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: 3284

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: 28/09/13

Completed on: 29/09/13

Chapter Last Revised on: 01/09/14

Pre-Series Interlude: Happy Birthday 'ta Ya, Dumbass – Part II

For Hiyori, it had all started at the suggestion of Hikifune Taichou.

"Hiyori-chan," the motherly, purple-haired Shinigami had patiently and gently rebuked her young Fukutaichou after the latter had yet another quarrelsome episode with one of her fellow division members. "That's not the right way to make friends, you know."

The small, pigtailed girl was all scruffy and upset from the fight, even though she had won and had beaten her opponent into the ground in the process.

"I don't need friends," she had muttered back in return. "They are all stupid."

The Captain of the Twelfth Division had quietly raised her brow then at her subordinate's unhappy reply. "What about Hirako?" Kirio enquired calmly then, referring to the newly instated Captain of the Fifth Division. "He's your friend, isn't he?"

Hiyori just scowled obstinately. "He's not a friend; he's just a dumbass," she muttered rather uncharitably, and Hikifune lightly rapped on the petite girl's head in admonishment. The little blonde's nose scrunched in protest.

"You should be nicer to him," her Captain told her sternly. "Friendship is precious, Hiyori-chan."

The small Shinigami just puffed out her cheeks slightly and looked petulant, though her freckled cheeks were slightly flushed with chagrin.

"Mm, I know! Why don't you make something for him?" Kirio suggested then, even as she used the edge of her sleeve to rub away the smudge of dirt on the girl's small face. "You always make the best sweets – I'm sure that Hirako will understand your feelings once he tastes your delicious confections."

Hiyori just reddened even more at the lavish compliment from her adored mother figure. Just for that approving comment, the young Lieutenant would happily do whatever it took to earn more generous praise from her Taichou, even though she wasn't really all that interested in conveying anything to stupid Shinji in the first place.

Even now, more than a hundred years later, she still remembered the first thing she had made for the other blonde – it was the deceptively humble Akumaki. Hiyori had basically just made use of the spare ingredients that she could find lying around the kitchens of the Juunibantai to whip up the dish, though the entire process was hardly as simple as its completed appearance. It took skill to securely wrap and tie the glutinous rice in the bamboo leaf; if the winding was too loose, then the rice would come out too soft and soggy, if the winding was too tight, then the rice would turn out hard and terrible – a delicate balance was needed to achieve the perfect texture and bring out the subtle taste of the confection. The temperature of the furnace in which the bamboo-wrapped Akumaki was to be cooked in a pot of boiling water also had to be carefully watched and regulated – for a seemingly plain dish, a lot of work was required to make sure that it came out perfect.

Hiyori had chosen that confection in the first place because she had thought that it was perfect for the baldy. Even though the kanji was not spelt to mean as such, the pronunciation of the dish – Akumaki – could also be taken to reference the devil (or ogre), and the pigtailed girl was very certain that hage Shinji would receive her 'feelings' loud and clear.

Besides, the dumbass' birthday was just a few days after Tango no Sekku – Boys' Day – and everyone knew that Akumaki was just the perfect thing to eat during this period of time.

She had woken up extremely early on the morning of Shinji's birthday to prepare the dish, barely completing it before dawn. The chado and the serving of the matcha had been saved for last, and by the time Hiyori was satisfied with the overall presentation of the dessert, she was really looking forward to shoving it in the long-haired blonde's face and loudly bragging about her culinary prowess. She had really intended to jump on the baldy and surprise him with her divine handiwork – he would definitely yell and swear for sure, and she looked forward to seeing his stupid reaction…but somehow or rather, Hiyori ended up losing her nerve on the way to the Gobantai.

What if he hated her present? Granted, she had only fixed it at first on the suggestion of her Taichou, but cooking was one of the things Hiyori knew that she was really, really good at and she was immensely proud of, and she had ended up putting in more effort than she had originally intended preparing this tray of sweets – what if the baldy decided that it tasted horrible and plain refused to eat it? She would be furious, of course, and she would murderously stuff every last bit of it down his throat whether he wanted it or not, but the whole thing would still end up being extremely embarrassing on her part, andmaybeshemightevenfeelhurttoo.

Hiyori hated the feeling of being laughed at the most, and if Shinji ever laughed at her for going through all the trouble of doing all this, then she was very sure that she would react by doing something extremely rash and violent that would put an abrupt end to this unconventional friendship of theirs. For some reason that she did not quite understand herself, that possibility was rather upsetting to the young Fukutaichou.

