6:15 PM and I am ready to go. I check myself out in the mirror one more time—jeans, white T-shirt, and a black leather jacket are good enough for this, I decide. I mean, it's not like I'm going anywhere fancy, it's just Sora's house.

I sigh as I try to comb my hair right. I was dating this hairdresser about a year back—Lumina. It lasted a week or two. I'll admit, she kind of was a rebound girl when I was too late trying to get this other girl I really liked. It was that, plus the fact that she was a little too…capricious, for my taste, that I sort of ended it. I thought we were cool, but, guess she got the last laugh. About a month ago, I went in to get my hair cut, and she just so happened to be the only person open to do it. It was once she started stroking my hair ("I've always liked how silky it is…and you don't see silver hair too often!" she crooned), I knew I made a mistake. I wanted it trimmed to shoulder length, like I normally did but…well, let's just say I ended up with something much shorter and way worse than what my mother used to give me at, like, five years old. It's starting to grow back, but it's still gonna take a couple months for it to be restored to its former glory.

Moral of the story: don't date crazy hairdressers.

Well, after a couple of minutes with my comb, I've decided that this is probably as good as I'm gonna look tonight. I grab my phone and wallet off my dresser, stuff 'em in my pockets, and go.

First stop: Gainsborough Flowers. I pass by it every time I head over to their house. Amaya and I walked by there the other day—that was the last time I hung out with her.

It's Thursday afternoon, and Amaya and I have just completed the last of our final exams. We ran into each other as we were leaving campus, and I offered to walk home with her. The past week and a half or so had been obnoxiously hectic, in preparation for our tests, so the two of us haven't really gotten a chance to spend any proper time together for a while.

"How'd it go for you?" she asks as we start on our way. She has a textbook clutched to her chest in her left hand, her right arm on the strap of her…I think it's called a tote bag? She uses it to carry the rest of her crap in it, anyway.

"Not too bad, I don't think," I respond, right hand in my pocket, left hand holding up the backpack I have slung over my shoulder. "I haven't found calculus to be too challenging, anyway. How 'bout you?"

"I think I did okay…but I don't wanna jinx it!"

"It was biology, right? I'm sure you did fine. That's your strongest subject, after all," I reassure her.

"I hope so…augh, thinking about it is just gonna stress me out more!" she cries, ducking her head down.

"Well, I better stay away from you if that happens, then, huh?" I retort, giving her a light bump on the head with my fist.

"Come on, I already apologized for that! Numerous times!" Her cheeks start to turn red. I can't help but snicker while remembering the incident:

It was the beginning of study period. I decided I'd spend the day studying in the school library—it was quiet, and the atmosphere was perfect to get me focused. I walked in pretty early so I could get a spot and avoid the "cubicle wars"; people were practically selling their first-borns in order to ensure they had a spot to study in the rather small space. When I entered, I saw Amaya out of the corner of my eye. Elbow on the desk, her hand held her head up, while she used her other hand to furiously scribble down some notes. Her long, black hair was tied up in a bun, so it was easy to see her face without all of it in the way. I decided to go up and say hi to her, before I found a cubby of my own to study without any distractions. I crept up behind her and gently tapped her on the shoulder, expecting her to turn around to give me a tender smile and polite hello.

Boy, was I way off-base.

My fingertips barely skimmed her shoulder when her elbow planted itself into my gut.

"It's like I told you, I get a little…on edge, when I'm stressed out," she confesses, head still down in shame.

"Lesson definitely learned," I chuckle, bumping her on the head again. She glances up at me, and when she sees my smirk, she starts giggling.

I think the thing that surprises me the most, though, is that this girl, one of the most cheerful, optimistic people I know, turns into…well, that, when faced with exams. I mean, she does well in school, so it's not like there was any real fear that she'd totally bomb or something. Man, I'd hate to see her freak out in some sort of real-life pressure situation.

