Chapter 50 - Juniper Wisteria

"That's all the orders for the day." It was the afternoon. Sunday. Yakata had just put away the last tray of arrangements into the fridge. They had already eaten lunch.

"Well that's, that's great!" Yakata said. He set the tray down on the table, set himself down on the stool. "Do we, um. Start on tomorrow's, then…?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Nadeshiko looked up, slightly, as if thinking.

(Yakata hadn't brought up a word about the other day before to her. Their work, that day, had been begun silently, with only a set of glad greetings exchanged between them.)

(Yakata was okay with this, for now.)

(A small pile of bravery was starting to grow in his stomach.)

"Ah. I forgot." She got up off the stool.

"F-forgot what?"

"One more thing I need to do."

He watched as she went, with her ever-careful hands, and began choosing her materials. Mostly garnishes. Green things. Plain things.

Oak leaves. Broom. Horse chestnut. The brightest flower, truly, was a geranium, red as a burn.

But it was when she began reaching for a small spray of orange blossoms that the choices started to look slightly familiar. She took a while to find everything from the boxes and baskets of extras on the shelves. "Uh, um, Nadeshiko-san, do, do you need my help with anything?"

She sat down, scattering her treasures. "No. I think I'll be fine. Just watch."

And with her hands she worked magic.

It was unlike anything he had seen before, and he had seen her work, bouquet after arrangement after tiny wristlet of flowers, and marveled in its beauty and its quickness every time.

But here, she was slow, she was deliberate, and she was careful. The geraniums she placed at the center, cushioned by greenness and white blossoms and hard straw-ish brown.

Her hands moved like dancers in perfect harmony with one another, graceful and elegant and perfect. Not a move was wasted.

Yakata could hardly feel himself breathing.

And suddenly.

There it was.

The oak leaves and trefoil that she had used were glorious rays of things, like arms or wings, around the geraniums. The orange blossom wrapped around a bare spray of lavender, two different textures of pale, bringing out the geranium's redness.

She rested her hands in her lap, once she was done. Just looking at it.

And he spoke first. "I-it's really pretty, Nadeshiko-san," he said. "I think it's… it's one of the best you've ever done."

It was plain, truly. More green than any other color, like a handful of leaves. But it was the plainness that emphasized the beauty of everything else, he felt.

Nobody else could have made it but her.

But she wasn't smiling. She just blinked, looking at it. "It's missing something," she finally said.

"Oh, what is it…?"

She stood, and went to the front room, and she came back with a single, white flower.

A camellia.

And she carefully, carefully, placed it in the arrangement, like she was tucking a child into bed. It was like it was meant to exist there, between the lavender and the orange blossom, between the geraniums.

"There," she said. "That's what it needed."

And all Yakata could do was agree with a breathless, "Yeah…"

"It's an improvement over the last one I made you, I think," she said.

"The, the last one…?"

"The one I left for you when you first arrived. It's probably dried out beyond recognition now."

And then he suddenly remembered, the shriveled little shadow of what she had just created, sitting on Hajime's desk beside the strange ever-fresh narcissus that Kotoji had given him. He could feel his shoulders rising. "Y-you mean this is… this one is for me?"

"Mm."

She had used those careful hands to make something for him, something this beautiful.

His throat felt thick.

"Wh-why…?"

"Well, the first was to… welcome you. This sort of arrangement is typically used for housewarmings and bringing babies home. I thought to put my own spin on it, however. Change a few things."

"Oh, I… thank you…" He held his hands in each other, fighting back a smile with a swallow. "But um… why, why make it for me again? I mean, I've, I've already been here for…"

"I thought to refresh the one I gave you, as an apology for yesterday. Though if you would like for me to make you another…"

"No, no, I… I love it, I honestly do," Yakata said. "I'm just glad you, you, you… thought to do that, really, you didn't… need to apologize…"

"I'm just… glad you like it," she said. "I took a bit of a risk with it, but… I think I made the right decision, in the end."

"A risk?"

"I didn't know if your flower would fit. But I suppose it did."

Pull. "Muh-muh-my flower?"

"It took me a while to decide, but I finally found it. I think the camellia suits you."

Camellia. "Those mean, um. Gra-gra-gratitude, right? And, and loyalty…?"

"Mm. White ones, specifically, also mean… adorableness."

She smiled at him very directly there, and began laughing when Yakata's face started turning red. "I, I, I'm not adorable."

"Well I think you are."

He stared at the flowers instead of her. His flower.

("I have a flower for everyone important to me.")

"A-a-anyways, this, this arrangement, you said it… it's for welcoming someone to, um… To a new home, right…?" he said.

