Anita: Lol with the gardening puns xD

Lotus Flower
April – Sweet Pea, Departure

"Rukawa-kun?"

Rukawa looked up from where he was busy loading the small pots of young bushy plants onto a cart.

"Oh," Mariko smiled as she came to see what he was doing. "Are the sweet peas ready to go outside?"

"I think it's the right time," Rukawa replied in his usual quiet voice. "There should be no more frosts."

"I think you're right," Mariko had to reach up to give him a friendly pat on his shoulder. "You've got a good instinct for these things. Luckily Uemeda finished off the support frames last week. Do you know how to tie them on?"

Rukawa nodded silently and bent to retrieve the last few pots from the cold frame where they had spent the winter sheltered and warm, and finally begun to spring up from the ground last month.

"These are good sellers," Mariko explained to him. "They're lovely little flowers. The fragrance is just to die for. Such an unusual shape, and a wonderful variety of colours. And the plants produce and produce; the more flowers you cut, the more grow back," she smiled. "And at this nursery we have some of our own special colour combinations. My grandfather cultivated his own variety. It's named after him, did you know?"

Rukawa blinked at her momentarily. He found it interesting that flowers could be cultivated into different and unique varieties. But he couldn't help feel a little sad that these flowers were destined to be cut for such trivial things as bouquets and arrangements. It seemed… disrespectful. And a little sad. Such cheerful and lovely things that grew tall and strong only to be cut down by humans seeking to possess that beauty, control it, corral and confine it. It wasn't the wish of the sweet peas to grow for human enjoyment. They didn't deserve to be hurt or cut down just because they were… beautiful.

He preferred to see them wild in hedgerows and along the edges of the road. But Mariko needed to make her money, and he understood that. He, too, was here in order to be paid, after all.

"These are popular flowers for weddings too!" Mariko continued to explain. "We get lots of business with these..." she trailed off, looking thoughtful. "Say, have you heard of hanakotoba?"

Rukawa gave a brief shrug. Hanakotoba… the language of flowers. Special meanings assigned to each flower so that one could send and receive and display special tokens of feeling without the use of the words. He considered thoughtfully. The red rose; that was the universal symbol of love. Perhaps the most famous example of the language of flowers. The symbolism of that bloom was world-renowned. But there were others. Many others. He hadn't made much study of them. They didn't really interest him much. The flowers alone were fascinating enough without such unnecessary social human complexities that he didn't need and would prefer to avoid. They were labels, forced upon the flowers. Untrue. And rather unfair.

"Do you know the meaning of the sweet pea?"

"No..."

He started to push the cart along the path towards the glasshouse exit, and Mariko kept pace beside him, still chattering away.

"Even though they are pretty and popular, the meaning is actually a sad one. Did you know? Sweet peas are for goodbyes."

"...oh."

She switched topics abruptly. "Are you going to see the cherry blossoms this year, Rukawa-kun?"

He lifted his head at the new and most unwelcome topic.

"Um... no."

"Really? But I thought it was popular amongst-"

At that moment, the wheel of the cart caught in a rut and the sweet pea plants were all jolted as Rukawa suddenly had to struggle to prevent the whole thing from tipping to the side and upsetting all the pots.

Mariko quickly reached out to help steady the plants, casting her eyes upon the offending rut in the hard-packed ground in which the wheel was now jammed. "I must get that fixed!" she bemoaned. "It's from that delivery of the irrigation pipes last week. They dragged it along the floor and scored a dent right the way to the window. Darn."

Rukawa had to use all his strength to lift the cart free of the hole.

"Oh, well done," Mariko said, pleased. "Lucky you're such a strong lad. I'll get it filled in this afternoon."

Rukawa pushed the cart back into motion and continued on his way out of the greenhouse and towards the outside beds. Away to the left were the tall frames set on the freshly cleared soil, waiting for the climbing sweet pea plants to be set at their base.

