What?" She finally addressed his problem, confusion and mild indignation colouring her voice. "I do this all day you know."
"Exactly. You do this all day every day. Now put. It. down."
She chuckled sincerely amused raising her hands as if to prove her innocence, walking away from the crates. Satisfied, he nodded and started carrying them. Yet how could he make such a big deal out of her carrying one or two when he made it look so easy? Admittedly it wasn't, they were heavy; she struggled with the two of them, imagine with twice that and then some. But…he simply did it.
She watched him with fascination. He must have been very strong. She wondered what he looked like without a shirt on. Kind of an inappropriate thought for the workplace, she realised, but didn't seem to care. She simply walked with him and made a note of his every move, seeing none was wasted or extraneous. Yet, he didn't appear to be tired by his physical exercise. Hmmm, no one could be so strong "just because" like he'd said.
"Have you ever worked at a farm Saitou-san?" she asked when she noted once more how easily he put those crates down.
"…no."
"Huh; a stable?" she asked again as they exited the flower shop and went back to the truck
"No."
"…you a fitness nut?"
"No; why are you asking?"
"Because, well, look at you! You lift these things like they don't weigh a ton and-!"
"Oh now they weigh a ton; but when I tell you to put them down suddenly they are light."
She felt colour rising to her cheeks. "I feel like this line of conversation is not to my benefit so I'll stop now."
"You better."
Because really now, he was a florist, not an animal; what sort of man made a woman carry all those things on her own? And she even insisted on it, as if she wasn't obviously weaker than him. This woman was so stubborn, really. He gathered his wits along with five more crates and went through the same motions until all fifteen of them were safely inside and waited to be put in order.
He looked at his watch; 8:30. They wouldn't be closing for two hours at least. "Sakura, can I go take a break?"
She mimicked him, looking at the clock on the wall. "Sure; but please be back in ten."
He nodded he would.
"Come on," he gestured to Tokio to follow him outside and was already fishing inside his apron's huge pocket for, ah, the pack of smokes that felt so familiar and perfect against his thumb. He fiddled with the match box till they were out back, well hidden by the dumpsters but bathing in the light of the street lamp. Only then did he take both out, a cigarette between his lips before she could blink.
The first time, he had offered her one but Tokio, much like most people he knew, didn't smoke. "You said you'd be coming tomorrow again?" he asked as he lit the match.
There was something very seductive in the way he did such mundane tasks, but she couldn't figure out what. And the way he was leaning on the wall under the street lamp's light, his own personal spotlight, made him look like a character out of a noir film. And it suited him.
He raised an eyebrow. "Tokio?"
"Ah yes!" How embarrassing! She was caught staring…or was she? She had this blank expression on her face, maybe he thought she simply zoned out. "This wasn't even supposed to be the last stop—I've already finished my roll. But Yamamoto-san practically begged me to bring you these so…"
He had just finished taking the longest drag, satisfaction evident on his face; he exhaled the smoke in one big cloud. "There are fifteen crates; that's not last-minute amount."
"Irrelevant; tomorrow I'm bringing you your regular amount. It's just that these last two days you've had an unusual amount of customers and they bled you dry; bet you I'll come the day after tomorrow, too."
"Nah, they'll die down."
"I said what I said…"
He seemed to consider then and a small smirk graced his lips. "I'll take that bet."
That was unexpected. "Oh? What are we betting?"
"Coffee; you're coming first thing tomorrow right?"
"Yeah, regular time, regular amount."
"If you come two mornings at a row, coffee is on me for a month; if not, it's yours."
She smiled. "You're on." She watched him extract himself from the wall, as if her sentence signalled the end of his break; somehow she felt a little sad by that. "Going back already? It's barely been five minutes."
"I only wanted the break to smoke," he showed the remaining butt between his fingers before he flung it into the dumpster.
"I see. Well, don't forget, tomorrow I'll come an hour earlier…oh, and I drink my coffee with one sugar."