"Usually, yes."

"And the, um. Camellia. You normally don't put those in there, do you…"

"No, not usually."

"…I suppose it, um. Fits in after all, I, I, I, I guess…"

Oh no did he sound stupid. Saying all this stuff with flowers and.

She put a hand on his knee. "I suppose it does."

His smile smoothed, though it still hurt his cheeks. It had been so long since he'd been so calmed by her words.

(And considering the day before.)

His stomach fell, heavily and coldly. He pulled his hands away from her and up near his chest, and he stared at his fingers.

"…Yakata-kun, what's the matter?" Nadeshiko said.

"I, um." He gulped. "Nadeshiko-san, I… Takeru-san…" His mouth felt almost stiff, it didn't want to move.

Why were these words coming now? Now, of all times?

(Because it felt too perfect, too comfortable, too quick a snap to "normal.")

(He couldn't just take that without.)

"…he told me what you, what you… what you did, yesterday. What happened to Shusuke. What happened a-after that."

She took her hand off of his knee and folded it in her lap, perfectly and tightly. "…did he."

Yakata nodded. "He told me e-e-everything. And I, I, I think I… I understand, now. Why you don't… why you don't… let other people near you…"

She looked away from him.

"…you're scared of… of hurting people, aren't you…? Like you… like you hurt Shusuke-san."

She looked out the window.

"But… but, Nadeshiko-san I… I know you won't hurt me. I know you won't."

No response.

Yakata's heart felt strong and yet weaker than it had ever felt before.

His chest rose and fell with huge, deep breaths.

"…and, and even if you… did. I. I wouldn't care. I'd know you, you didn't mean it. That you... that you couldn't help it. And I'd still… I'd still care about you. A whole… a whole lot. No matter what happened."

A hot tear rolled down one side of his face, over his bandages.

"You're the… you're the."

The words wouldn't stop coming.

"…you're probably the first real friend I've, I've, I've ever had, Nadeshiko. I don't… I don't want you to go away because you're scared of hurting me…"

The truth was embarrassing and sad and stupid and stupid and yet.

(The girls back home stared at him and whispered and gossiped.)

(Their mothers weren't any better. They were the ones who first called him witch-boy.)

(And the boys would hassle him and make him show off how smart he was, how skilled he was. At best.)

(When they weren't making him run home to nurse thrown-rock bruises in the morning, smoothed over with his mother's reluctant hands.)

(And those teachers, those awful, awful teachers, that made the very act of speaking a crime.)

Was he really so lonely, that he wanted to cling so badly to her still?

Was she really his first friend?

(She had a flower for him.)

"…I'll… I'll be fine, Nadeshiko-san. So no matter what happens, I'll… I'll still like you. I'll still… I'll still like you." He wiped his eyes, sniffed. "I, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, this is… this is stupid, I'm sorry…"

And then he noticed that she'd raised a hand to her chest, resting it on her collarbone, barely brushing her heart.

"…please, don't apologize," she said. He could almost barely hear her. "I should… probably bring you home. I'll get a box for your flowers."

She began to stand.

And Yakata reached out his hand and took hers before she could leave.

"…please come home for good this time, Nadeshiko-san," he said. He stared at his knees, not her. "You… you don't need to stay away any more. It's okay."

She didn't respond.

He stood.

"…I like it when you're home," he said. Clumsily, he wiped his eyes again, with his other hand. "I miss you. So… please?"

Gently, she took her hand out of his, but she did not leave. "I'm going to bring you home," she said, "and then return to my grandfather's house."

Yakata had to bite, hard, into his lip, to keep from saying anything further.

But then she turned around, and he looked up and he saw her eyes, shining and wet and.

(She was crying.)

"…I need to get my things, first. It wouldn't be wise to go home without them."

Yakata shoved himself forward and he hugged her with a strength in his arms that he didn't know he had.

And she hugged him back.

He pressed his head hard against her chest as the tears came, freely and full of breath and relief and.

She was going to return home.

His heart was beating so quickly.

(Just like hers.)

"When you. When you go visit Shusuke next Saturday, I, I want… to come with you," he said, quietly. "Because… because it's not as bad, when you're not alone. …right?"

She took a breath in. Her voice was high. "Yes. It's not so bad. And I'm sure… it will turn out better this time."

"I know it will, Nadeshiko-san." He pulled in just a little closer. "I… I know it will."

(And listening to all of this from the front room, Inoichi took of his glasses and rubbed his eyes and was thankful that nobody else was around to break the two of them apart.)

They left for home after Yakata pulled away from her, volunteering to get the box himself, to Nadeshiko's gentle delight. And he was the one that held it as they walked back home together.

