Title: Lily and Thistle
Author: paws_bells
Beta-ed by: MelissaRose85
Characters/Pairing: Sarugaki Hiyori and Hirako Shinji
Type: One-shot Collection (InComplete)
Genre: Romance/Humor
Word Count: 2636
Rating: T (Contains content not suitable for children)
Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite.
Summary: 'Say Please'-verse. The language of flowers. The devoted and passionate Lily. The brave and loyal Thistle. A bouquet of love. One-shot series.
Created on: 24/09/13
Completed on: 28/09/13
Chapter Last Revised on: 25/08/14
Pre-Series Interlude: Happy Birthday 'ta Ya, Dumbass – Part I
Shinji could not remember the exact year when he started receiving wagashi from a mysterious well-wisher during his birthdays, but he was certain that it was definitely after he had first ascended to the Captaincy post of the Gobantai.
Without fail, whenever he entered his office on the mornings of his birthday, there would be a wooden tray sitting on his desk, waiting patiently for him to partake of the delicacies that it presented. The plain and black, lacquered tray would slowly become a familiar sight to him over the years, and always, arrayed carefully on its flat surface was a shallow, ceramic plate with a delicately arranged and handmade traditional sweet, accompanied by a piping hot, steaming bowl of finely blended matcha. There would be nothing else – no hidden message or even a short, handwritten note to indicate or even hint vaguely to the identity of the unknown person who had gone to such great lengths to prepare this special, annual treat for him. It was evident that other than for the tray of delicious, extremely well-crafted confections and the fragrant, bitter tea that served to balance out their sweetness, his secret gift giver had neither the designs nor the desire to establish any other form of communication with him, and that he or she was most definitely not looking for his acknowledgement.
That tray was all there was, and it always seemed to plainly and simply say to him – O-tanjoubi omedetou gozaimasu.
Happy birthday.
It was a sincere greeting, present and gesture of goodwill all rolled into one, and somehow it was just right.
Nobody in his division owned up to being the mastermind behind the exquisite gifts when he questioned them, and even though it would be easy for him to get to the bottom of this intriguing mystery if he was determined enough to do so, Shinji respected the unspoken wish of the anonymous individual to remain unidentified by him. He could sense no ill will from his secretive giver, after all, and besides, just because he did not know the identity of the person did not mean that he was unable to make an educated guess when it came to just who he or she might be.
A fellow Shinigami, a rather skilled one, if they were able to sneak in and out of his office completely undetected – so, a seated officer, at least. Someone who also knew him well enough to be familiar with his daily habits and clockwork morning rituals – an acquaintance, then. And last but not least, a person who was also exceptionally good at traditional sweet making – that part he wasn't so sure about.
Even though he could not quite recall the exact year the mysterious gifts started appearing on his desktop, Shinji could still remember what the first tray had contained. It had been a deceptively plain serving of Akumaki, already thoughtfully unwrapped from its bamboo skin wrappings, sliced into thin pieces, and served with blended sugar and fine, freshly toasted kinako flour. He didn't usually eat the bland tasting glutinous rice, but food was food, and turning down what was quite apparently a meticulously prepared birthday dish was just incredibly bad form on his part (not to mention that he had been hungry and there was nothing else remotely edible around that time).
The Akumaki had turned out to be delicious, a mild blend of flavors that delighted his taste buds despite its relatively humble appearance, and Shinji was sold. From that time onwards, he began to look forward to each and every single one of the sweets delivered to him by his anonymous well-wisher. The next year, it had been the simple but still aesthetically pleasing Sakuramochi, a trinity of delicate pink mochi with red bean paste filling arranged neatly on the ceramic plate, each wrapped in a piece of edible Sakura leaf, and a single, tiny Sakura bud rested on top of each of the small, bite-sized confections.
He had briefly speculated that these were possibly the offerings from one of his (many) female admirers, but eventually, he had rejected the notion as it became quite apparent that the gifts were not intended to be romantic. They were rather formal in fact, adhering to the rigid rules and level of visual presentation on par to that required by a ceremonial otemae performance in traditional chado, and Shinji was rather bemused by the impersonal nature of the gifts, though they were obviously made with such care and exquisite skill. He always showed his thanks in the only way that he was allowed to, of course, and made sure to consume everything, from the sweets down to the very last drop of the tea. By evening time, the empty tray that he had left outside the office would have mysteriously disappeared, and along with it, his appreciation as well.
Decades passed, and each time without fail, that black, lacquered tray would make an appearance on his desk whenever his birthday rolled along. The confections were never the same as well, from different variations of Amanatto to Yokan and everything else in between. His curiosity slowly grew, but he held it back firmly and continued to keep it contained.