"I'm not surprised." He snorted. "I take mine black."
"Yeah, you're full of surprises yourself."
"Bye Tokio."
"Bye~!"
.
"I'll be damned…"
"Ah, ah, ah, first things first; where's my coffee Saitou?"
Tokio stretched out her hand; his remained firmly crossed. "…well I didn't know you'd be coming for the fourth time in a row; but give me a second I'll order for the both of us."
"Aaaaaah, yes please, I need the caffeine."
"Good morning, this is Sakura Kiss; I'd like two coffees. One black and the other with one sugar. Just a second; anything to eat?"
"No, I'm good."
"Okay those two and a doughnut." She tried not to laugh. "Thank you; I'll be waiting." He turned to her. "What's so funny about my breakfast?"
"You have a sweet tooth?" she asked through chuckles again.
"…so?"
"Nothing, it's just unexpected I guess. More than that apron even." She tried not to laugh. "Not that green and various shades of pink don't become you" she assured him "but I think blue would suit you better. Even with the various shades of pink."
"Said they'd be here in five; let's go check the manifest. How many crates today?"
"Twelve; mostly flowers."
By the time the coffees were delivered, they were finished with their morning routine. "Now business is done, can I ask for something?"
Her tone caught him off guard, causing him to turn to her almost instinctively. "What is it?"
"I'll go visit my mum at the hospital today; do you think you can arrange a nice bouquet for her? She likes orange and red very much but always enjoys purple, too."
"…is she serious?"
"Ah, no, she's just had an operation to remove her kidney stones; she's doing great."
"That's good; so a get-well-soon bouquet. When do you want it ready?"
"I'll be dropping by around four."
"I'll have it ready by then."
"Great; thanks! Oh, don't forget the discount, okay? Yamamoto-san said I have an ongoing 30% discount at everything!"
"That was generous of him…"
She giggled. "I drive a hard bargain." She took a sip of her coffee and saw it was time to go. Ah, time passed too fast this morning; she barely had time to register she already gave her order. "Make sure you make it look extra nice; she's surprisingly strict with flowers."
"As you wish."
She smiled; he was very busy and she was only making his life difficult. Time to make her exit. "Have a nice day!"
He nodded. "You, too."
It was only after she left that she realised when she spoke about her mother, he made no mention of his own. It was somewhat usual to talk about mothers if one mentioned them…but he made no effort. How…annoying. She actually wanted to know! He didn't sprout from the ground obviously, so she'd love to know about his parents. But much like everything about him, he kept that too a secret.
Damn it, it made her only the more interested.
.
"Oh, those flowers look very pretty; can you add those to the arrangement?"
His eyes followed hers to find the object of her desire; they were a small bouquet of pinkish purple Belvedere, very bold, very distinctive. He raised an eyebrow.
"No."
She widened her eyes. "What?"
"Said no," he repeated louder as he retrieved her impressive bouquet from the fridge.
"Why?" when he didn't speak, she pressed on. "They are literally right there, next to your hand."
"…these are the only ones in the store-"
"Yes, I know, I literally deliver them to you."
"And they are reserved for another customer."
"Oh." She pouted. "Sucks."
He shrugged. "That's life; and this is 4.370 yen."
She scoffed. "Imagine if I didn't have that discount…you're sort of expensive, aren't you-?"
But the bell at the door chimed, effectively stopping her; both people watched as a man in a very nice suit walked in, no older than forty. His hair were long, caught in a low ponytail, sunglasses on. And his hands, whatever was visible, were covered in tattoos…her reaction to the newcomer was very different than the man's though: where she was surprised and then suspicious, he seemed to be annoyed at first but then became completely expressionless.
How strange.
"Good evening sir. How may I help you?"
"I'd like those Belvedere or what's their name flowers you have over there; all of them. How much?"
"One costs around 200 yen but these ten pieces are the last ones so…I'd say 3000 yen for all."