"Have you already added compost?" he asked Mariko who was still walking nearby.

"Not yet. I'll help you collect some from the bins..."

They went together towards the area where Mariko kept her composting bins. There were dozens of them, releasing a hot, sweet smell of rot into the air.

"There's probably only a week left of the cherry blossoms, you know, Rukawa-kun. If you want, you could join my family…? We're going tomorrow."

"No, thank you, Mariko-san."

"Hm. Okay. If you insist."

They worked on. Rukawa's mind became a rather unpleasant swirl of thoughts he would much rather have set aside and forgotten about. He had been doing rather a good job, he thought, of pretending not to have noticed, or not to have cared, that Sendoh had not called him as promised. That his phone had remained typically silent. That his life was going on in it's normal, everyday way, completely unexceptional, unremarkable, comfortable and safe and that that should have been a good thing. A welcome thing. And he was happy about it.

Except that he wasn't. There was something a little dark and a little bitter. A nasty little feeling that he didn't like.

Had Sendoh… forgotten? Changed his mind?

Not unexpected, he reflected. Perhaps the whole offer in the first place had been insincere and it was Rukawa's mistake for misinterpreting him. Perhaps he'd just got the wrong end of the stick. Perhaps Sendoh had only offered out of politeness and perhaps Rukawa had been rude to actually seem to accept. Had it seemed that he had been pushy, supplying his phone number? Had Sendoh been surprised to actually receive it when all along the whole thing had been clearly intended as a sham? Just a forced routine of politeness that had never been intended to be serious?

He ground his teeth a little.

Why hadn't he just refused? Things… always turned out like this. He ought to have done the safe thing and simply said no. That was… easier. That worked. He'd had his whole life to practise, and he'd discovered finally that keeping away from people was really the only way he could stop this… could stop this… could avoid this… this… awful... pain.

For that… that was what it was. This… feeling. It… hurt.

He was an idiot. He shouldn't have risked something like this. He'd done this to himself. Like a fool. He ought to know better by now.

Mariko made her way back to the office and left Rukawa alone with his thoughts. He forced the shovel into the loose, fluffy soil, turned it once, twice, mixing in a shovelful of compost. He watched his hands gripping the shovel shaft, pale, delicate. Every finger was a little bent. He'd broken every single finger at least once. That was par for the course playing basketball. Basketball.

His mind drifted to the court near his home. His ball was already in his bag. He'd go there later and release his frustrations on the hoop. For now he dug suitable holes in the well-mixed soil and set the little sweet pea plants into place to face their inevitable destiny.

Beautiful. Cut down.

There was a practise match at Ryonan that afternoon. Aoba High, a quasi-decent team from the next district. Not good enough, though, for the easy confident play of Sendoh Akira. Ryonan already had a comfortable lead. The game wasn't yet in the bag but they could pretty much afford to simply allow the clock to wind down. It didn't look as if Aoba were capable of staging much of a comeback.

And yet the Ryonan captain was distracted. As the match went on, he became more and more so, much to the displeasure of his coach.

The whistle blew, loudly. "Time out! Ryonan."

The players dragged their feet towards the bench, where Taoka was standing and grinding his teeth, rolling a chewed-up pencil between his fingers.

"Sendoh, what are you doing?" he rumbled crossly. "You were practically free, why did you risk passing it out?"

Sendoh managed a sheepish smile. "Oh I – guess I just didn't feel like making the jump."

There was a moment of silence, before the pencil snapped audibly in Taoka hands. "You… didn't… FEEL like…?" he began, his voice gradually rising in volume as his anger caught the wind and began to unfurl like a sail. "YOU – DIDN'T – FEEL..."

Sendoh raised his hands in a placating gesture, trying to calm the coach before he really got going with the shouting. "Actually, I just wanted Koshino to have another chance to go up against his defender, that's all. Really. He's doing really well. I think this game is great practise for him. I can practically see him improving. And there was still plenty of time on the shot clock."

