Day 2: Roses and Ribbons

It's here again. It always does, on White Day, every year, without fail.

Maka picks up the large bouquet of white roses tied together by a pretty white lacey ribbon, that was previously sitting innocently in front of her apartment door. She then cautiously turns her head left and right, as if she could catch the culprit if she scrutinizes the empty hall hard enough.

Frowning, she purses her lips and brings the flower back inside. The only flower vase she's ever had is already waiting in the living room corner, ribbon from last year still tied around its neck.

While her hand is busy transferring the pretty flowers into the vase, her mind is buzzing to puzzle who her secret admirer is. Are they even qualified to be called a secret admirer?

This could be a gesture of returning Valentine's day gifts. But if it's the case, why does it have to be anonym?

She muses. First of all, she only gives valentine chocolates to a very few people; her Papa (though only very begrudgingly), her god brother Seb Starling, her childhood friend Kid Morton, her best friend Soul Evans, and Soul's brother Wes.

Papa, Wes, and Kid are all flamboyant enough to give flowers. But they're also extra enough to be knowledgeable in flower language to know that white roses are not something you give to someone without a romantic thought in mind. Because she happens to read a flower book once and knows that white roses are originally meant love, something that currently being held by their red version. In fact, it symbolizes young love and eternal loyalty.

Her cheeks turn pink at the thought of receiving someone's romantic love.

To distract herself, she's back to thinking about her valentine list. Papa usually showers her with jewelries and dinner dates on White Day. In fact, she'll have one with him tonight. Wes and Kid gives her nice dresses and accessories, but Maka knows it's more like spoiling their little sister, as Wes and Kid are both engaged. Seb Starling has a mental age of a twelve-years-old and certainly not mature enough to even consider flowers as a legit gift for a woman (she just received a free membership ticket to the local gym as his White Day present, what even).

And Soul… Soul doesn't believe in valentines and all that crap.

Maka's heart warms at the thought of him, however. He always complains when receiving chocolates, and flat out whined when he found his locker stuffed full of gifts back in high school. But he always receives her chocolates, even eats them right away, albeit with a fake grumble and half-hearted complaints.

He doesn't give her anything in particular. Partly because she had playfully said she doesn't need his gifts if he's always complaining about her chocolates, and partly because he'd said he would only return a gift from someone he loves.

He never does.

A part of her artlessly wishes that it was him who sent those roses, but she dismisses the thought right away. Her shameless unconditional love for him is best not to be known. He's already being her best friend and the only man she wholly trusts at all times. They already operate pretty greatly, supporting each other and mocking the world together. No need to complicate things.

"Maka, could you please visit the florist and confirm everything?"

Maka turns to see Sonya, Wes's fiancée, shoving a paper to her hands. The Russian cellist looks a little bit overwhelmed, something Maka suspects is caused by the wedding's forthcoming date. The couple had decided to not receive any help from the Evanses nor the Shakovsky, wanting the wedding to be more personal and not turned out to be another posh gathering of elitist musicians. It doesn't help that her fiancé can be a little airheaded in organizing something, so Maka had volunteered herself to help.

"Wait, Sonya! I said I'll go!" Soul's voice comes from behind them before Maka could answer.

"You're needed to supervise the band and choosing the music. You know Wes won't choose anything you don't approve seriously, and that man needs forever to decide something!" Sonya sticks out a finger to him.

"But—"

"Soul, I have the records! Come here!" Wes called from the other room.

Sonya tilts her head as if saying 'See?' and Soul sends a low curse to his brother. Maka beams, "It's okay, Soul. I'll go."

"But, Maka—"

"Soul!"

"Goddammit, Wes! Just wait a fucking second!"

Maka laughs and picks her coat, already walking to the door. "It's fine really, Soul. Go before he breaks all the windows calling your name. Is there anything else I have to do, Sonya?"

"Hmm, maybe you can visit Liz after that? You're the only bridesmaid who haven't done last-minute fitting."

"'Kay."

"Wait, Maka—"

"Soleil Arthur Evans!"

Maka lets out one more giggles when Soul's curses ring loudly and slips away from the house.

The florist turns out to be very efficient, so Maka doesn't have to do much. She even got a spare time before her dress-fitting session with Liz, so she starts to look around the flower shop. It's owned by Wes and Soul's childhood friend, Anya Hepburn, surprisingly. It has a wide range of rare flowers and is known of its pretty custom-made bouquet decorations.

Maka has just admired the crystal chains in the bouquet accessory section when her eyes catch a familiar design of white ribbon.

It's the same one as the ribbon currently tied around her white rose vase.

"It's our special White Day ribbon, Miss."

Maka jumps a little and whips her head to find an employee smiling at her. Her name tag spells 'Tsugumi'.

"Our shop releases limited edition ribbons every holiday, and it's the last one from this year's White Day batch." She holds out the receipt on the wedding expenses and ask Maka to sign it.

Maka blinks and stops her pen halfway through writing her name, "Wait—it's a limited edition?"

"Yes."

"You can't find it in other shops?"

"No, Miss."

Maka gulps. Then… then it means her secret bouquet sender is a customer of this very flower shop.

Half of her wants to demand the employee to tell her, but the other half shuts it down, reasoning that there's no way they're going to let her look at their customer list. And frankly, for all she knows, her person could very well order everything on anonym.