Tokio turned to look at him with exasperation. Oh really? He was giving them to him? And not her? Despite not being the one who had reserved them? But he managed to stop her from staring with but a glance.
"Here;" the newcomer slapped down twice the amount of money Saitou asked; she only just noticed he was missing his pinkie "keep the change. Now hurry up. No, what are you doing? I don't want shit with them, just give them to me."
"As you wish." He simply wrapped some burlap around them and handed them over. "Thank you for your patronage. Please come-…again."
Just when the door closed behind the man, she turned to Saitou, hands crossed and look meaner than ever. "What was that?"
"…a customer?"
"Don't play dumb, you know exactly what I'm talking about! He didn't seem like the person who reserved the flowers…unless of course that was a lie. And you just didn't want to give them to me."
But she was troubled now. "You don't strike me as a person who would lie easily though…but when he came in, you acted a little strange. As if…you knew he would be coming for them." They exchanged a look. "Does he come for them often?"
"No; this was the first time this person ever bought from this establishment as far as I know."
"Then why…? Ah! I know why! You little…it was fir the money wasn't it? Because you could sell them for a higher price to someone other than me not only because I have the discount but because I literally know when you'll be getting the next shipping, isn't that it? Well, don't get too cosy with that guy; I'm betting you he's a yakuza. Saw the tattoos? And he had no pinkie! Besides, I'm pretty sure I have seen him shaking down a couple of folks; better stay away from him."
"…no, not at all."
"Then what is it? Because all I can think of is—oh my god…! I know what it is. And it ties in with your mysterious past."
"My what now?"
But he went ignored as she kept tying up her theory. "You used to be a thug when you were younger, mixed up with some family or another, didn't you? And this man reminded you of your old life in some way, so you gave him the flowers. Obviously something terrible must have happened and you left and came here, but old habits die hard, eh? Which also explains why you can pick up things two times your weight."
"…your imagination runs wild." He couldn't decide if he was amused or angry with her theories…for many reasons. "But if he was yakuza, better be grateful I didn't say yes; those type of people tend to get what they want and you don't strike me as the type of person who would back down easily. You'd make an enemy out of a yakuza, not too wise."
She clicked her tongue. "I'll make sure I throw in a dozen more Belvedere next time I deliver your flowers then. Just for me. Or him, if he shows up again."
She made a face; he rolled his eyes. "Just take your bouquet and go."
.
The bell chimed at the door and Saitou, hardwired to stop whatever he was doing and turn to the door by now, immediately stood up, hunched underneath the counter as he was. But he didn't have time to say anything because a familiar voice exclaimed in triumph:
"I told you he was yakuza!"
"…hello to you, too Tokio."
"Yes, yes, hello, how are you? I'm fine thanks" she dispensed with the formalities in two seconds tops "but I told you he was, I saw him; I was going home from the hospital that I'd stayed till very late yesterday-"
"I thought you said your mother had stones; it's been a week since then, why isn't she out?"
"The doctors found out a pre-existing condition the stones hid. It's a little bit more serious but, they said, manageable for now without surgery. But if in another week from now she hasn't improved, sadly they'll open her up again. And this once it might be dangerous."
"I'll make a nice bouquet for her again."
"Yes, please do that. Anyway!" she shook her head to let go of the sudden sullen mood. "So I was driving home and who do I see outside this bar threatening a poor fellow? Your Belvedere guy. He was wearing a different suit but had his sleeves rolled up and now all of his tattoos were visible and boy were they a lot! Also, he was shaking the guy and throwing him at walls. Generally, he was being a scumbag. See? I was right."
"…never said you weren't, about him. Where was that bar?"
"Oh…? You'd like maybe to go there yourself?"
"Why would-…I'm not and never have been a gangster. Okay? I'm only making conversation. And you should make sure you don't pass behind that place again or he might recognise you next time."
"There's no way; I didn't go with my truck. I have another car to, you know, get around."
"…just be careful around those people." She nodded non-committal. "Or don't listen to me; your funeral." She clicked her tongue. "So why are you here today Tokio?"