…perhaps it would be better if she took a more subtle – safer – approach this time.

The pigtailed blonde would never admit it, but in the end, she had chickened out. Nervously sneaking into Shinji's office like a thief, she had dumped the tray on his desk and then quickly fled like a coward. She hadn't stuck around to see the other blonde's reaction to her offering either – for a dumbass, he was also smart as a whip and she knew that he would immediately put two and two together if he saw her lingering around the scene like someone with a guilty conscience.

She had been very surprised when she returned later that day to find that the tray of food had all been eaten – the plate of glutinous rice picked clean and not a drop of matcha left in the chawan. It was the highest form of compliment that could be paid to the chef, and Hiyori had been smug and giddy with pride for the rest of that day, her confidence fully restored. Even though the baldy did not know that she had been the one to make him the food, Hiyori quickly realized that she was rather content to keep her identity unrevealed this time. Giving to others without any expectation of a returning favor made her feel very good about herself, and besides, it was also a nice change of pace that she and the baldy weren't yelling or tussling with each other like they always did whenever they met, though of course the latter had no idea whatsoever that she was the one behind his present.

The next few years went by in the same fashion – Hiyori would make a different dish of sweets to anonymously present to Shinji, and besides the obvious birthday greetings, it had also become something of a game on her part, one that she was surprised to find that she rather enjoyed. It also stoked her ego immensely that the baldy always consumed everything and anything that she made for him, and so, this slowly became a tradition for her. Sometimes, though, it was extremely difficult for her to continuing keeping this secret of hers. Due to her significantly open, admittedly brash and rather vocal nature, it was a challenge to keep from blurting out the fact that she had been his secret giver all along, especially when they were having one of their infamous squabbles – it would have been utterly satisfying to see the surprised and gobsmacked expression on his face, she was sure – but for some reason or another, she just didn't quite feel like revealing herself to him yet.

Another decade passed, and Hikifune Taichou left the Twelfth Division to take up position in the Royal Guard instead. Hiyori had been heartbroken by her Captain's decision, and the fact that the latter's replacement had been an idiotic, absentminded nerd had not sat well with the young girl at all. She had moped morosely for the longest time, but stupid Shinji must not have gotten the memo, for the dumbass kept bothering her and needling her and just wouldn't allow her to remain depressed for long.

Just for the sake of it, she had continued to deliver handmade confections to the long-haired blonde, her actions as covert as before. By now, it had become a force of habit, and whenever May the Tenth rolled along, so would she begin to closet herself in the communal kitchens of the Juunibantai, unceremoniously kicking out her fellow members in the process, making use of the facilities in the ungodly hours of the morning, and would only ever relinquish possession of the room when she was finally satisfied with whatever it was that she was making for that year. Her Captain was not entirely as clueless as he liked to appear to be and seemed to have some notion of just what she was doing – or who she was doing it for – but since he wisely stayed out of her affairs and also kept his mouth shut regarding his knowledge, she grudgingly let him be, and would even sometimes 'accidentally' leave him the leftovers of the delicious wagashi she had made.

Kisuke was always more than happy to accept the little bribes from his feisty Lieutenant.

Then, yet another decade rolled past, and all of a sudden, their world was turned upside down, the rug pulled from right under them. The betrayal had hit them out of nowhere, completely blindsiding them when they hadn't expected it at all, and then they were now the enemy, the exiled, the monsters. It was incredibly hard to take in the magnitude of their devastation when everything had happened so quickly, and even months after the catastrophic event, they were all still struggling to understand what exactly had happened to them.

Hollowfied. The soul of a Hollow forcibly implanted in each of their psyches – they would never ever belong to themselves again. They had become the very things they had always been trained to slay. No mere word could describe the sheer horror when they finally realized their fates.

It had been a dark year for all of them, the eight Shinigami who had been forcibly 'modified' against their will, as well as Urahara Kisuke, Shihouin Yoruichi, and Tsukabishi Tessai. That year was also the first and only time since she had started the habit of celebrating Shinji's birthday with traditional handmade confections that she had failed to deliver – nobody was quite in the mood to celebrate anything after all, least of all her.

The next year, the situation became just a bit more tolerable, or at least, they were starting to realize that nothing would ever be done if they didn't get over themselves and start living – it was time to move on.