Taoka turned away, his face a strange shade of purple, grumbling and mumbling under his breath.

Koshino leaned in close to Sendoh. "That's nonsense and you know it."

Sendoh grinned at him and shrugged.

"Why do you keep looking at the clock?" Koshino questioned out of the corner of his mouth.

Sendoh let out a sigh. "Well I, um, got some place that I gotta be."

As soon as the teams had shaken hands and left the court, Sendoh made a break for the exit without even heading for the changing rooms or the showers.

"Ew! Sendoh, where are you going? You stink!"

He lifted a hand in farewell. "I'm gonna jog home so I'll take a shower there!"

"But you didn't even… change…?" Koshino's voice petered out as Sendoh disappeared through the doors that slammed loudly against the brickwork and dashed out into the late evening, still dressed in his Ryonan jersey and shorts, with just a light jacket on top and a quick change of shoes. "What the hell is up with him?" he snapped crossly at Aida nearby.

Aida could only shrug helplessly.

Sendoh, meanwhile, ran like crazy. The game had dragged on longer than he'd hoped. It was already past five. He could only hope that Rukawa might still be there at this late time.

He'd held back during the second half of the game, knowing he'd have to make this rather lengthly dash across town. It had taken him a while to come to the decision to try and find Rukawa rather than simply letting it go. He hadn't been totally sure whether it had been a genuine mistake or a purposeful message but time was running out and he was no longer prepared to sit back and worry over it.

Luckily the Ryonan school site itself was closer to Shohoku than Sendoh's house was, so the journey did not take as long as before. He was pretty out of breath though as he hurtled along the road, following the JR lines, over the stone bridge, along the shopping arcade where people dodged in surprise out of his way. The lake, the park, the fence and there. There.

He slowed and tried to catch his breath.

One lone figure. One ball. Caught for a moment in the reddish light of the dying day. He lifted, sighted, released, dropped. Fluid and graceful. Sendoh couldn't help but take a moment to watch, a small smile catching the corner of his lips.

He approached slowly, his feet quiet on the path, his eyes full of the sight of him. He couldn't help the unusual, warm admiration he felt. Even though he was alone, and the practise might well have been useless, because Rukawa Kaede hardly needed to waste yet more time taking yet more shots when all his more significant weaknesses were in other areas… areas that couldn't be improved alone on a court. But even… then. Sendoh found himself inexplicably entranced. He was quite a beautiful sight.

He reached the fence silently and caught it in his fingers.

"Rukawa?" he called him quietly.

The boy turned in surprise to see him there. His blue eyes widened, taking in the sight of him. He was flushed with running, and pretty damn sweaty too, he realised. Plus he was wearing his team jersey. Under Rukawa's scrutiny he suddenly felt a little self conscious. "Uhm..."

But Rukawa had already turned away from him, something a little unhappy in his motion, his eyes going instead towards his discarded bag, his feet pointing away.

"You can have the court," he muttered. "I was... just leaving."

Sendoh felt a sputter of uncertainty. Perhaps… he really shouldn't have come. Perhaps it hadn't been a mistake. Wasn't Rukawa making it very clear? That he didn't want him around? That he was being a nuisance? He ought to… respect that, right? His privity. Still, Sendoh felt an impulse, a compulsion, a need to… to… just… check.

"Did you give me the wrong number on purpose?" he blurted out before he could stop himself.

There was a moment of silence. Rukawa finally turned back towards him. "What?"

"Your number. I… tried to call but… it didn't work. I tried a few times actually, but..."

Rukawa was staring at him blankly.

"I uhm… wasn't sure if you were just trying to..." he shrugged. "I don't want to force you to do things you don't want to do. You can… you could just say no. I know I can be a bit pushy sometimes. I'm… really sorry. If you felt that I was too… uhm..."

Rukawa turned back around to face him. He lifted his hand.

"May I see?"

"Huh?"