"Oh right! I came for another bouquet; I'll go visit her again today."
"But earlier than yesterday right?"
"Can't; work till very late you know. Normally they wouldn't even let me in but the nurses and the doctors know me so they allow me to stay as long as I can and until a patient wants to go to sleep."
He sighed. "When will you be picking it up?"
"Around six."
"I'll have it ready. And you, be careful. No following around known members of yakuza okay?"
"I didn't follow anyone!" she moved to go. "Oh; it was the Castaway bar. Despite obvious affiliations they say it's a nice place; maybe we could go sometime." He shrugged; she had already turned around, rolling her eyes as she went. "Bye Saitou."
She was only joking when she'd asked him but somehow, his casual shrug, felt like a full-blown rejection. Maybe she wasn't joking all that much after all; maybe she said that to herself only after the fact so it wouldn't sting as much. Well whatever; she had her rounds to make and it was still barely one pm.
Once she was safely inside the truck, Saitou got his cell phone out of his apron's bottomless pocket. "Hey, it's Saitou. Yes you idiot, the florist, how many Saitou do you know? I'm working right now and cell phones aren't allowed so I'll have to be quick before anyone comes back—never mind, I'll text you."
With the corner of his eye, he caught movement at the back; Sakura had just finished her break – a real break, not like the five or ten minute breaks he had – and entered the shop. He hung up and let it fall in his pocket. He busied himself with the bouquet Tokio had asked for. He remembered the colours she had asked him the first time so now he only had to pick some different flowers with the same colours and a different composition, to keep things interesting. She'd mentioned her mother was very pleased with his arrangement the first time so she liked his taste, thus he had confidence in his skills for the new bouquet.
"Hey Saitou; what are you doing?"
"I'm picking flowers for a bouquet."
"Oh? That's cute. For whom?"
"Tokio."
There was a stunned silence that followed but he didn't realise, he was too preoccupied in his self-appointed tasks of a) thinking up the new bouquet and b) managing to send the text without being caught. And he really wanted to make sure this one was more imposing than the previous, since now her mother's condition was worse. Maybe the flowers would cheer her up. So he missed the mischievous smile; and the giggle; but most of all, the "I see," she said in the end, all meaning and cheek.
.
"Hey S-…oh hi Sakura-san."
There were many customers in the shop that prevented her from seeing the person behind the counter. She was about to greet Saitou but instead she saw the always well-groomed woman serving, trying to control the chaos with you Motoko. Motoko was easier to spot thanks to her bright purple hair.
"If it isn't Tokio-chan! What are you doing here? It's only three o'clock. Yes sir, that's 3.250 yen. Thank you; next."
"Yes I know, I'm early, but I just saw something and I wanted to tell Saitou. Is he here?"
"Ah, no; he actually asked to take a long break. Motoko-chan bring me three roses and three gardenias please; and four marigolds!"
"He didn't have long breaks before?"
Sakura's cheeks reddened. "He should but he never really asked for more than a smoke-break so…"
Tokio looked affronted, already behind the counter with her to scold her – but not let others hear as Sakura made the composition the customer asked her–. "Sakura-san! That's horrible."
"I know and he deserves them, too, he works very hard."
Tokio scolded her with but a look. "You'll overwork him and he'll leave, be careful. D'you have his cell phone maybe? No wait, I can't call him there; it'd be inappropriate. Give me your landline and-"
"I'll give it to you Tokio-chan," Sakura begun devilishly "I have this feeling he wouldn't mind if it was you I gave him number to. Here is your bouquet dear; it'll be 2.560 yen."
"Really? Why?" Sakura had this expression like she knew something Tokio didn't. "Sakura-san what is it?"
"Just a feeling…next please!"
Her heart beat faster. "Did he say something?"
"Mmm maybe."
And now her heart stopped. "Sakura-san, please tell me!"