"Still, that definitely wasn't acceptable on my part. I'm so, so sorry, again," she cries. I thought it was kinda cute the first couple of times she apologized, all frazzled, but after what was probably the hundredth time, it's been starting to get a little ridiculous.

"I already told you, it's really not that big of a deal," I sigh. "Besides," I perk back up, "these abs are made of steel. No way your little elbow could destroy 'em."

"Oh, now you're just being a tool!" she scoffs, while she playfully shoves me. She's fun when she's in this mood.

Our lighthearted banter continues, until Amaya suddenly becomes distracted.

"Ugh, it always smells so good whenever I walk by here!" she states. It's when she points it out that I notice the floral aroma, and realize we're walking by the famous Gainsborough Flowers.

I notice her glancing through the large, glass windows at the front of the store. The elderly shop-owner's in there, but she seems occupied with some blonde girl. Peering further inside, I see a rather large interior, filled with tons of aisles of black shelves with tall white vases, each with its own assortment of an individual type of flower. The walls are all glass, and behind them are even more groups of flowers. The combinations of all the colors definitely make it look vibrant in there.

"Look at how pretty they are," Amaya ogles.

"Is that some sort of subliminal message to try to get me to buy you a dozen roses, or something?" I smirk.

"Nah, don't waste your munny," she chuckles. "Besides," she begins, as she continues on walking, "I wouldn't want roses anyway."

"What? I thought every girl would want roses," I reply, as I catch up to her. "Aren't they, like, the 'ultimate romantic gesture,' or some crap like that?"

"Well, sure, they are beautiful, and it definitely is a flattering gesture but…it's kind of unoriginal. Like, any schmoe can just go into a flower shop and ask for a dozen red roses without a second thought," she shrugs. "And of course, the girl will be flattered; we love getting little gifts like that every now and then. But, when you ask her what her favorite flower is, it usually isn't a rose. It's like…say I bought you some cake."

"I wouldn't mind some right now, actually," I smirk.

"I think we have some at home, if you'd like. Unless Sora ate it all!" she smiles.

"I'm kidding," I sneer, bumping her head again.

"I'm gonna get a concussion if you keep doing that," she sniggers. "But, anyway, like I was saying, hypothetically speaking, say I bought you some cake. Your favorite is lemon cake—"

"Actually, I'm a fan of Black Forest cake, myself."

"Okay, fine, your favorite is Black Forest cake. But say I bought you a white cake, then. Everyone can appreciate a regular white cake, right? But, if I bought you Black Forest cake, and I told you I got it for you because I knew it was your favorite, you'd appreciate it even more, right? It's the same with flowers. Sure, roses are sweet, but she'd be even happier if you bought her her favorite. It shows that you care enough to remember."

"Alright, but let's be honest here. How many guys actually ask the girl they're buying flowers for what their favorites are? What else are you supposed to do?"

"Well, then you could be just like any other guy, and buy roses without a second thought. Or, you could think of what message you're actually trying to convey with them."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you heard of what they call 'the language of flowers'?" When she sees me shaking my head, she continues: "Well, every flower represents some sort of emotion, or adjective that you associate with the person you're planning on giving it to. For example, you've got the classic red rose, which actually has quite a beautiful meaning: 'true love, stronger than any thorn,' or something along those lines, anyway. Now, as beautiful as that is, I find that most people don't actually contemplate that symbolism when they buy them. Most guys just look at roses and say, 'hey, chicks dig roses,' shrug, and buy them. They don't actually think about what they're trying to tell the girl when they give them to her.

"Now, one thing I love about Gainsborough Flowers—one thing everyone should take advantage of— is the fact that they have the meanings of all the flowers on each of their respective description cards. So, all you really need is an extra ten minutes or so to skim over the ones that you're drawn to, and pick the most appealing one."

"That's…a lot more complicated than it needs to be," I contemplate. To be honest, I think it's a little pretentious. "It's the thought that's supposed to count, right?"