Though there was a pause, on the way.

By the station.

It was Nadeshiko who had stopped, suddenly, seemingly without any reason. And then she started walking towards it, and Yakata followed.

"Wh-what's going on?" he said.

"Hajime?" she replied.

She walked up to the gate, where people entered, where people exited. And people were exiting, from a transport that had just recently pulled in.

Apparently, Hajime, her oldest brother, had been a passenger. And her voice cut through the crowd and he looked up—ah, and there Yakata recognized his face, plain and tired and like Sasuke's—and he went up to the fence. "Nadeshiko, what are you doing here?"

"I suppose I could ask the same of you. I thought you were on a mission."

"We fulfilled our mission. And we brought back a bit more than we had anticipated." He tilted his head slightly. "Oh, hello there, Yakata-kun."

Yakata nodded his head. "H-hi, Hajime-san."

"Well I'm glad it went quickly. Do you suppose you'll be home, tonight?" Nadeshiko continued.

"No idea."

"Hajime! Hey, can you give us a little help here?" A girl was waving to him, from a bit further up. She had pink hair, and she was very short—maybe only as tall as Yakata was—but her limbs were stocky and clearly muscled.

"Coming, coming," Hajime called over his shoulder. "At any rate, I'll let you and Mom know if I can make it. I'll probably be back tomorrow."

"That's good."

"Hajime, c'mon!" The pink-haired girl was waving again. Two other people were with her, a girl with dark brown hair and those strange pearl-eyes that Yakata had seen only once before, and a boy with sandy hair with pouches of all sorts on his belt. He was assisting another woman off the train.

The woman was very fat, and her hair was very red, and she moved carefully, grimacing, as if every motion pained her, even with the other boy propping her up.

But when she looked up, her eyes, red and strange and visible behind even her glasses, met with Yakata's, and they widened in a way that he did not expect. Her mouth fell slightly open.

Yakata hid himself behind Nadeshiko.

Staring, he hated when people stared at him.

(And she was staring at him, not at Sasuke, not at Nadeshiko.)

"Ha-ji-me!"

"Sorry, Nadeshiko."

"It's all right. I understand. I'll see you later."

"Yeah, later."

Hajime returned to them as a very tall man began to, clumsily, exit the transport. He was carrying something wrapped in a blanket in his arms.

Nadeshiko pulled Yakata along with her presence.

"…Nadeshiko, did, did, did you know a-any of those people? On the train?" he said, after a time.

"Well of course, that's my brother and his team."

"N-no, I mean… the people they were… with." He gulped. "That red-haired woman. Sh-she was… she was staring at me. I could tell."

"…I'm afraid I didn't know her," Nadeshiko replied. "I don't think she was staring at you, though."

"But she was…"

Nadeshiko walked on, thoughtfully, calmly.

"Well. Even if she was staring at you, it was probably only because she didn't expect to see such a… cute little boy right away."

Yakata's laugh was like a series of coughs. "St-stop it, why are you teasing me all of a sudden?" he said, pushing into her.

And all she did was laugh in reply, with her mouth closed, keeping her secrets.

She always seemed to know what to say.

She dropped Yakata off with a promise—yes, she would come back—and a wave of the hand, and the first thing Yakata did, after sloughing off his shoes, was to run up to Hajime's room and replace the flowers on his desk.

He brought the withered husk downstairs to the kitchen, but from there, he found himself suddenly at a loss. "I-Ino-san!" A long pause. "Ino-san, hello!"

He heard the toilet flushing, somewhere, and his face burned. Ah.

Ino arrived shortly afterward. "Yakata-kun, when did you get home?"

"N-not too long ago. Um. I need to throw this away, should, should, should I, um. Put it in the garbage or what?" He held the flowers up, slightly, in an awkward motion.

"Well of course you put it in the garbage, silly. Here, give it to me." She held her hands out, but he shook his head. "No? Well, okay." A pause. "What is that, anyways?" she asked.

"Oh, it's, um. An arrangement Nadeshiko-san made me. But it's all dried-up now, so, so she made me another. So I'm gonna get rid of this one."

"Oh did she, now," Ino said. She tilted her head sweetly.

Yakata nodded. "Yeah. Oh! And, um. And she's coming back home tonight! I, I got her to come home! I mean. Um." He fidgeted. "Well I, I, I didn't get her to come home but we talked today at work, and… yeah…"

Ino put a hand on his shoulder. "That's wonderful news, Yakata-kun. I'm happy for you."

He gave her a little smile. It didn't seem to sting as hard, that time.

(None of his smiles seemed to sting that much any more.)

