FIC: Of Flowers and Dreams (PG) for vr2lbast
Author: Riisha
Recipient: vr2lbast
Title: Of Flowers and Dreams
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing(s): Ken, Kurumi, Mamoru, Aya-chan
Summary: Kurumi finds Ken planning for the holidays, while in Japan, someone settles some unfinished business.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1861
Author's Notes: I... I merged the two prompts together. But I feel like I could have made the Ken and Kurumi half... happier. But the mood of one side affected the whole thing. Gosh I don't know what else to say. I hope this is satisfactory u_u (And finally I hope I did this right.)
It was late in the afternoon... almost evening, as he stood on that sidewalk, finding the courage to walk through the door.
He had rehearsed this many times in his head. And he rehearsed them once more. Yet when he stepped up to the front door, he hesitated.
It would have been simple to just walk away and pretend, like always, that there was nothing there. To allow that hope, however small it was.
Yet it was an empty hope all the same, waiting and waiting for nothing.
This needed to be done.
"Ken?"
The brunette man glanced up at the girl in the kitchen entryway. "Ah! Ngh-rumie...!" he mumbled through the spoon in his mouth, in the middle of tasting whatever new sauce he had concocted.
With a dramatic sigh, the blonde girl approached him, pulling the spoon out and ignoring his disgruntled yelp of pain.
"Ow, you coulda pulled a tooth, Kurumi~!" Ken grumbled, rubbing his cheek.
Kurumi shook the spoon at him, then left his side to assess the damage that he had wrought on the kitchen.
"Hey! I was using that!"
"Not when it's been in your mouth!" she reprimanded him. She turned around, inspecting the dirty dishes scattered all over the kitchen counter with a careful eye. "Are you cooking lunch already?" She gave him a dubious look considering how early it was in the morning.
"Experimenting!" he replied joyfully. "I found a recipe that I really wanted to try, but then I didn't like it so I just changed so many things."
"Experimenting for what?"
"You know, I was thinking of making a great dinner for Christmas," Ken told her with his great grin.
"Oh then will we have ham and turkey and stuffing and pie?" Kurumi began to list food typical of a Western Christmas dinner.
"I was trying that," Ken scrunched up his nose, folding his arms. "But it's getting complicated. So I was thinking... Maybe we could have a hotpot! That would be nice in this cold weather, wouldn't it? Do you think that the others will like dumplings?"
"Japanese food for Christmas?" The girl's voice was dubious.
"Of course!" Ken shook a finger in front of her, a serious expression on his face. "And if the others don't like it, then that's their problem."
Kurumi gave him a dumbfounded look. Somehow she heard the hidden words between the lines he spoke, and that he seemed to be aiming the statement at a particular acquaintance of theirs. After a moment, she brought a hand up to her mouth and laughed softly. "Well, I guess that's true."
"Busy now?" Ken asked, now hunting under the kitchen sink for another mixing bowl he could use.
"Oh no, I just helped someone who asked for a large delivery of flowers. So many flowers!" she laughed a little, already beginning to put away the used pots. "You'd think that he wanted to fill the whole world with flowers-- Ken?"
There was concern in her voice at the loud thud. A string of profanities came after, followed by a few more thuds, the sounds of Ken kicking the cabinet door.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Ken grumbled. "A world full of flowers, huh?"
"Yes," Kurumi agreed, giggling lightly to himself. As Ken continued to pull out more cookery for whatever he planned to concoct next, she let her mind wander, trying to imagine what it was like to have a world full of flowers.
The small bell above the door announced his arrival, the sweet scent of flowers filling his nostrils, filling him with memories from a lifetime ago. He named the plants in his mind as he saw them, the flower words coming to him as easily as their names.
He had barely taken another step when a young man approached him, asking what he wanted. But he was more interested in the other one... A girl with long dark hair.
She wore a bright smile as she greeted him. Her hair swung at her back as she asked him amiably what he wanted to buy. Roses perhaps, or carnations?
But no, he was not buying any flowers today.
"Oi, Kurumi."
"Hm?
"So did you come here to help me?" He leaned down in front of her, with that narrow-eyed, accusing look of his. "Or maybe you were just here to stalk me."