"Maybe I saw something today…" Tokio's expectant look made her giggle. "Maybe he has a chance? Should I tell him that?"
"No! No…just tell me if he'll be here around six."
"Yes, he will be here."
"Alright; thanks."
"I'll be here, too you know."
Tokio's cheeks, red already, now became even deeper. "S-so?" She was fooling no one; time to make her exit. "Bye for now Sakura-san, Motoko-chan…"
.
.
"Ah, if it isn't Tokio. How rare to see you in our establishment."
"Saitou-san," she said instead of a greeting "back from your break I see."
"And I presume you're here because you're having yours?"
"Not a break if you've finally finished; that's calling it a day."
"Hello Tokio-chan," Sakura saluted, hidden behind some acacias. Motoko waved as she passed in front of her, elbow deep in dirt. Saitou was surprisingly clean though, spotless behind the counter.
"What? You only carry stuff? You don't help with the dirty work?"
He shrugged, purposefully in clear view of both his co-workers. "Yamamoto-san believes I'm more effective than the girls in this post, so he keeps me here. Ah, which reminds me; stay put."
He was gone in the back, where the fridge was, where they kept the orders – aka bouquets that were already made and simply waited to be picked up –; that's when Sakura beamed at Tokio, nodding wildly, a conspirator's expression on her face. Tokio gestured "what" with her hand, mouthed it at the older woman. "You're about to see," Sakura mouthed back and nearly clapped out of excitement.
She first caught a glimpse of the extravagant wrapping paper and the loops of the ribbon around the flowers, rather than Saitou. "This is yours."
"Oooh, it's beautiful!"
"Yes, isn't it? So amazing; look at those colour combinations." Sakura commented, coming close all of the sudden, gushing along with Tokio.
A proud smugness took over him. "Did my best."
"Aw, thank you Saitou; I really appreciate it."
"Takagi-san deserves the best."
Even though he had never met her, it was obvious this person in front of him was raised with love and support; and she offered it right back when her parents needed it. So they all deserved to be happy by beautiful flowers.
Tokio laughed but Sakura became confused. "She sure does…"
But why was Saitou suddenly calling Tokio by her last name? And why wasn't Tokio acting more amazed by the gorgeous bouquet he offered her? Was she missing something?
"I'm sure she'll love it; mom was very impressed the previous time, I'm sure now she'll be gobsmacked. Thank you for the effort. How much?"
Wait…this was for Tokio's mom? As in, Tokio commissioned it…? Oh no! Sakura was mortified; she made a huge mistake and what's more, she involved Tokio in it, too and gave her false hope. Sakura started looking for her eyes, seeing the girl was now going even closer to Saitou, too close for professional conversation.
"Only 4 for you."
She snorted. "I'll give you that it must have cost a fortune; I take the better end of the bargain." She looked into all the pockets of her coveralls to find the bills. "Here, thanks."
She took a deep breath when he was too busy with opening the register to put the money in and cut the receipt; Sakura saw it and cursed herself. Look my way, look my way, come on she kept mentally begging; then it happened and her anxiousness must have translated as "go for it" to Tokio because she gave a smile and turned around.
Oh no, I'm awful.
"You know, third is the charm; if I have you make a third one how about you give it to her? I'm sure she'd love to see the person who keeps making such beautiful arrangements for her."
Ugh, no Tokio-chan.
"No, thanks; I'm not good at show and tell."
"Just show…"
"Then that wouldn't be much of a meeting, would it?" Fuck I'm so embarrassed, both women thought at the same time for the exact same reason from a different perspective. "Just go give your mom some pretty flowers; even if you didn't put them together yourself, she'll appreciate the gesture, don't worry. She'll love it anyway."
Why was it that he just didn't seem to comprehend she was trying to ask him out? She wasn't insecure about her mother—she just wanted to be with him in a situation outside of work. She smiled defeated, shaking her head in agreement. "You are right; how silly of me. I'm gonna go now. Bye everyone; thanks again for the flowers."
