Disclaimer: I dis my claim.
A/N: Here's Mina's chapter. I'd like to reiterate my desire for you all to go onto my profile and answer my poll…I'm sure I'll bother you with that again at the end of this chapter. Just a warning, there.
Anyway, my usual tribute to my glorious reviewers (The ones who I haven't already commented upon): Nyridian (--I have a note for you at the bottom of this chapter), ultimatebishoujo21.
Now, on with the show:
Courtship: Daffodil
Minako Aino was fickle.
She herself would be the first one to admit to this fact. She'd do it proudly, too. With emphasis on all the right words and dramatic intonation.
At which point Rei would probably tell her to stuff it and stop being a diva, but that was beside the point.
Mina was fickle about clothing, jewelry, music, food, candy, movie stars, movies, books, animals, colors, lighting fixtures and Disney Princess preferences.
What she was most fickle about, however, was flowers. Or men.
Truthfully, she didn't make much of a distinction between the two. Mina would classify her dates by the flowers they brought her. Or maybe she would classify the flowers by the men. Really, it was all a, as Mina herself put it upon being questioned, "Muddy ball of wax."
However she came to the conclusion, Mina found that certain flowers held particular connotations for her long after the men who assigned those connotations had left her life altogether.
Carnations, for instance, were forever ruined for her after having been given by a rather obnoxiously self-centered man who had (in a fit of irritation from Rei) been deemed to be "more enamored of his horrid yellow tweed jacket than of anything else." Mina could no longer stand the sight of tulips because they brought to mind a beau so obsequious that it was disgusting (she always chuckled to remember Serena's gagging as he debated at length whether Mina's eyes were better comparable to the "luminous moon" or the "purest blue crystal"). Chrysanthemums made her retch as she recalled a particularly messy affair involving a man who simply could not keep his hands off of other girls (it had ended abruptly between them after he had attempted to seduce Lita in their apartment kitchen).
Truth was, Mina was running out of flowers that had any positive connotations for her. She would often bemoan this fact, claiming that "all my relationships end badly! Is there something wrong with me?"
And it would be up to Ami to explain: No, there was nothing wrong with Mina. It could be mathematically proven that, considering the number of dates Mina went on and the number of repeats she had for flowers (roses, for instance, were getting particularly tiring. They came up a lot. Mina had yet to fall for a man who gave her roses, and she doubted she ever would), it was just about inevitable that something bad happen in connection with most flowers, and, since Mina was such a drama queen, she would, naturally, remember the bad feelings for each floral specimen simply so she could have something to gripe about.
Mina did not find this analysis to be particularly complimentary, and therefore decided to disregard it. This (in Ami's opinion) didn't make it any less true, but Mina's friends humored her and her comically large ego, anyway.
***
Mina liked to blame Rei for the circumstances under which she met Kevin. After all, it had been Rei who had told her (not asked, Rei never asked) to come on a double date that night. Rei, in turn, blamed Jason: after all, it was he who waited until the last minute to tell Rei that his friend Kevin was coming along on their date and, oh, would you mind bringing some company for him?
When confronted with this accusation, Jason preferred to blame Zach. He could have blamed Kevin (it would have been more logical to blame Kevin), but Jason just liked blaming Zach for things. Cousin's prerogative.
Whoever was to blame, it didn't change the fact that Mina had been dragged (okay, not completely dragged, per say) to a little restaurant in the middle of nowhere and forced (okay, not forced, exactly) to sit across from a moderately attractive (but, really, white hair?) but completely unresponsive young man.
Seriously. Once Rei and Jason started talking, Mina found, it was near impossible to find one's way into the conversation. Therefore, she loquaciously attempted to engage the stubbornly stoic Kevin.
"So, well, they already told you I'm Mina, and I got dragged here by dear Rei—who probably doesn't have the least idea that I'm talking about her even though she's sitting right next to me—nope, no response—and I suppose you're in the same situation with Jason over here."
"Yes."
"What do you think you're going to eat? I always get water, of course, or iced tea—I think my cooking-crazed roommate has spoiled me for artificial flavorings and corn syrup and whatnot, or whatever's in soft drinks. But I always have trouble figuring out what to eat. The pasta's nice, but I haven't had ravioli in such a long time…do you have any idea what you'll eat?"
(It was almost unheard of. She had finished her entire statement without once being interrupted. It was very unusual. And very awkward feeling.)
"Yes."
(Multiply the awkward feeling by one hundred or so.)
"Well, what are you going to eat? You seem pretty certain of yourself, not that you shouldn't be, of course."
(There was only one solution for awkwardness, in Mina's opinion.)
"Fettuccine Alfredo."
(And that was to talk more.)