Unfortunately, before he could even consider paying attention to his growing fascination towards the unknown individual who had always celebrated his birthday for him, Aizen struck, and he, along with the other seven Hollow-afflicted Shinigami, were secretly smuggled out of Soul Society to live a life in exile in the Living Realm. That first year had been an extremely difficult time for all of them, and his birthday came and went silently. He was not in the mood for festivities – none of them were – and besides, there was little doubt in his mind that it was highly unlikely that his secret giver would be able to continue with their private tradition, seeing that he was now incognito and keeping a low profile in another realm.
The situation improved somewhat the next year. The exiled Shinigami/Hollow hybrids were slowly getting their feet back under them, slowly adapting to life in the human world, but when his birthday came by again, Shinji once more had no expectations that things would return to the way it used to be in the past.
Imagine his surprise when he woke up that morning and was greeted with a very familiar sight when he stepped into the kitchen.
The utensils were all different, of course; the beautiful, black, lacquered tray was replaced by a simple, rustic rattan version. The exquisite, white ceramic plate and its accompanying delicate, hand painted chawan were also no more, and instead, a flat, crude platter made from clay sat on the tray, together with a chipped bowl that served as a vessel for the tea.
Despite the plain and unrefined flatware that had been used, the food still looked as exquisite as ever, the arrangement hinting at the refined prestige of traditional Japanese teahouses. It was almost too good to eat, and definitely stood out from the humble crockery used to present it.
Shinji turned slowly to Lisa, who had entered the kitchen after him and was eyeing him with curiosity – that woman was always curious.
"Did ya do this?" he asked her automatically, even though he already knew her reply. Forced by circumstances to rely on each other, the past couple of years living together with all the other Vizards had quickly unearthed everyone's secret skills and forte outside of those required in their previous line of occupation, and unfortunately, the culinary arts were something Lisa hadn't quite grasped – she couldn't even make it as an apprentice in terms of skill.
The only three who could cook relatively well were Rose, Kensei, and a certain pigtailed brat, and the mere notion of the stoic Kensei secretly sending him handmade sweets for the past couple of decades was so ludicrous that he rejected it immediately. Besides, the silver-haired man's cooking skills seemed to be only limited to the manly, outdoorsy, campfire type variety, and the making of delicate wagashi was obviously another vastly different epicurean cup of tea altogether, pun fully intended. Rose was also out of the question since the two men never even knew each other all that well until roughly fifteen years ago, when the former ascended to the position of the Captain of the Third Division, and Shinji had been receiving his special gifts for nearly three decades already.
That just left Hiyori, the only one out of all of them who was formally trained in the arts of traditional Japanese cuisine by her previous Captain, Hikifune Kirio –
And abruptly, everything made sense.
He really should have known.
The look of surprise on his face was pretty obvious though, and Lisa slowly lifted a pencil thin, arched brow.
"No. I didn't make this," she replied calmly at last, though judging by her unsurprised demeanor, she apparently knew who did. "But you should probably eat it quickly before Mashiro comes in and swallows it all. I don't think any of us even knew that it was your birthday today. Happy birthday, Shinji."
After passing on her well wishes, Lisa turned and exited the kitchen, leaving Shinji in private. The still bemused blonde looked down briefly at the tray of sweets, visually appreciating his gift before he sat down on the table and slowly reached out to pick up the small, bamboo skewer that lay neatly on the side. He dug in. This year's specialty was tiny, bite-sized pieces of Warabimochi, coated in kinako flour and were soft and chewy, the taste and texture of the treat simply divine. It tasted like home, reminding him of the times back in Seireitei, and even though the feeling of nostalgia was bittersweet, Shinji also felt heartened by the dish.
She was getting even better at this, he thought belatedly, and was once again rather astounded that his secret giver had been the brat all along. Curiosity quickly flooded him – now that he knew the who, he was immensely interested in knowing the why. His relationship with Hiyori had always been of the antagonistic nature, though in a somewhat contradictory, friendly fashion. They had known each other from way back, even before he became the Captain of the Gobantai, and even back then, she had been the same fiery, quick tempered hothead as now. The notion that she had been patiently (for her) presenting him with these birthday offerings year after year for decades, and anonymously so, amazed him – it almost seemed unbelievable.
But now that he had a person to match the actions to, the rest of the puzzle quickly fell neatly into place – it all fit together now. She was definitely sneaky enough to get into and out of his office without detection, she certainly knew him well enough to have a good idea of his habits and daily schedules, and of course, she was definitely skilled enough to prepare the sweets and tea on her own.
Shinji ate the last of the Warabimochi and finished off the handmade confection by slowly savoring the strong, bitter matcha that complimented the dish. It was perfect, and as much as it made him happy to receive the well-wishes like he always did, the rest of him was still clamoring for answers and confirmation. Setting the tray of dirty dishes to the side, the fine-haired blonde stood up and left the kitchen in search of a certain pigtailed brat. He found her easily enough, in the backyard of the house with Hachi, working on the thriving vegetable garden with the gentle pink-haired giant.