He threw the dried flowers away and went upstairs, announcing it as he did so. And Ino just crossed her arms and quietly marveled, wondering what had happened.

Something good, no doubt.

Yakata finally felt like reading. And, his heart swelling with courage and happiness and goodness knows what else, he went into Nadeshiko's room, the grass-smelling room, and he dove into her bookshelves and did not surface for a long time.

And, as promised, she returned home a few hours later, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder containing a few clothes, a few books.

"I'm home," she said, softly.

Yakata was the first to greet her, with a wild, breathless smile. "Wuh-welcome home!" he said.

She smiled back. "Thank you."

And with his help, she began to unpack.

(And she noticed, with a tiny laugh in her heart, how her books were misarranged just so, just so slightly.)

It was at dinner that Nadeshiko finally spoke up. About Hajime, of all things.

(When Sasuke and Takeru had been quietly glaring at her for the rest of the meal. Inou avoided her gaze. At least Karai was happy to see her.)

(Then again, Karai was happy about just about everything.)

"I saw him at the transport station today. He'll be home by tomorrow, full time."

"Oh, really. That's good," Sasuke said. "A quick mission. He's usually gone longer."

"Much longer," Takeru added.

"It'll be nice to see him home!" Karai said.

"Wonder why that is," Sasuke continued. "That these missions always seem to take so long for him."

"I think they're just really far away, is all, an' it takes a lot of time to travel," said Karai.

"Who knows," Takeru said.

Very little else was said on the matter.

After dinner, Ino got a phone call, which preoccupied her for quite a long while. Karai did the dishes. Inou took a bath. Sasuke and Yakata had their training.

("You seem happy," Sasuke said.)

("It, it's because I am," Yakata replied.)

(Sasuke's glance was suspicious, mocking, and yet strangely glad, all at once.)

And Takeru made his way toward Nadeshiko. She was in her room, he knew. He went in without knocking.

She was on her bed, reading. She had her legs pulled up beside her, one over the other.

"So you decided to come back, did you," he said.

"I did. I felt things had gotten better."

"Better."

"Yes. I was no longer making things difficult."

Takeru leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded. "You know, I honestly thought that you wouldn't come back. At least, until Yakata-kun went home."

"I suppose you were wrong, then."

He rolled his eyes. "Look at you. When did you get so sarcastic?"

"I'm not being sarcastic, brother."

Takeru paused. "So he's okay with you, then? With what you did?"

"That's what he said."

"You know I told him literally everything."

"I don't doubt it."

"And he's not even scared of you? Scared of what you could do to him?"

She turned a page, carefully. "Anyone would be scared. But he told me that he didn't care."

A pause, a long one. Takeru shifted his feet over the other. "Wow. He must not even be human. I mean, if he can accept even you."

"Somehow I doubt this, brother." She didn't look up from her book.

Takeru glanced away from her with little, dark, narrow eyes, and back. "…y'know, I really have been wondering. Why it is Father decided to bring him home. Out of the blue like he did, at that."

"He showed potential. And from what I gather, he's been living up to it."

"Oh, that's what he said. Personally," Takeru continued, "I don't believe it."

She looked up, with a flick of her eyes. "Then what do you think is the reason, Takeru?"

(Oh, did Takeru ever have theories.)

All he did was shrug. "Father's gone mad, I think. Abducted a child or something in a fit of delusional thought. That's all."

"Delusions, is it."

"He thinks that kid's his brother, Nadeshiko. Our uncle, back from the dead."

She blinked.

Her eyes returned downward. "Interesting theory, brother."

He hated talking to her, with her tepid voice. It was impossible to get her angry.

(Or any other emotion, for that matter.)

"Well, I'll be the one saying 'I-told-you-so' if he turns out to be some sort of mind-controlling monster and kills us all."

"Yakata-kun isn't a monster."

"Like you have any right to judge."

Takeru didn't close the door behind him.

Quietly, Nadeshiko marked her place with her finger. She walked to the door.

And closed it.

(Yakata was not a monster.)

(But even with the marigolds in her window. In the Saturdays she spent kneeling, speaking to a boy whom she knew was no longer there. Whom she had barely even known before his departure.)

(In Murasaki's messages from "him.")

(Even in her father shoving her against the wall, and the rose-violet bruise on her back. In every hateful glance and blue-hot word.)

("I WILL NOT LET YOU CORRUPT HIM!")

(She still couldn't decide if she was truly a monster or not.)

But Yakata.

Even if he thought she really was a monster, secretly.

(And, inside, she was fine with this. She accepted this.)

(Because surely that was what everyone else thought.)

He was kind enough not to treat her like one.

And she appreciated that more than any words she could have ever used.