"Yeah, but, knowing you put in the extra effort sure makes the present a whole lot more meaningful," she muses, as we approach her house.

"I guess that's true," I agree, as I sling my right arm around her shoulders. I sense her lean into me slightly.

"Thanks for walking me home," she says, as we come to a stop in front of her house.

"Don't mention it," I respond, as I release her. "You doin' anything tonight?"

"Yeah, a couple of the girls asked me to hang out a few days ago. Post-finals celebrations," she says, excitedly. Well, looks like I'll have to find something else to do with my night.

"Have fun tonight, then. But, not too much," I wink. She rolls her eyes at me, but she still has a grin on her face.

"I'll see you later," she says softly.

"Yeah," I say, as I lean in to kiss her good-bye. Tender and gentle as always, it lasts a few seconds before I feel her smile and pull away.

"Text me?" she asks, still beaming.

"Of course."

And with that, she turns around to go into her house. I stick around to watch her walk up the stairs and across the front porch. It's as she opens the door to step inside, I realize I need to ask her something:

"By the way, what are your favorite flowers?"

She turns around, smirking. "They're—"

Shit.

I've arrived at Gainsborough Flowers and entered the goddamn store only to forget. What kind. Of flowers. I am. Supposed. To buy.

"Hey, Riku!" a voice exclaims.

"Aren't you supposed to be on your date with Kairi, Sora?" I ask, trying to sound as casual as I can despite my aggravated state, as I turn to face him. He's got that same stupid grin he always has, and he's holding a bouquet with a bunch of really colorful flowers.

"Yeah, I'm headed over to pick her up right now! I just stopped by to get her some lilies, they're her favorite."

Oh, screw this kid.

"Something the matter, Riku? You look kinda confused," he says. Well, I can't let him know I forgot what his sister's favorite flowers are.

"Well, I was gonna pick something up for Amaya but…I have no idea what she likes," I reply coolly.

"Hmm…to be honest, I don't really know what her favorite is. But, there're these cool description cards for each kind of flower in here, which tell you what it symbolizes and stuff! Maybe you can get some sorta inspiration from those?"

No, really. Screw this kid.

"Sounds like a plan, bro," I state, nonchalantly. He's beaming, as if he's proud of giving me some revolutionary idea. I let him have his victory; he's gonna need all the confidence he can get for his night.

"You know, I'm pretty surprised you actually took my advice!"

"Huh?"

"I told you to get her flowers! I didn't really expect you to actually do it…and besides, I know she would be happy to see you, regardless. But, I'm sure she'll be even happier now!"

"R-right…" I say, scratching the back of my neck while I think. You know, he does have a point. It's not like she knows I was gonna buy her anything.

"Well, anyway, sorry to cut this short! I've got a reservation to catch and, well, this could be the most important night of my life so far, so, I guess I better run, huh?" he reasons aloud, sheepishly. I can tell he's nervous. As much as I want to capitalize on as many jokes at his expense as possible, I realize he's kind of in need of some sort of moral support.

"You got this, bro," I reassure him, patting him on the shoulder. "I've told you everything you need to know. You'll be fine."

"Yeah, you're right, man! Alright, I'll catch ya later!" His grin returns, and he turns around to run out the door. He pulls his phone out of his pocket as he does so.

"See ya," I reply. His eyes are on his cell phone while he's checking something on it, and he crashes into this red-headed guy with weird facial tattoos who's just entered the store.

"Watch where you're going, yo!" he shouts at Sora.

"Oh, sorry, won't happen again!" Sora replies, as he stows the phone away in his pocket and continues speedily walking out the shop. The guy sticks around a couple seconds and glances over a few types of flowers, and then spins around to go outside again. Strange.

And now, I'm brought back to my previous dilemma. I mean, she told me what her favorites were two days ago, and I can't remember what they were. That's not gonna make me look good. But then again, I just bumped into Sora here, so if he finds out that I didn't get her anything and brings it up in front of her, that's probably gonna make everything worse. Then again, he's probably going to be basking in afterglow for, like, the next week, and he's just gonna forget about this.