Hachigen looked up the moment he sensed Shinji's approach. The large man smiled. "Good morning, Shinji-san."
The lanky ex-Captain of the Fifth Division returned his greeting with a nod, his attention still mostly fixed on the light-haired blonde whose concentration was focused on weeding the turnip patch, and she seemed completely determined to ignore him.
Hachi easily sensed Shinji's unspoken request to speak to Hiyori in private, and standing up, the man politely excused himself, but not before sincerely wishing him a happy birthday as well. It seemed that some of the Vizards, if not all, were already made aware that today was his day.
Shinji just eyed the bent head of the petite female whom he had come out to talk to, but she was still intent on pretending that he was invisible. He waited a while for her to finally acknowledge him, but when she never did, he grew tired of her stubbornness and went right up to her instead, crouching down before her and leaving her no choice but to pay attention to him.
Very reluctantly, Hiyori finally looked up. She was not pleased to have her task disrupted midway, and she frowned at him. "What do ya want?" she demanded, grumpy as usual. She also had some dirt streaked on her small face as an unintentional result from working on the garden, and looked quite cutely disheveled despite wearing that glower on her freckled face.
Shinji wondered just when he had started thinking of her as 'cute' and not proceed to freak out over his thoughts right after. He simply stared at this petite girl-woman steadily.
"It was you all along, wasn't it," he asked then, more factual than questioning, intent on getting his confirmation all the same. "All those times, ya were the one who made me those sweets on my birthdays."
Her scowl deepened but she kept silent. Shinji pressed on, undaunted.
"What I wanna know is, why?" he asked simply, curiously. "Why the secrecy?"
She very sullenly looked away then, her cheeks tinting red. "I dunno what yer talkin' 'bout," she insisted in a mumble, before she regained her gumption once more and was glaring at him indignantly. "Who'd wanna make sweets for a baldy like ya, anyway?" She quickly stood up, and then she pointed down at him. "Don't think that yer special or anythin' just 'cuz today's yer birthday! I'm gonna give ya a birthday bashin' if ya keep harassin' me, dumbass!"
Then, the pigtailed girl whirled around, lifted the hem of her yukata to her knees so that she wouldn't trip over it, and pounded back into the house on bare, dirt stained feet, unceremoniously leaving behind a nonplussed Shinji to stare after her retreating form.
Hiyori made herself completely scarce for the rest of that day, and also on every day of his birthday thereafter, until he finally received the memo that she had no intention whatsoever of owning up to her deeds.
But the next year, and for every year after that, the tradition of the sweets giving continued, and that tray would be there, faithfully greeting him on every morning of his birth anniversary – wishing him a happy birthday even when its stubbornly petulant mistress would never do the same.
As the decades slowly passed, the Vizards also grew closer and more cohesive as a unit, becoming more than just a group of misfits and outcasts who just happened to be stuck with each other. They became something a lot more close knit - almost like family but not really – and sometimes, when Hiyori was in a good mood, she would even make celebratory sweets for the others as well when it came to their special days, usually cakes and related desserts from the West that were slowly becoming more and more popular in Japan as time passed.
But always, always, the wagashi were reserved purely for Shinji, and everyone in the group knew that, even though Hiyori consistently (and often quite angrily) denied all knowledge of their creation.
Really, she was such a weird and difficult little thing.
But as time went on, Shinji decided that he was pretty okay with that too.
::tsuzuku::
Questions That I Would Like To Answer Before You Ask:
First of all, apologies for the late update! This installment was actually written quite a while back but I kind of lost the momentum and motivation to do the editing until recently. Sorry! I tend to lose steam inexplicably every now and then – that and I have been really pretty busy dealing with real life for the past few months. Anyway! This arc will be a short one – only two chapters long. I hope you dear readers will enjoy it all the same.
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To avoid any confusion, here's a glossary of Japanese terms used in this chapter:
Akumaki – a Japanese style confection made from glutinous rice wrapped in bamboo skin and soaked in lye overnight before steaming it
Kinako – toasted soybean flour
Wagashi – traditional Japanese confectionery which is often served with tea
Matcha – fine powdered green tea
O-tanjoubi omedetou gozaimasu – means 'Happy Birthday' (formal greeting)
Sakuramochi – a type of Japanese confectionery made of sweet pink mochi and red bean paste, covered with an edible leaf of sakura.
Chado – Japanese tea ceremony
Otemae – the artistic performance during a Japanese tea ceremony
Amanatto – Japanese traditional confectionery made of azuki or other beans, covered with refined sugar after simmering with sugar syrup and drying.
Yokan – a thick, jellied Japanese desert made of red bean paste, agar, and sugar.
Chawan – Japanese traditional teacup
Warabimochi – jelly-like Japanese confection made from bracken starch and covered or dipped in kinako.
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Last but not least, thanks for reading!
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Your reviews fuel my passion for writing. So please leave a comment if you like this fic!
-paws