"The number?"

"Oh..."

Sendoh slung his back off his back and began to root around inside, dislodging his clothes and socks, a set of headphones, and a pair of basketball shoes. From somewhere near the bottom he dragged out the rumpled paper Rukawa had given him two weeks before.

"This one," he passed it to Rukawa through the holes in the chain fence, who looked down at it.

"It's… correct..." Rukawa muttered. "8-3-9-2..."

"That's… that's a nine?" Sendoh squinted at the paper, nearly pressing his face to the fence to see. "I was sure that was a four."

"No, it's..." Rukawa read the number out to him.

"Oh, oh, I'm sorry but…" Sendoh looked up at him with an amused grin, feeling a rolling sense of relief, "your handwriting really really sucks."

Rukawa frowned at him, uncertain whether or not he was supposed to defend himself, but Sendoh appeared to be laughing and there was nothing malicious in his gaze. And, truth be told, there was some strange kind of feeling inside his own chest as well. It was light. And large. And his heart seemed to be clenching in an odd, irregular pattern. And his lips. His face. It was like he almost wanted to smile. It had all been… a misunderstanding. That… that was all.

And then he realised what he was feeling was a wide balloon of relief. The feeling not of the status quo, or of numbness, but… that sense of happiness that is all the sweeter, and all the more, for the fact that the pain that preceded it being so joyfully vanquished.

"Tomorrow," Sendoh said abruptly, and Rukawa focused his eyes on him again. "The blossoms will be gone soon. Tomorrow. Will you meet me? Ten o'clock, on the bridge at Hayama. It's easy to get there on the JR." He gazed anxiously at Rukawa, waiting for his reply.

Rukawa passed the piece of paper with his number carefully back to Sendoh through the hole in the fence. "Sure," he replied casually.

The certainty of his answer made Sendoh smile from ear to ear.

Rukawa spent a long time considering the shelves in the supermarket that evening. He wanted to make something to bring along to share with Sendoh. He was a good cook, although self-taught. And while it rarely seemed worthwhile to cook anything special solely for himself, he felt like he could maybe bring a smile to Sendoh's face if he… he…

He shook his head slightly to himself. Sendoh hardly needed encouragement to smile. He probably didn't need to do all this but…

He selected his ingredients carefully. Something a little sweet, for it would be the early morning and a nice time for lighter snacks. And nothing heavy, for it should be a light meal. And seasonal. Yes. Spring fresh for the season.

Eel, he decided, would be a nice central dish. On plain pearl rice. A few sweet mochi, home made, of course. And something… crispy too… he hunted around and found some conveniently made traditional deep-fried snacks with peanut paste and sesame seed. Yes, that would go nicely. Then he would just need to…

He finally got home a little late and set to work preparing for tomorrow. On the counter top he placed two small bottles of sake that he had purchased from the supermarket. He'd purposefully visited one further away from his home so that the shop staff wouldn't recognise him and know that he was only a high school student. Being as tall as he was, it was rare that anyone thought to question him about his age. He looked at the bottles thoughtfully. He didn't drink, generally speaking. But the sweet liquor would go better with the food rather than cans of soft drinks or overly sweetened bottles of fruit tea. He hoped Sendoh would enjoy it. He packed everything carefully, placing the food into the fridge, the drinks by the front door.

He went to bed unusually but pleasantly anticipating the next day.

Sendoh nearly fell out of bed at the sound of the telephone ringing shrilly. He waited a few rings, but it didn't cease. He groaned. "Neesan!?" he yelled at the house in general, but there was no reply. Perhaps she had gone out?

The ringing cut out for a few blessed minutes before starting up again, sounding louder and shriller even than before. "Eugh…" Sendoh managed to roll himself out of bed, his feet landing heavily on the mat. He put a hand to his hair and ruffled it sleepily. A glance at the clock beside his bed showed that it was already past nine. He blinked in surprise. He was supposed to meet Rukawa today. He sat up a little straighter. There wasn't much time. He still needed to shower and change and throw all those buns and snacks and pre-rolled sushi that he snapped up in the local convenience store into some kind of bag. And the mat. Where was the mat? He couldn't remember where it was kept.