When the dumbass' birthday rolled around once again, Hiyori had deliberated and agonized for the longest time whether or not to resume their usual custom, or rather, her usual custom of making sweets for him – he still had not a clue of her identity, after all. However, Hiyori had been fully aware of the fact that if she picked it up again now, then the gig would be up – there would be no more covertness or secrecy. Shinji would definitely know. He was not the least stupid at all (despite her constant claims otherwise), and she was aware that the only reason he had not found her out was probably because he had chosen not to do so – if he really wanted to, he would have uncovered her identity a long time ago.

Now, the task of rooting her out would be much, much simpler for him. There was but a mere handful of them around, and it would be just a short and simple process of elimination for him to quickly discern that it had been her all along. After all, she was the only one of their little group that could prepare such delicacies.

But there had never been any need for her to keep herself a secret in the first place; at first, she had just been nervous, but then it turned out that there was nothing for her to be uneasy about, and it had simply become a game for her. Now, Hiyori felt that she was ready to come clean – sure, the baldly would be surprised, but it shouldn't be anything that she should be bothered about.

Their situation had still been a bit shaky and uncertain at that time; they were still finding their way in the Living Realm and a lot of things were still new and incomprehensible to them. It was the dawn of the Meiji era, there were so many strange, peculiar things that they had never encountered before, and also, they quickly found that most of their skills were not really needed – not for long, anyway. The traditional way of the warrior, the code of Bushido, was dying out. The skills of the Samurai were becoming obsolete, and for all of them, who only ever knew how to fight and kill, it was time to find new niches, or even learn new crafts altogether.

Their living situation had not exactly been the best, but they were not entirely destitute either. They were poor, but they were skilled enough to not go hungry, and if their circumstances ever reached the absolute bottom, they could always just rough it out in the woods. They were not unfamiliar with poverty; most of them had come from the Rukongai districts before they slowly worked their way up the hierarchy of the Gotei 13 and eventually ascended to their prestigious positions in the Shinigami military, and at least here, there was always wild game around.

They would survive this just like they had survived everything else in the past.

Hiyori had proved to be an exceptional cook, skilled in the culinary arts, as the rest quickly found out. She could make anything taste good, using what little and limited ingredients were available to prepare a filling and savory meal for the others.

And this time, even though she did not have anything exotic or expensive on hand, Hiyori was still determined to make something every bit as delicious as she had always managed in the past. Using what available materials she could scare up from their humble pantry, she was able to create chewy, delicious Warabimochi from just bracken starch, water, sugar, and finely ground kinako powder.

The pigtailed girl had just finished preparing the matcha and was in the process of washing up when Lisa entered the kitchen, spurred by curiosity to check out the bustle of activity that she had sensed going on in the room so early in the morning. Hiyori had taken one look at the ebony-haired woman and, in the spirit of forestalling any question, had quickly blurted out. "S'for the baldy," she muttered, scowling slightly at the same time as she did so, most likely in an attempt to look intimidating and keep her discomfiture at bay. "It's his birthday today. Don'ttellhimit'sfromme."

Lisa had merely lifted her brow as she watched the blonde quickly clean up the kitchen, and the latter's embarrassment was quite apparent.

"Is this a secret admirer thing?" the ex-Fukutaichou of the Hachibantai asked then, and the younger female quickly froze.

Hiyori was absolutely mortified. It had never occurred to her that this was what people might assume of her actions, though it was hardly her intention at all. But come to think of it, she had seen some of the other female Shinigami do the exact same thing before, blushing and giggling like idiots and covertly dropping anonymous gifts in the way of the objects of their affections. Oh. Oh shit. She had just realized that she had been doing pretty much the same thing for the last few decades (minus the blushing and giggling, of course), and- Shit.

What if the dumbass thought that she was one of his fangirls?! For some reason unbeknownst to her, that moron had more than his share of female admirers back in Seireitei – what if he thought that she was one of those?!

She mightsortofkindofmaybe think of Shinji as a good friend, but she didn't like him that much.

Hiyori's face was bright red by then.

It was quite too late to retract her friendly (friendly!) gesture now, though, not when Lisa had already found her out. There was no choice but to just suck it up and try to be as nonchalant about the whole thing as she could.

"HAGE SHINJI IS NOT THE OBJECT OF MY AFFECTIONS," the overwrought girl bellowed at Lisa before she swiftly hightailed it out of the kitchen and out of the house to help Hachi with the gardening.