Tsugumi receives the receipt, strips a copy and gives it back to Maka, unaware of the inner turmoil in her head. But when she looks at Maka's name, she immediately brightens. "Oh, so you're Maka Albarn!"

Maka falls back to earth. "Excuse me?"

Tsugumi giggles, "I always wonder what kind of person Mr. Soul's girlfriend is. It is endearing to watch him so flustered every time he orders your roses."

What?

Maka's heart stops beating for a second before starting in double speed.

"Mr. Soul?!"

"Yes," Tsugumi tilts her head, a little confused. "He always goes here for your White Day presents, Miss."

"It's… him?"

"Well, of course—oh!" Tsugumi's eyes widen, both of her hands flying to cover her mouth. "Y-you didn't know?! Oh—oh my god, I'm so sorry…"

"Tsugumi!"

A beautiful blonde girl strides over and gives Tsugumi a frown before she turns to Maka. "I'm very sorry, Miss Albarn. I didn't intend for you to find out this way."

Maka demands, "Is it really him?!"

The blonde girl, who Maka later knows is Anya Hepburn herself, sighs, "Yes. He had always requested for anonymity." She grumbles something that suspiciously sounds like 'what a chicken!' under her breath.

Maka bolts out of the shop, planning to murder one Evans brother.

"Tell him to just man up already!" Anya shouts behind her, but Maka's heart is too overwhelmed by this revelation to hear that.

It's him.

It's always been him.

She had told him all about the white roses. About the ribbons. About her wonder.

But he only laughed.

He only laughed and teased her whenever she talked about the roses.

After all this time she's been murdering her own hopes that he's the one sending the flowers; after she'd killed her own feelings so many times.

How dare he.

How dare he!

She doesn't remember her drive back to Wes's place. All she knows is six different methods to grill her best friend she'd thought along the way.

He'd lied by omission.

He'd watched her wondering and hoping like an idiot. All. This. Time.

Maka Albarn hates to be lied to. And Soul Evans definitely knows that.

Maka storms Wes's door open to reveal three shocked faces. "Soul Evans! We need to talk!"

"About what?" Soul answered dumbly. God. She wanna slap him.

Sonya, always the best in reading the atmosphere, pulls Wes's arm and stands. "Wesley, dear, I think it's the time we pick up your tux from the tailor."

"But wait, Sonya—" Wes protests, clearly sensing the forthcoming entertainment.

"If we don't go right now we'll be stuck in the traffic," Sonya pulls harder, ignoring her fiancé's whines and drags him out of the room.

Maka makes a mental note to thank her later. But now, she has a best friend to interrogate.

Soul appears to sense her anger, sitting straighter as she made her way to stand right in front of him. "Uhh… Am I in trouble?"

Oh, he damn is.

"It's you, isn't it?" she slits her eyes, almost hearing him gulps.

"Wha—oh…" he cringes when she sticks out Hepburn Florist's receipt. "Yeah…"

"Why did you keep it from me?"

He makes a face, eyes shying away. "Just because."

Maka leans in, placing her fists on her hips, "Soul Evans, speak clearly to my face!"

He sighs, pulling back his eyes to face hers with a grumble.

"Why did you do it?"

He just stares at her for a minute before sighs again and slumps back to his chair. Maka knows she wins. "I just… I just don't want to destroy what we have. I'm so tired of seeing you fake a laugh every time your friends ask about your love life or hearing your self-deprecating jokes that you're not exactly a girlfriend material," he mutters exasperatedly.

Maka's mouth parts slowly.

Yes, she always feels a little glum whenever she thinks about her love life, but part of it was because she had to conceal her ever growing feelings for him.

She had no idea he thought that way.

"I value our friendship so much but I—I kind of really love you too, so I… I just… I want you to know, at least, that there's someone out there who's not only liking you that way, but also devoted to you and willing to sacrifice everything for you. You're an astounding person, Maka, I want you to be loved. But—but I don't know how you'll react. And I sort of… scared that I'll break our friendship. I have no confidence that you'll—"

His following words are cut off by Maka's lips on his.

Silly, silly boy.

He's frozen by pure shock at first, but after a moment, he melts into her mouth and wraps his arms around her as she runs her fingers through his hair and deepens their kiss.

Ah, just how many times had she dreamed of this exact moment?

Out of breath, they stared at each other giddily, foreheads touching, neither succeeded to hide their goofy smiles.

"But why it had to be white roses?"

Soul smiles sheepishly, his dimples five times as charming from up close. "Well, uh… You babbled about it once, after you read those stupid flower books, that white roses used to be the symbol of romantic love, and eh—it also symbolizes devotions and eternal loyalty or something, so yeah… It kinda fits."

Maka can't help the sudden burst of affection.

"Dork."

He's finally started delivering her white roses in person the next year. A change that Maka prefers far too much than finding it sitting anonymously in front of her door.

On White Day, three years later, he's standing on her doorstep, a single white rose tied in a white ribbon in hand.

Maka raises her eyebrow at the change, but quickly turns ten shades of red when she realizes a ring is also tied in the ribbon.

She takes the rose and brings it to her chest, sending him a bashful look. He only grins nervously.

"Dork."