Yep. Decision made. I'll just be on my way now.

"Riku?" says someone with a silvery voice, just as I turn around to leave. Oh shit. It is not who I think it is.

I turn back around to see her. The neat, golden hair. The sparkling blue eyes. The glowing, porcelain skin. The elegant, subtle smile. The perfect posture.

It is who I think it is.

"Stella," I reply, composing myself, "long time, no see." The thing that surprises me, though—more than just bumping into her out of nowhere—is the fact that my heart is still beating at a normal pace.

It's not a secret that I went out with my fair share of girls in high school. Hot, cute, fun, somber, crazy—you name a type, and I can probably come up with a girl I've dated to match. Problem is, none of them ever developed into something…special, I guess, is the word. Of course, there's no one else to blame for that but myself. I knowingly went out with all the wrong types of girls, and I never let myself get too attached to any of them. Stella's the reason why. No, she wasn't my first love or heartbreak or whatever cliché that left me mentally scarred, or anything crazy like that. She was, however, and still is, the only girl that I've had a real crush on. And I've learned that I don't do well with crushes.

The first time I met Stella was when I was a freshman in high school. Sure, DI High is small in retrospect, but it was not easy navigating that place those first couple of days. I was trying to find some sort of science class, and she, somehow sensing my confusion, performed her duty as an upperclassman and came up to me to help point me in the right direction. From that one encounter, I was a goner. Sure, there are a lot of cute girls on the island. I'd even say some of them are hot. But Stella was the first girl that I found to be absolutely beautiful.

I interacted with her several times over the years following, but I tried to avoid her as much as I could. There was one thing I couldn't stand, and that was the fact that around her, I couldn't be myself. My thoughts and speech became almost incoherent whenever she was in my vicinity; her elegance and grace pretty much casted some sort of spell on me, and I was pretty sure she thought I was a blithering idiot. She was always too polite—too kind to show it, though.

Kairi was the only one who knew about the way I felt (Sora almost caught on a couple of times, but it wasn't too hard to convince him otherwise). Girl's a very keen observer of body language, and I guess she'd see my loss of composure whenever Stella was around. Oftentimes, she'd try to convince me to go up and ask Stella out, and that she might interpret my unintended dorkiness as "natural" and "cute" and other shit that apparently some chicks like. I never really believed her, especially since that crap wasn't natural for me. Eventually, after about three years of it being beat into my head by my dear red-headed friend that "this girl has to be the one, no one else makes you feel that way!" and other ideas along those lines, I finally decided to take her advice and came up with a plan to just go up and try to casually ask her out at the Island Festival last year. I mean, Kairi had a point. As dumb as it is, no one made me feel that way she did.

I'm pretty lucky my plan to ask her out wasn't anything too sappy or romantic, though, 'cause trying to cause some kinda scene like that could have been pretty embarrassing for both of us when I found her holding this guy Noctis's hand. Apparently, the two of them had been going out for a while but kept it under wraps since their parents hated each other or something, but I assume they're fine now since the relationship is public. Regardless, I can pretty easily say that that wasn't one of the happier days of my life. Actually, I'll admit, I was pretty crushed that day. Ever since then, I've pretty much avoided her.

Sora had it tougher, though, in retrospect. He destroyed the booth that served the Island's best chowders, bisques, and soups while a few of us were playing Ultimate Frisbee. Wakka threw it a little too hard and, well…they won't serve him there anymore. I say this because, at least this year's Festival, although more embarrassing for me than my previously mentioned debacle, actually turned out with a much better result…

"Yeah, how have you been?" she asks, in that graceful tone, bringing me back into the present.

"Not bad, and you?" I respond, in an effortlessly cool tone.

"Great! So glad finals are over! And I just started working here a couple of days ago, it's been a lot of fun," she beams.