But of course it hadn't just ended there. She had been simmering in her embarrassment (Hachi had been polite and kind enough not to mention her moodiness) when the dumbass himself came out and started looking at her like he didn't quite know what to make of her, and she quickly found that she really didn't enjoy being stared at like some exotic pet monkey, especially by him. She had lost her temper then, threatened to beat him up, and then ran off before he could begin to ask her even more awkward questions.

Still, even though she kept denying the fact that she had been the one to make him all the sweets, Hiyori continued faithfully, albeit rather grudgingly, to give him deliciously exquisite wagashi on his birthdays.

Then, the decades passed, and over the years, the confections she prepared for him grew more and more colorful and elaborate. The namagashi that she made were delicate and beautifully fashioned, works of art that were almost too pretty to eat. She only prepared the traditional sweets exclusively for him though, and slowly, as her feelings for him gradually changed from that of mere friendship to blossoming affection, so did the level of complexity and effort that she put into his edible gifts, each of her creations plainly telling of the things she flatly refused to say.

By then, Shinji was already used to her stubborn, exasperating silence whenever it was the anniversary of his birth, and he no longer made too much of a fuss out of it.

More time trundled along, and then, quite suddenly, Aizen was defeated. Their century long exile was at an end, and they had finally gotten vengeance and closure. With one chapter of her life ending, another one began, and Hiyori found that she no longer had any excuses left to deny herself what she had slowly realized she had wanted all along. A few months after the battle in the fake Karakura town, a month after she had healed from the grievous injury that had been dealt to her by Ichimaru Gin, on the day of Shinji's birthday, she once again wordlessly presented him with a single namagashi, this one crafted with breathtaking detail in the shape and form of a white lily of the valley – his personal mark, as well as the symbol of her purity.

That evening, she gave herself up wholly to him, and by this time, there was no longer any need for him to ask why – he already knew.

She was the best present that he had ever received.

Omake

Present day:

It was that time of the year again.

Shinji looked appreciatively at the black lacquered tray of finely made confections sitting on his desk, admiring the harmonious colors and design of this year's namagashi and deeply inhaling the warm, soothing scent of the accompanying matcha before shifting his attention over to his petite lover, who was lounging on his office couch with deliberate nonchalance, looking as casually disinterested as could be. As always, she was also pretending not to have anything to do with the sweets that he had just walked into his office to find, though nowadays, she wasn't even trying all that hard anymore.

The golden-haired man was both humored and a little exasperated by Hiyori's antics. He walked over to her and took a seat by her side. Then, he simply waited for her to acknowledge him. She glanced at him warily then, frowning a bit over the fact that he was ignoring the food in favor of bothering her instead.

"What?" she asked somewhat defensively. He slowly raised a brow.

"Can I stop pretendin' now?" he asked, his tone rich with wry amusement. Her scowl deepened slightly.

"I dunno what yer talkin' 'bout," she muttered, obviously still trying to be obstinate. He indulged her.

"Well, brat," he repeated his question, elaborating rather patiently as he did so. "Can I stop pretendin' that I don't know yer the one who has been feedin' me sweets the last hundred or so years?"

Hiyori started to turn a funny shade of pink, and she looked like she was on the verge of bolting. He reached out and grabbed her before she could run off on him, and then he tugged her onto his lap. She started to stiffen, but they were alone in his office right now, and he was more than happy to take the opportunity to pull her into his arms and cuddle her, his head tilting down to kiss the side of her throat and shoulder, his hand tugging the collar of her jacket aside to expose more of her pale flesh. She started to quiver slightly as he ran his lips teasingly over her skin, and his long, elegant fingers caressed her waist with lazy, sensual affection. His face was tucked into her neck, his fine, silky hair, tickling her slightly, and she was quickly overwhelmed by his warm, demonstrative behavior.

The pigtailed Vizard yelped when he nipped her bare shoulder lightly, and his arm curled even more securely around her waist, pulling her flush against him. This was going to get out of hand very quickly – the damn baldy was making her pulse race with his actions and fogging up her thoughts until she was starting to have trouble keeping her head straight. Increasingly flustered, Hiyori suddenly raised her hand and shoved her palm against Shinji's face, pushing him (and that distracting mouth of his) away from her.

"W-What do ya think yer doin', dumbass?!" she demanded rather breathlessly, trying to wiggle out of his grasp and pull her jacket back over her bare shoulder at the same time. "And lemme go already!"