The telephone rang and rang.

"Ok, ok!" he called out to no one in particular. He took the stairs two at a time and snatched up the house telephone from the cradle on the wall.

"Sendoh residence?" he mumbled sleepily.

He listened for a moment as a women's unfamiliar voice came down the line. Gradually the sleep dissolved from Sendoh's face and posture. "Sorry... sorry, what? Can you repeat that, please?"

"Sendoh Ayano," the woman's voice repeated. "You are her family?"

"Yes, yes, I'm… I'm her brother."

"As I said, there was a car accident. She's here at the Prefecture Hospital. Her condition is stable, it seems she has only minor injuries but the doctor is with her now. She's asked for you to..."

"Alright I'm… I'm coming. Now. Yes. Thank you. Okay, thank you. Bye."

He took an unsteady breath and replaced the phone. Neesan? He turned around and hurtled back up the stairs to get his clothes.

It was only once he was on the train that he remembered Rukawa. He glanced down at his watch. Ten thirty already. That meant he was probably waiting for him. He was still feeling rather anxious and jittery, and he hadn't eaten anything at all. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled the memorised number.

A soft voice answered. "...Sendoh?"

"Ah, ah, Rukawa I'm… I'm so sorry I..." The silence at the other end of the line was total. Sendoh closed his eyes tiredly. "I should have called you earlier but my sister she… well… actually she was in an accident this morning and I'm on my way to the hospital now. I..."

The noise of a slight breath flowed down the line.

Sendoh waited, listening. He could hear the sounds of the parties that were doubtless happening near where Rukawa was standing right now. The tinny sound of music being played on portable speakers. The low rumble of conversation, punctuated by the occasional shriek of laughter as people played games together, all bright and happy under the beautiful trees. He could imagine Rukawa, standing alone, apart, totally separate from the crowd. Perhaps with a bag of food. Or a mat. Just waiting. And… waiting. Perhaps his face would be… a little... disappointed.

Around Sendoh, by contrast, was only the familiar clanking and groaning of the train as it squealed intermittently on the tracks. The slightly musty smell of the seats. The dull fabrics and cream walls of the train. He pressed his feet together, his ankles hard against one another, his whole body unusually tight and anxious.

"I'm so sorry..." he began again. But Rukawa spoke at the same time.

"I hope… she is okay."

Sendoh let out his breath a little. "Yeah. Yeah it seems not too serious. I'm just going to… be with her and… I guess..." he trailed off.

Another quiet silence.

"Sendoh?" Rukawa said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Take… good care of her. Family. It's… the most important."

Sendoh lifted his eyes to the scenery passing the window.

"I know," he heard himself whispering, his voice slightly hoarse. "I'll… I'll make this up to you."

"Please... let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

"I... will."

"Just call."

"Okay. Okay. Uhm. Thanks."

Rukawa slipped the phone back into his pocket. He reached down and picked up his small picnic bag containing the carefully prepared food, and the two single bottles of sake. He cast his eyes out across the gathered crowds. So many people were here. There was barely a patch of grass to be seen anywhere. Children were running, shouting, playing. Adults chattering, laughing. Some teenagers were even squealing in delight as they wrestled and tickled one another. So many spirits running high and happy on this lovely, warm spring day.

Rukawa turned his eyes upwards.

No one, he noticed, was looking at the flowers.

He turned and left.

-tbc

ANs: Yes, I do intend to use every possible cliché. Why do you ask?

I'm gonna take a break from this for a few days cos it's the weekend, I've got essays to write and er – an exam coming up for which I actually do need to do some work. Because. Okay. Someone please smack me if I start writing fanfiction instead of doing work. Thanks.