"What?" Kurumi dropped out of her daze, then glanced in surprise at how quickly the kitchen island had morphed. Somehow, a new set of dishes had been set out, covered in a new assortment of vegetables and ingredients. A pan filled with a dark sauce sat on a lit stove and the timer was running. Whatever it was, it smelled wonderful.
She looked back at his expectant face... then brought a hand to her mouth, laughing softly. Ken had always seemed like the type to get carried away with things like this. She could imagine him being at home, having a family, cooking for his loved ones. She knew that it wasn't like that at all, of course, knowing what he and the others did for a living.
But what of the time before that?
"Ken," she asked him, the curiosity getting the better of her. "What was it like back in Japan?"
Ken snorted, lifting the spoon to shake it at her, drizzling the counter with sauce. "A lot like this, actually."
"Oh," Kurumi pursed her lips, deciding she wasn't satisfied with the answer. "Was there anyone that you and Aya left behind? In Japan?"
She bit down on her lip as soon she had said it. Was that too much? She hesitated before taking a better look at her companion. He had stopped stirring whatever he'd had in his mixing bowl, staring into it silently, but his gaze was distant. It worried her almost. She knew she shouldn't have said anything.
It was only a few moments, but to Kurumi it felt like forever. Soon, Ken's expression changed and he continued what he was doing, his mood suddenly chipper again. "I have nothing in Japan," he told her, his face covered in his usual large grin.
"... oh," she conceded, letting her gaze fall to the floor.
She didn't ask him why the smile didn't make it all the way to his eyes.
This was the first time he met her, face to face. She sat across from him, twirling a lock of hair in her finger. She looked uncomfortable; she'd even hesitated earlier when he'd asked her to come with him in the first place. He felt guilty for it, but he couldn't blame her in the slightest.
Of course, she knew him. She must have seen his face a few times in papers, on the television. He had grown quite popular recently, his various achievements making the news frequently. Or perhaps she knew him from a distant memory... the type that felt like it was only a dream... as surreal as the feeling of déjà vu.
Of course, he knew her. He had seen her more than once. A couple of times while she still slept on her hospital bed. Again when they'd needed to rescue her. Countless times afterwards, when he snuck out on his own to investigate the shop and see what had become of it over the years.
They were worlds apart, but were tied together more than she knew.
More than she could ever know.
"Ken..."
"Ah!" he interrupted her, his voice rising over the sudden beep from the oven timer. "It's ready...!"
Kurumi wrung her fingers together, even while Ken hastily removed the pan from the fire. He cursed when some of it spilled on the stove, which was very unlike him. She realized that he was distracted.
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault, you were all the way over there," his voice was a soft grumble, muttering over needing to wipe the stove clean later.
"I mean... I shouldn't have said anything."
"What's that? I told you it's nothing. Now here," he passed her a cutting board and a few cloves of garlic. She sighed, taking the knife from him and setting to work.
An uncomfortable silence lingered around them, permeated only by the sound of her knife on the board. When she was finished, she picked up the board again and brought it to Ken.
The young man sat, silently, seemingly lost in thought. She'd needed to prod him before he realized she was there.
"Oh thanks." She barely heard him say as he took the board from her and scraped the garlic into the pan.
"I'm sorr-..."
"I told you to quit that," he almost growled it out, making her flinch. He immediately looked remorseful after, waving a hand at her. "... Eh. I was just thinking," he amended the statement. His voice sounded like it came from some place far away.
"About Japan...?" she asked meekly.
"Kind of. Eh, but like I said, there's nothing left there for me." Ken grinned "I guess I'm kinda lucky that way?"
Kurumi still wasn't convinced. But she let it slide, another question coming up instead, "What about Aya?"
"... Hm? What about Aya?"
She said quietly. "You knew each other from before. What about him?"
"Eh... I don't know if I can say," the brunette rubbed his head uneasily. But with one look at the young girl's face and he let out a sigh of resignation. "Aya? Well..."
Ken sighed dramatically, his tone melancholic as he revealed.
"Aya left his world in Japan."
