Summary: When florist Kagome meets paper boy Sesshoumaru will love blossom? Just a simple one shot.
Rating: K
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Inuyasha.
Title: Paper Flowers
Sesshoumaru was not an unhappy boy. On the contrary he was exceedingly happy. He was just bored. That was what led him to find a job on his 16th birthday. He could have done many other jobs other than the being a paperboy, but he wasn't in it for the money. He was in it more for simply something easy to do. Every day he would be up by five, securing his papers in his handy-dandy bag and proceed to begin each day on his bike. He enjoyed the quietness of the early mornings. It was in all ways peaceful to the scrawny boy pedaling down the rode.
Yes, I said scrawny.
Sesshoumaru was definitely not in his peek condition at age 16. He was unusually tall, with flowing silverish hair. He had not yet developed a fine chiseled chest or lost his complete babyish face. But I never loved him any less then than I did now. Though he was a very bright child, he was, how shall we say, a bit unobservant. He would stare straight ahead and toss his papers half-heartedly towards the directions of the door. It took him a whole week to even notice he was hitting the widow and not the door.
I never did tire of seeing him ride by on his old rusty red bike. I think I shocked the poor boy when he finally noticed me staring that morning. After about three weeks he finally noticed me in the window. I was a little over 15 and had been assisting my aunt Kaede at her flower shop on Maple Street. I don't remember exactly when I started working there, but I'd certainly been there a while. I always was up at 6 opening the shop up and preparing it for customers. It was only a month till Valentines after all. Lots of the time I'll have three or four customers who arrive real early in the morning to pick up a surprise before their spouse wake up, or if someone died, or went into the hospital over the night. I remember that day was relatively slow. I had only one order and he had left about ten minutes ago. I had wandered to the window in hopes of catching a glimpse of the paperboy, but I didn't see him yet, so I had busied myself with trimming up one plant or another.
It wasn't to long before I saw his bike come over the hill and glide casually down it all the while he flung his paper out to the awaiting yards. I had paused in my trimming watching him, and I remember think how well he had gotten at flinging the paper, almost like controlling a whip.
That thought had just crossed my mind when suddenly,
TWAP
The paper smacked against the door. I had jumped startled and my attention immediately focused on the boy who so rudely interrupted my thoughts. The poor boy had swerved to avoid a car. His bike crashed straight on with a trashcan. I hurriedly scurried out of the flower shop and across the street to the tangled mess. The boy sat there with a banana peel hanging from his once lovely silver hair and his jeans wear torn where a now scrapped knee protruded. The bike of course was fine.
"Are you alright?" I asked out of habit helping the boy to his feet.
"Yeh thanks." He replied picking up his bike. He was obviously embarrassed. I plucked the banana peel from his hair and tossed it back over to the mess from the trashcan.
"Come on over to the shop and I'll get you cleaned up some." I said whipping my hands on my apron.
"Thanks, but I should probably go." He stated as he turned to continue on his route.
"Nonsense now come on." I said latching onto his arm and pulling him back over to my shop. The boy said nothing as I held the door for him as he placed his bike against the outside wall.
"Have a seat behind to counter." I said heading to the bathroom to get a clean wet rag and so other first aid things. He nodded and nervously sat on the only chair behind the counter and clasped his hands in front of him. I returned and squatted down in front of him lightly cleaning the wound on his knee and placing a band aid over it. I couldn't take the silence much more.
"So what's your name?" I asked causing him to jump slightly at the sudden sound of my voice.
"Sesshoumaru. Yours?" He asked softly.
"Kagome." I stood and picked up my first aid kit and smiled happily at him.
"Welcome to the Feudal Flower Shop. It's my aunt's shop, but I'm really the only one that works here at this time." He nodded slightly and I returned the kit to its rightful place. I headed back up to the front and picked up some roses I had to arrange for a man's 50th anniversary by noon.
"The bathroom is in the back if you want to clean up." I said setting to flowers on the cabinet and fetching a vase to put them in. He nodded and left to clean while I began my daily duty of arranging flowers. I loved flowers, the pure beauty and smell combined gave each one a distinct uniqueness about them. Sesshoumaru returned and stated that he needed to continue on his paper route before he got in trouble.
"Alright, I need to get back to work anyways. Stop by sometime, it'd be nice to talk to someone again since most people aren't up this early." I said walking him to the door. He nodded and thanked my once more before getting on his bike and paddling away. I stared at him about two minutes after I left and then returned to my flowers.
We saw each other after that every morning for several months. Normally we merely nodded at each other signifying our recognition for each other. Eventually he'd stop in for a while to talk about school, or parents. I didn't mind, I got lonely and it was nice having someone around once in a while. As time went on he began buying flowers from my shop for an anniversary, birthday, or some other significant reason. I of course was always happy to help him pick the perfect flower.
Over time when I was having a bad day, or if he had passed by he would occasionally stop and deliver a gift for me. I would always tear at the thin place surrounding my gift, and open a box filled with paper flowers. His specialty was making red paper roses. I always carefully removed to flower and ogled at its beauty. Everyone was unique. How he made it I have no idea, but I loved it all the more for its mystery. It was sweet and simple like him. Eventually I began to receive too many of them and was forced to place them in a vase as a sort of display. As time went buy people began to inquire as to how they were made, who made them, were they for sell. I asked Sesshoumaru if he would care to make the magnificent flowers to share with others.
Now Sesshoumaru is 20 years old, and finely toned I might add from his runs as a scrawny paperboy. He now sits quietly at the counter shaping his flowers in his secretive way I still have yet to master. The only difference now, he no longer makes them alone.
The End
Hope you enjoyed it. Tootles.
- Aslan