Fandom: Digimon Adventure ZeroTwo/Digimon Frontier
Summary: The dancing flowers really weren't helping his migraine, but he really did need a bouquet.
Characters (main): Miyako Inoue, Kouichi Kimura
Pairings: Miyako/Kouichi (if you squint)
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon or the characters depicted within unless otherwise stated. Written for digimon_100 for the pairing Miyako/Kouichi.This is purely non-profit.
Word Count: 1028
Warnings: a migraine I guess. Nothing else comes to mind.
Extra Notes: cross-posted to fanfiction.
From the Back of a Flower Shop
The splashes of colour was making his head hurt, but the flowers held his gaze nonetheless. The fan was running in gentle circles, making the products dance in the wind it produced. Maybe it wouldn't have bothered him so much, but combined with the heat that persisted despite, the musty smells that fought with each other in the small space and the year old head injury, it was enough to make him want to throw up.
And he might have, if he hadn't been at the flower shop to purchase some flowers…and if he hadn't been in a generally public setting. It wasn't so bad that he would collapse on the spot but it was enough to make concentrating a rather difficult chore…and, it seemed, enough to get a mix of odd, worried and disgusted looks in return. He supposed it showed on his face, but he ignored all of them. He had enough to focus on, and tried staring at the buttercups hiding at the back of the store. Since the fan didn't reach that far back, the stalks were almost immobile, if blaringly yellow.
But what other colour did he expect buttercups to be?
'You know,' a voice piped up quite suddenly, and Kouichi realised he had wandered to the back corner of the store and to the buttercups. 'This isn't were people normally go looking for flowers for their date.'
'Ah, I'm not –' He lifted a hand automatically to his temple, eliciting a soft gasp and a lowering of tone.
'Oh, I'm sorry.' Her voice, although not exactly unbearable before, was softer now, if still as fast. 'Daisuke's always telling me I'm too loud, but half the stuff he says is hardly worth listening to, and – oh, how rude of me. Inoue Miyako.'
'Kimura Kouichi,' Kouichi replied, dropping his hand and glancing back at the flowers, then away again. The girl, as spontaneously as she had interrupted him, was much easier to look at than the flowers.
She cocked her head, strands of unbound mauve hair tipping forward. 'Buttercups for a date?' she reiterated, leaning forward to inspect the flowers. 'Although it's not exactly my business…hmm, these are rather dry. Didn't even know they had flowers this far back.'
'They were away from the fans,' Kouichi offered. Somehow, the girl had managed to worm her way into his acquaintance as easily as a drop of oil slithering across a surface of water. 'And the sun.'
'That's an understatement,' Miyako declared, straightening up. 'But you can't give these to anyone other than your little brother –'
Although Kouichi seriously doubted he could give them to Kouji. Especially in front of anyone else.
' – although they are on clearance, so I guess that's why. Dry flowers don't make the best window.' Her foot tapped, almost impatiently. 'Doesn't this shop sell manly flowers?'
Kouichi had to stifle his laughter at that one, although his nausea was a little ticked off at the action. 'I didn't know such flowers existed,' he said lightly.
'I'm starting to think they don't,' Miyako confessed. 'A friend of mine asked me to get a box of flowers for him, but I've got no idea what to get. A bouquet I can deal with, but those little boxes – aargh, I can't even imagine carrying them to his place.'
'To visit a grave?' Kouichi asked, a little tentatively when the conversation died there. He wasn't the best person to make small talk with, but somehow silence always came out the more awkward of the pair.
'Yes actually.' She looked a little surprised, though she was smiling again. 'Don't miss a thing, do you?'
Wondering how she could surmise that from one comment, Kouichi mumbled something in response. He wasn't sure himself what, but hopefully Miyako would take it as something to fit into their general conversation.
'You might give Ken a run for his money in a chess match. Goodness knows, not even Koushirou can beat him. Tuesdays at the public library in Odaiba, Fridays in Tamachi. You ought to come one day, if you can play.' She moved away from the buttercups as Kouichi nodded. Odaiba was near impossible, but Tamachi was doable and the other had probably assumed so, considering their presence in a flower shop at the edge of said district.
Koucihi himself lived the district over, but the flowers were much better quality here and his stepmother deserved the best he could afford.
'Ichijouji Ken?' he asked, feeling it rude to do anything but follow Miyako further out. The buttercups were left behind, replaced with roses: pink, white, yellow and a vibrant red. At Miyako's nod, he said: 'Something with small petals?'
'Huh?' She was thrown for a loop with the topic change, but nodded thoughtfully. 'Yeah, roses don't seem appropriate somehow.'
Kouichi looked around, hand coming to his temples again as Lavender stalks danced in their vase and a rose lost its petal. 'Lavender?' he suggested.
'Lavender sounds good.' She observed the green stalks and tiny purple heads, before nodding and going over to them. 'Yum, they smell great too.' She picked out a dozen, then put five of them back. 'Seven ought to do. Does your girlfriend like lavender?'
Kouichi had completely forgotten the other thought he was getting flowers for a date. 'Ah…I was buying a bouquet for my stepmother.'
'Oh, whoops.' She laughed, hardly looking the part of the awkward. 'Lavenders would go really well with dark pink roses and – hey, are you feeling alright? You look kind of pale.'
'Migraine,' Kouichi mumbled. The lavenders were setting it off again.
'You'd better go outside.' Miyako looked as though she was going to take his temperature, but instead pushed him in the direction of the store. 'I'll take care of the bouquet for you.'
And Kouichi found himself outside before he could agree, disagree or think about the payment. Though he couldn't deny the soft purple would go very well with the dark pink…and the fresh, if humid, air was a lot better for his headache than the flower shop. The bright sun was no better than dancing flowers though.