Her body wracked with sobs, her face buried in her hands as the tea set in front of her lay untouched. Every sound tore at him and stabbed at his heart. He drowned in her despair, his other self dying a little with every shake of her shoulders.
There were white lies, of course. He'd fabricated a story of how he'd known him. 'The man worked for me' or such nonsense. He didn't say how 'it' had happened. She asked him no questions. All the better. All the worse.
He knew he could stop her tears. If he only retracted his words. If only he could tell her the truth. He could tear off the mask for a moment. For one person.
He wanted to tell her.
Of florists and cats.
Of flower words, code names and secrets.
Of dark knights that hunted the wicked under the name of righteousness.
Of blood and justice.
Of darkness and light.
Of a brother's love, so deep that he bought an express ticket to the underworld only for her happiness.
Of a brother's love, so deep that he would spare her of what his love had done for her.
It all remained unsaid, only because he couldn't betray a former comrade, a man he may have considered a friend. Because he couldn't burden her with those words.
And so her tears fell as he sat across from her.
And so the mask remained.
Kurumi's face had fallen and Ken's mood sombered at the look. He lifted a hand, continuing in a cheerful tone to reassure her.
"But, I think he doesn't mind. As long as it's safe."
It was better this way.
Recipient: vr2lbast
Title: Of Flowers and Dreams
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing(s): Ken, Kurumi, Mamoru, Aya-chan
Summary: Kurumi finds Ken planning for the holidays, while in Japan, someone settles some unfinished business.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1861
Author's Notes: I... I merged the two prompts together. But I feel like I could have made the Ken and Kurumi half... happier. But the mood of one side affected the whole thing. Gosh I don't know what else to say. I hope this is satisfactory u_u (And finally I hope I did this right.)
It was late in the afternoon... almost evening, as he stood on that sidewalk, finding the courage to walk through the door.
He had rehearsed this many times in his head. And he rehearsed them once more. Yet when he stepped up to the front door, he hesitated.
It would have been simple to just walk away and pretend, like always, that there was nothing there. To allow that hope, however small it was.
Yet it was an empty hope all the same, waiting and waiting for nothing.
This needed to be done.
"Ken?"
The brunette man glanced up at the girl in the kitchen entryway. "Ah! Ngh-rumie...!" he mumbled through the spoon in his mouth, in the middle of tasting whatever new sauce he had concocted.
With a dramatic sigh, the blonde girl approached him, pulling the spoon out and ignoring his disgruntled yelp of pain.
"Ow, you coulda pulled a tooth, Kurumi~!" Ken grumbled, rubbing his cheek.
Kurumi shook the spoon at him, then left his side to assess the damage that he had wrought on the kitchen.
"Hey! I was using that!"
"Not when it's been in your mouth!" she reprimanded him. She turned around, inspecting the dirty dishes scattered all over the kitchen counter with a careful eye. "Are you cooking lunch already?" She gave him a dubious look considering how early it was in the morning.
"Experimenting!" he replied joyfully. "I found a recipe that I really wanted to try, but then I didn't like it so I just changed so many things."
"Experimenting for what?"
"You know, I was thinking of making a great dinner for Christmas," Ken told her with his great grin.
"Oh then will we have ham and turkey and stuffing and pie?" Kurumi began to list food typical of a Western Christmas dinner.
"I was trying that," Ken scrunched up his nose, folding his arms. "But it's getting complicated. So I was thinking... Maybe we could have a hotpot! That would be nice in this cold weather, wouldn't it? Do you think that the others will like dumplings?"
"Japanese food for Christmas?" The girl's voice was dubious.
"Of course!" Ken shook a finger in front of her, a serious expression on his face. "And if the others don't like it, then that's their problem."
Kurumi gave him a dumbfounded look. Somehow she heard the hidden words between the lines he spoke, and that he seemed to be aiming the statement at a particular acquaintance of theirs. After a moment, she brought a hand up to her mouth and laughed softly. "Well, I guess that's true."
"Busy now?" Ken asked, now hunting under the kitchen sink for another mixing bowl he could use.