But she saved a very exasperated look for Sakura just before she left; Sakura looked back apologetic. Tokio sighed and left.
.
.
"I'd like some of these; how are they called?"
"Foxglove, sir."
"Do they come in more colours?"
"Yes, we have some red and pale pink ones at the back."
"Hmmmm, what about these? What are they called?"
"Dahlia, sir."
"Like the famous Black Dahlia case?"
"I suppose."
"But these aren't black."
"The woman had black hair; we have purple and magenta here."
"Hair?"
"Flowers, sir."
"Hmmmm and these?"
"Eglantines."
Tokio watched Saitou trying to serve one of the most air-headed, casual, and ignorant and infuriating people that ever walked that flower shop. He was about her height, short dirty brown hair that were too light for a Japanese person but they still looked to be his natural hair colour. He was lean and generally good-looking; if he was in any other setting that this one, acting like this, with a huge smirk on his face as if enjoying making people's lives miserable, Tokio was sure Motoko would be swooning and Sakura would be elbowing Tokio repeatedly.
But even his good looks and his young age didn't do the trick; all amounted to zero in front of bad manners. so all three women simply stood by and watched the customer with distaste.
"And these?"
"These are glory flowers sir."
"Hm…I changed my mind. I'd like a bouquet of roses, lilies, some carnations…maybe some of these big and impressive ones."
"These are daisies in another colour than the usual white one, sir."
"Great; those! I think the bouquet will be better for a first date."
"As you wish."
"Or maybe a pot would be better? It would signify I want to take care of the-!"
"Hello, Saitou-san, excuse me sir, could you help me…?"
"Yes; sir, would you mind if one of the ladies helped you finish your order? I have to help with something out back."
And what usually was nothing but a formality, here, this customer, was making it a big deal. "But I started with you; you knew all my original preferences. I feel more comfortable with you." And the bastard was still giving his smug smirk, knowing he was making more problems than he was worth, but wouldn't give in. after all, what would they do? Kick him out?
"I see; then please wait Tokio. I'll be with you once the gentleman decides."
"…I'll wait." She looked at the man at first with hostility but then…she realised. If he was simply nervous for the first date, well, she could always help him out. She nudged Sakura to do her job, who refused to do anything of the sort so far out of pure indignation.
"You know sir, if this is a first date, a nice bouquet is always preferable." Tokio started and all but shoved Sakura into the conversation.
"Though it depends on the girl and the bouquet itself of course; you don't want it too big or else she'll think you're trying too hard. But a pot is underwhelming, yes? Unless she likes them, in which case, by all means." She finally spoke.
"Hm…I think she'd prefer the bouquet. But not a big one, you're right."
Finally they were getting somewhere! "Maybe then only daisies and lilies?"
"Or carnations and roses?" Tokio supplemented, seeing the denial ready on his mouth.
"Yes! Yellow carnations and white roses!"
Both women chuckled but it was Saitou who explained. "Yellow carnations are a no go, literally; choose red ones or white or the ones with mixed colours, those are very good, too. And roses…better not go with yellow either. Any other colour is fine."
"A nice red and white combo on both then?"
"Excellent choice; a modest bouquet of two and two of each kind, one for each colour. I'm wrapping it up."
Why was it that when it came to other people Saitou was so in tune with romance and grand gestures but when it came to him and understanding he was being hit on he was so thick? And look at that nice bouquet he made for this person; red ribbon, perfect loops, beautiful greenery to complete the set and almost heart-shaped wrapping paper. Goddamn it, maybe that's what she should do: order the perfect bouquet for a first date and then give it to him!
Nah, too forward; and he wouldn't like it. She could tell.
"That's 1.500 yen; cash or card?"
"Card please; here you are."
The transaction was completed in seconds. "Thank you for your patronage; please come again."
"If she likes it I will. Bye bye," the short man said on his way out.
"What an odd fellow." Sakura commented, hands on hips. "I don't know what to make of him. He was very fast and polite with us but Saitou he gave such a hard time!"
