I don't own Tamao, Yoh, Pirika, or Anna.
Rose 4: With Contentment
Tamao walked outside, a large basket in tow, and began the long walk to town. As she passed along the path, she paused at the garden she had recently begun. There was a wide variety of flowers, and she would have called it beautiful, except that they were all the same color: yellow. There were buttercups, sunflowers, tulips and others, but her favorites were the roses. Each one was the golden color of the sun shining brightly down on them.
She sighed, remembering that Yoh had suggested them. She knew that everyone thought she loved him, and it was true; she did love him, but as a friend rather than how everyone else believed she did. She had lived with the Asakura's for nearly her entire life. Yoh was a dear and close friend of hers. But no one would believe the truth.
She really had no physical interest in Yoh or anyone for that matter. She had always felt impartial to whether men or women were more attractive; she didn't care either way. The thought of a physical relationship chilled her and put a nauseous feeling in her stomach.
Tamao bent down and picked a buttercup that had bloomed as far as it could in the early sunshine, and continued her way to town for shopping. While she was out, she met Pirika and the two girls walked and shopped together, talking about this or that, but nothing of any sort of serious consequence. Tamao left Pirika as it began to get late, giving her the flower she had picked that morning.
That night Tamao had the hardest time getting to sleep, unable to push Pirika from her mind, but once she did, it was the best sleep in her memory. The next morning they met in the market again, and this time Pirika produced a flower. It was a sprig of china blue forget-me-nots. Tamao thanked her graciously and then the two went their own ways.
Anna saw the flower that evening and asked who it had come from.
"Oh, just a special someone," Tamao answered, smiling. She made a note to put the seeds in her garden for some contrast. The third day Tamao gave Pirika a golden tulip and Pirika gave her a bluebell. And so their days went for weeks blending into months. A year passed, and then more time. Tamao was watching her roses, waiting for the right one to bloom the right way.
Finally, just as the season began to close, the perfect rose presented itself. Tamao carefully took it from the bush, pricking herself and dripping a little blood onto the petals of the surrounding blooms.
At the market that morning, the girls gently kissed one another's cheek as they shook hands, the most intimate thing either was comfortable with. Tamao produced the rose, and Pirika thought it was beautiful.
Red faced and stuttering, Tamao shyly asked, "Pirika, w-would you like to, p-please, m-marry me?" Pirika stared at Tamao, and then smiled brightly, squealing in joy, and threw her arms around Tamao's neck.
"Of course!" she exclaimed.
Months passed and the wedding came. Years flew by and they lived happily with contentment filling both their hearts. The two young women were never more intimate than a hug and peck through their entire lives together, but loved one another immensely forever.
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