"See, I didn't peg you as a fettuccine guy at all. I thought of you as more of a…well, honestly, you didn't seem like the Italian type at all, really. Chinese? No…not even Mexican…really, I don't have any clue what type of food-eater you strike me as. Not that I can talk, I'm a really picky eater. Fickle, even…"
***
By the end of the night, Mina was certain she would scream if she had to sit uncomfortably in the line of Kevin's silent gaze for one more minute.
Which is why she was talking even faster than normal when, as the men dropped the two girls off at their apartment, she bid the white-haired man goodbye.
"Alright then, it was a nice night and now I'm going to go pry Rei-Rei away from your friend and go because I'm very tired and I think I should get to bed."
Again, Mina marveled at the unsettling way he let her finish her sentences. Usually she just talked until someone cut her off, but Kevin, it seemed, always patiently waited for her to complete her thoughts before replying.
But reply he did, with, surprisingly, more than one syllable: "Mina, I was wondering if I could see you again. Maybe sometime soon?"
She gaped at him for a moment: this man had showed little interest all evening—granted, he had never been disinterested, and had always seemed to listen intently to her words, but had also never replied at length to her questions, and never spoken at all when not asked something specific—and was now voicing the phrases that usually intimated a second date. Furthermore, she had felt none of the normal indicators of a successful relationship with him. There was no initial sizzle of attraction, no desire in his gaze, no heat when they accidentally brushed. Curiosity, yes; romance, no.
But for once, it was Mina who was at a loss for words; for once, it was Mina who answered monosyllabically: "Yes."
***
He brought her daffodils.
No one had ever brought her daffodils before.
She felt ambiguous about them, to tell the truth. A little distrustful, a little wary. Even as she placed them in a vase her brow was furrowed, as if they were a puzzle she was attempting to figure out.
He took her to a restaurant (of her choice) (Mexican), and listened to every word she said, answering quietly and precisely.
She realized that she rather liked being listened to.
She also realized that she didn't like not being replied to.
Still, at the end of the night, she found herself scheduling a third date.
And, as she looked at the vase of daffodils waiting inside the door, she found herself gazing at them with a distinct feeling of pleasantness, even if it was tempered with wariness.
***
He brought daffodils again, the next time. Her perspective towards them had not changed significantly during the interim apart, and the date was nothing special at all.
In fact, the only particularly interesting part of the whole night was when she yelled at him for his monosyllabic answers.
In response, he had begun laughing hysterically at her, apologized with profuse dignity (for laughing and for not talking), and promised to speak his mind about her discussion topics from that point on.
He had also told her that he found her fascinating.
She decided that she rather liked daffodils.
***
As dates came and went and weeks passed, her opinion of those star-shaped flowers fluctuated frantically.
He drove her crazy with his impassive patience, while she made him insane with her ability to grab hold of a subject and harp upon it until the cows came home. Some days, when they argued, all she would want to do is rip the yellow flora's heads from their thin green bodies. Once, after a particularly terrible fight, she actually did.
Then, on the other hand, that romance and passion and heat and sizzle that she had so missed on their initial meeting gradually insinuated itself into their relationship. Suddenly, the pounding heart and wild giddiness that she had expected to come at first sight came later, after she knew him, after he knew her. It was times like these, when she felt particularly joyous in their relationship, when she cherished her daffodils like children, watering and feeding and tending to them with a smile on her face and a skip on her step, until all that were needed were the daffodils, not even the man himself, to cause her pulse to quicken.
***
It was just an average, run-of-the mill date—no milestone, no special occasion. Just the thousandth or so—no one felt like counting—romantic engagement between the pair in question.
Still, Mina was quick to jump up and open the door when she heard the familiar sound of the bell signaling his arrival.
And she smiled, and he smiled—his small smile that she had had to accept as genuine, though it lacked all the ostentatious joy of her own—and she noticed a bouquet of yellow flowers that, like a ritual, like a tradition, he held out to her.
She took them gratefully, looked down at their scented heads, and looked Kevin right in the seal-gray eye.
"I love daffodils."
I love you.
A/N: Again, the flower's real meaning: DAFFODIL - Regard, Unrequited Love, You're the Only One, the Sun is Always Shining when I'm with You.
This time, it actually kind of worked, don't you think?
Anyway, I'm again going to ask you to both check out my poll and review. Just a clarification about the poll: all the summaries there are in regards to the same story. It's just how I'm going to summarize that story that's the issue.
Also, Nyridian: I did get your PM, but I'm afraid that, considering certain issues beyond my control, I can't get PMs easily. Therefore, while I loved getting it (it made me v. happy :-) ), I'm going to have to ask you to keep it to the reviews :-). Seriously, if you hadn't mentioned it in passing in your review I would never have gotten your PM. Anyway, I hope my above note about the poll cleared up your question, and I know you said that you liked certain #s of poll answers, but it mixes them up each time it shows them, so I don't know what those correspond to. Thank you for the beautifully long reviews, though.
REVIEW, my lovely people!
~FB~