"Don't care about people like him. Come on Tokio, I'll take the crates from the truck." Oh right, she was here for a reason. "How many?"
"Ten and they are all roses; your boss is stocking up on them."
"We were running low, truth be told."
It gave her an odd sense of familiarity, his easiness, how naturally he opened the door to her truck and hastily counted the contents and then compared them to the manifest he was requesting with his flat palm looking up.
And when he was done, he put it in his apron, taking out his pack of smokes. "I'm taking a quick break once we're done." He explained.
"You really like smoking…" He shrugged. "It's gonna kill you, you know."
"Many things might kill me; if it is the one thing I chose for pleasure, so be it." He put a cigarette behind his ear as he collected five crates, stacked them and began his come-and-go.
"Next time wear a tighter shirt, will you?" she snapped as she held the door open for him, angling her head in all sorts of ways but coming up empty.
"I believe comments like that can be called sexual harassment."
Her smile was coy. "I only meant if you wear them tighter you won't be in danger of ripping anything; your clothes are always getting caught on the wood."
He gave her a look; her smile turned innocent. "…" He shook his head.
"Take our friendly neighbourhood yakuza for instance; he's always dressed to impress."
"Tokio, we've already talked about this; don't follow around yakuza members."
"I don't" he gave her that look again, which meant he didn't believe her. "I don't; he was at the hospital! He must have someone at the same wing as my mum because I ran into him twice in one day." He urged her to go on wordlessly, now in the process of picking up the other five crates. "Once at the cafeteria grabbing a coffee and once at the corridor. He…"
She stopped; he raised an eyebrow as he lowered the crates. "Um, never mind." She looked outside: sun had already set, it was dark and inside it was bustling with every day sounds and people's voices. She recognised an exit when she saw one and this was hers. "I'm gonna go now, have a nice br-!"
He grabbed her wrist. "I'm taking five," he spoke in a higher volume for Sakura's sake; to his credit, he only walked out with her when he heard the ok from the older woman. He let go of her hand only when he had settled against the wall, searching for his matches. He moved the cigarette from behind his ear to his mouth and said "Go on now," in that kind of sexy muffled way he did and…
…she couldn't; she'd been too preoccupied feeling so much heat rising to her face the moment he caught her hand—had he just, how can he, and he was casual, what was up? She was nearly hyperventilating! He was so forward but he didn't even realise, he was simply looking at her like an idiot for not speaking already. And the whole cigarette in the mouth, looking at her angled from the wall—all of it was too much for her heart.
"It's nothing, really."
"Speak. Now."
She averted her eyes. "I was just going to say…I don't think he realised where he saw me because he only recognised me the second time I ran into him; called me the coffee girl…so" she drawled on the word "it's safe to assume he doesn't remember me from here."
He exhaled smoke, cigarette between his fingers. "No but that means if he sees you here again he will remember you." He looked at her for a long moment, returning the smoke in its rightful place. "Good job, stalker; now a yakuza remembers your face."
"I wasn't staking him—I'm not that curious! I was visiting my mum who is still at the hospital. What was I supposed to do? Turn around and hide? I didn't even see him both times, I literally ran into him, spilled coffee on him in fact."
"Ah; that's why he remembered you. You ruined his shirt."
"Yes."
He scoffed. "Congratulations again; you definitely know how to pick them."
"What do you mean pick them? I just run into him a lot."
"Well if you run into him again and he tries to strike up conversation, shut him down. It won't end well for you."
"I know that without you telling me, thank you very much."
.
.
"So I might not have listened to you…"
Saitou put down his shears very slowly and carefully; he stopped trimming one the bushes that made their front look pretty and turned to look at her very pointedly. He stared and he didn't even have to ask "what did you do now?" in his exasperated voice—she could see it in his eyes.
"The yakuza guy—he stroke up conversation with me all on his own yesterday."
He put his forehead in his hand. "Not even a week since I warned you—not even four days!"