"Nah, I don't think I will," he replied teasingly, agilely evading her wild blows and easily containing her despite her irritable, though halfhearted, struggles. He tugged her close and snuggled her, much to her indignant grunt, and planted a kiss on her freckled cheek to placate her. "At least not until yer willin' 'ta finally admit that you've been my secret admirer for a very long time."

Hiyori hissed at his comment, affronted and agitated by his assumption. Her face grew even redder, and she managed to free a hand to reach back and smack him hard on the head. "I'M NOT YER FUCKIN' SECRET ADMIRER, YA MORON!" she bellowed. "IT WAS S'POSED 'TA BE A FRIENDSHIP THING!"

He appeared bemused by her loud, touchy reply though he wasn't entirely surprised by her response. She had admitted her involvement, albeit indirectly so. Her gifts had been rather impersonal and proper, at least until a few decades ago, when she had slowly begun to respond to his feelings. "Then, why all the secrecy?" he asked, curious, and she quickly clamped up. He nudged her slightly. "Take yer time, I'm more than willin' 'ta sit here with ya 'till I get an answer, just so ya know."

The smaller blonde scowled at her pigheaded lover. He really meant it, and he had her in a secure hold too, so she couldn't run away and evade his question. After a while, she grudgingly relented.

"Ya were gonna laugh at me if I gave it 'ta ya upfront," she mumbled, quite displeased that he was forcing her to spell it out.

Shinji appeared mildly appalled by her not-so-charitable impression of him. "No, I wouldn't."

She shot him a sharp, irritated glare. "Yeah, ya so would," she insisted grumpily. "Ya were always teasin' and bullyin' me back then. Ya would totally throw my present back in my face, and then you'd never lemme live it down. Keepin' this a secret was just less aggravatin' for everyone."

He appeared slightly disgruntled by her candid explanation. "Gee. Nice 'ta know that ya thought me such an ogre. And maybe I was teasin' ya quite a bit, but ya were definitely no sweet angel yourself, luv." He paused briefly before continuing. "And just for the record, I wouldn't have rejected yer presents, even if I knew back then that it was from a certain 'lil monkey brat – those were some of the finest sweets I'd ever eaten."

His compliment made her ego swell, and her irritation subsided some. She settled more willingly in his arms, no longer bristling like an offended cat. He nuzzled her tenderly, and then he whispered in her ear the words that he had always wanted to say. "Thank you, Hiyori."

She shivered slightly at the feel of his lips moving lightly against the sensitive flesh of her ear lobe, and then she turned to glance at him, her cute, freckled features slightly red again. "I-Idiot," she stuttered back, and he was rather amused by this easily embarrassed side of her.

"Aren't ya finally gonna wish me a happy birthday?" he asked teasingly then. "I've been waitin' for ya 'ta say it for a very long time already, ya know." Hiyori's face rouged even more. For a quick moment, she looked like she was torn between either beating him up or running away.

Surprisingly enough, in the end she just looked away from his amused gaze instead and awkwardly mumbled out.

"Happy birthday 'ta ya, dumbass." Before she could completely lose her nerve, the petite blonde turned to him and quickly pecked him on the cheek. He was obviously surprised by her loving action, and she was so embarrassed by what she had just done that she immediately shoved away from him and tried to escape. He recovered enough to grab her before she could skitter off nervously.

"And where do ya think yer goin'?" he asked rhetorically then, his voice turning husky as he pulled her back to him. Her shy displays of affections were extremely attractive – and arousing – to him. Hiyori squirmed and flailed (rather violently), too embarrassed to even speak or kick up her usual fuss. She would also realize very quickly that he had no intention of letting her get away from him anytime soon – at least not until he got what he wanted from her.

"I think; ya owe me more than just one birthday kiss," he declared then, his tone playfully wicked. "Ya ain't goin' anywhere 'til I've collected 'em all."

::owari::

Questions That I Would Like To Answer Before You Ask:

So that's the end of this arc – short and sweet, yeah? =)

FYI, the Lily of the Valley is the insignia of the Fifth Division - Shinji's mark - and it also symbolizes purity and love. I say that it's Shinji's mark because the Lily of the Valley is also the flower of May, Shinji's birth month, so I suppose everything ties together. Obviously, this mini arc is also a birthday arc for our favorite male lead - hope that you guys have enjoyed reading it! =)

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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