"Oh, that's cool." I think back to the other day when I walked by here. The shop owner was talking to a blonde girl, it must have been her. It's funny, I used to pretty much have this almost sixth sense for her. I'd be able to tell she was nearby just by the sound of her footsteps. Sad, I know. But, hey, as of a couple of days ago, I actually saw her and couldn't identify her. That says something, right?

"And what have you been up to? How did finals go for you?" Before I can respond, someone else cuts in.

"Riku! Honey, it's been a long time!" The voice belongs to none other than the famous Elmyra Gainsborough (or 'Aunt Elmyra,' as we all affectionately dub her), founder and long-time owner of this shop. Everyone knew her, and somehow, she remembered everyone, too. She's like everyone's third grandma, with her kind, droopy eyes and wrinkly but radiant smile; there's no way you can't feel welcome in this shop whenever she's around. "So, are we buying flowers for your mother again, dear?"

Oh, right. The only time I ever come in here is to buy Mom stuff for Mother's Day.

"Oh, not this time," I reply, trying to be as polite as I can.

"Aww, are they for Amaya? I heard you two were going out!" Stella interjects. How in the hell…? I mean, it's not that I really care that she knows; I'm just surprised. I haven't talked to this chick in over a year, and it's not like Amaya and I are big in the PDA department. "I was talking to Selphie some time a couple of weeks ago, and we saw the two of you walking together! She said something about you two dating." Oh, that explains it. Note to self: make sure Selphie is nowhere near the vicinity of any other possible first date I ever go on.

"Oh, wow, is this true, Riku?" Aunt Elmyra asks, excitedly.

"Uh, yeah, I guess—" I start.

"Oh, that is absolutely wonderful, dear!" she interrupts. "She comes in here sometimes with that adorable little sister of hers. I believe her younger brother was in here a few moments ago, too!"

"Yeah, I bumped into him while he was headed out."

"Oh, he and that Kairi are such a beautiful couple! His sister is quite the catch, too," she winks. "Polite, intelligent, and quite pretty!" I just nod, not quite knowing how to react.

"Yeah, I hung out with her a lot at the beginning of the semester, she's really sweet!" Stella interjects. "Although, things got pretty crazy with schoolwork and stuff so I haven't seen her in a while. How did you guys get together?" Oh, screw her and those sparkly doe eyes.

Man, I hate this story.

"Er…"

Waking up without an alarm clock is nice. First things first, gotta check my phone…10 AM? A little later than I had hoped I'd wake up, but that's not too bad. On a day like today, the real fun stuff doesn't start until around the afternoon, anyway, and it just gets better from there.

And, you know what? I have a feeling that something…different, I guess, is gonna happen at today's Festival.

A/N: Hello, hello again guys! Hope y'all are enjoying this so far...This chapter originally was gonna be a lot longer with that last flashback, but I decided to cut it into two since that was making this chapter into quite the behemoth. Hopefully that next chapter should be up soon! This also means this fic is gonna be 5-6 chapters, instead of the original 4-5 that I planned.

Lol can you spot all the Final Fantasy characters I've included? I originally wanted to use Aerith or Tifa or even Rinoa instead of Stella, but in wanting to keep this semicanon, I went with the latter (Yes I am of the belief that Rinoa's existance in KH canon is implied). I know much isn't known about her character, so I just went off the basic description Nomura's given so far. Hopefully she's somewhat IC. Same goes for the FF XIII girls; haven't played the games, just used the FF Wiki aha...hopefully it came out okay!

Again, please fav/follow/ ESPECIALLY REVIEW. good, bad, flame, let me know so i can continue/improve!

Also special shout outs to ANP Productions (especially for the Black Forest cake idea PLUS a future joke ;))and mystic moogle! Y'all gave me a ton of feedback and support and really kept me motivated to get this all banged out, I really appreciate it! PPL CHECK OUT THEIR ISH CAUSE ITS AMAZEBALLS.