"Well, Toyohisa, that's his name by the way, Toyohisa came to me with coffee and he said it was just how I liked it so I had to take a sip and verify—and he was right. Anyway, he came and asked me a whole bunch of things: why I was there, who I was visiting…I tried not to engage him but he was very friendly, I couldn't help it! So, long story short, instead of me telling him things he ended up telling me something important and I think I need to go to the police with these information because they'll definitely be useful but I don't know if I should do it."
He gave a long, deep sigh. He wasn't disappointed in her, no; he was at a loss. She did the exact opposite of what he told her and now she even says she has information about the police…!
"Look Tokio, being a police informant is the last thing you need right now. If you feel comfortable enough with the idea I guess you could do it, but if word gets out by some crooked cop, you're done; you'll need to relocate, you'll keep looking over your shoulder, it'll be a nightmare. Think on your next move very carefully; I'm not telling you not to do it but if you do it, there probably won't be turning back."
"…that's one very grounded in reality answer you have for me buddy." He shrugged; that's when he decided that going back to his previous task was useful. "In fact, it's too grounded, and very articulate for such a delicate and unexpected matter. How were you so ready with that suggestion?"
Fuck; fuck, he said it without thinking. And fuck it, she noticed. "Can it be…" she leaned in closer and whispered in his ear "you are actually a police informant on the run yourself?"
He rolled his eyes. "So this is what's next on what-can-Saitou's-totally-mysterious-past-be this week? Even if I told you I was doing the exact same thing as now only in a different prefecture…"
"You can't fool me," she snapped "no one gets that strong for no reason; and Sakura-san told me you had to learn the job, even if you learnt very fast, you still had to."
Sakura-san talks too much and "she needs to get her facts straight; I only needed to learn the ropes of this particular shop."
"Aha." She didn't seem convinced.
"So what did you find out about the yakuza guy anyway?"
"Oh right! Well-…should I be telling you? What if you get involved, too?"
"Speak Tokio."
"…okay. But don't say I didn't warn you!" he gave her his look and she couldn't help her feet becoming jelly. "I found out he was visiting a person he kept calling big brother…and then he even distinguished between small big brother and big big brother and this one in the hospital he says is the big big brother."
Saitou stared flabbergasted. "And he just told you that?"
"Yeah; well that and many more but that was the important thing I thought I should tell the police about."
"I get this is important but why would he divulge such a big secret like that to you?"
She chuckled; wait, he didn't get it? Oh really now? Her eyes grew in size in an effort to make him see the obvious…but he didn't. Her smiled fell and she shook her head. "He told me because he was flaunting Saitou; he was showing off to me."
"Yes, but why?"
She pursed her lips. "Because as unbelievable as it may sound, he liked me. He was flirting with me."
"I get that; you're an attractive person." Wait what? So was he or wasn't he a complete idiot when it came to these things? "Why would a person like him flaunt so easily troubles me; he must know you can't just talk about these things to an outsider no matter how good-looking he thinks you are."
She blushed and then some more. "Uh-I don't know…ask him why."
"Sorry, I'm thinking out loud."
"That's okay; you're curious, too. I get it."
"Yeah," curious, sure. "Just try not to talk to him again; avoid him. Definitely don't encourage him."
"…I'll try, I swear."
"Just try and stay safe, Tokio." She nodded. "Why are you here anyway? It's too late for a normal delivery and far too early for a last-minute one. What happened?"
"…nothing, I just…I was just passing by, I'm on a break…and I thought maybe you were having yours, too…"
"I'm having my mine in five minutes; if you wanna wait be my guest." That seemed to brighten her day; he mustn't have realised why because his look of surprise was unparalleled. "I feel like eating soba. You in?"
"Sure," she chuckled out as an answer at his peculiar request. "I know a nice corner where you can smoke, too."
A/N: Hope you liked lovelies! Review a line or two to tell me your opinions.
Kisses,
FAI.