"Oh no, I just helped someone who asked for a large delivery of flowers. So many flowers!" she laughed a little, already beginning to put away the used pots. "You'd think that he wanted to fill the whole world with flowers-- Ken?"
There was concern in her voice at the loud thud. A string of profanities came after, followed by a few more thuds, the sounds of Ken kicking the cabinet door.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Ken grumbled. "A world full of flowers, huh?"
"Yes," Kurumi agreed, giggling lightly to himself. As Ken continued to pull out more cookery for whatever he planned to concoct next, she let her mind wander, trying to imagine what it was like to have a world full of flowers.
The small bell above the door announced his arrival, the sweet scent of flowers filling his nostrils, filling him with memories from a lifetime ago. He named the plants in his mind as he saw them, the flower words coming to him as easily as their names.
He had barely taken another step when a young man approached him, asking what he wanted. But he was more interested in the other one... A girl with long dark hair.
She wore a bright smile as she greeted him. Her hair swung at her back as she asked him amiably what he wanted to buy. Roses perhaps, or carnations?
But no, he was not buying any flowers today.
"Oi, Kurumi."
"Hm?
"So did you come here to help me?" He leaned down in front of her, with that narrow-eyed, accusing look of his. "Or maybe you were just here to stalk me."
"What?" Kurumi dropped out of her daze, then glanced in surprise at how quickly the kitchen island had morphed. Somehow, a new set of dishes had been set out, covered in a new assortment of vegetables and ingredients. A pan filled with a dark sauce sat on a lit stove and the timer was running. Whatever it was, it smelled wonderful.
She looked back at his expectant face... then brought a hand to her mouth, laughing softly. Ken had always seemed like the type to get carried away with things like this. She could imagine him being at home, having a family, cooking for his loved ones. She knew that it wasn't like that at all, of course, knowing what he and the others did for a living.
But what of the time before that?
"Ken," she asked him, the curiosity getting the better of her. "What was it like back in Japan?"
Ken snorted, lifting the spoon to shake it at her, drizzling the counter with sauce. "A lot like this, actually."
"Oh," Kurumi pursed her lips, deciding she wasn't satisfied with the answer. "Was there anyone that you and Aya left behind? In Japan?"
She bit down on her lip as soon she had said it. Was that too much? She hesitated before taking a better look at her companion. He had stopped stirring whatever he'd had in his mixing bowl, staring into it silently, but his gaze was distant. It worried her almost. She knew she shouldn't have said anything.
It was only a few moments, but to Kurumi it felt like forever. Soon, Ken's expression changed and he continued what he was doing, his mood suddenly chipper again. "I have nothing in Japan," he told her, his face covered in his usual large grin.
"... oh," she conceded, letting her gaze fall to the floor.
She didn't ask him why the smile didn't make it all the way to his eyes.
This was the first time he met her, face to face. She sat across from him, twirling a lock of hair in her finger. She looked uncomfortable; she'd even hesitated earlier when he'd asked her to come with him in the first place. He felt guilty for it, but he couldn't blame her in the slightest.
Of course, she knew him. She must have seen his face a few times in papers, on the television. He had grown quite popular recently, his various achievements making the news frequently. Or perhaps she knew him from a distant memory... the type that felt like it was only a dream... as surreal as the feeling of déjà vu.
Of course, he knew her. He had seen her more than once. A couple of times while she still slept on her hospital bed. Again when they'd needed to rescue her. Countless times afterwards, when he snuck out on his own to investigate the shop and see what had become of it over the years.
They were worlds apart, but were tied together more than she knew.
More than she could ever know.
"Ken..."
"Ah!" he interrupted her, his voice rising over the sudden beep from the oven timer. "It's ready...!"
Kurumi wrung her fingers together, even while Ken hastily removed the pan from the fire. He cursed when some of it spilled on the stove, which was very unlike him. She realized that he was distracted.
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault, you were all the way over there," his voice was a soft grumble, muttering over needing to wipe the stove clean later.
"I mean... I shouldn't have said anything."
"What's that? I told you it's nothing. Now here," he passed her a cutting board and a few cloves of garlic. She sighed, taking the knife from him and setting to work.
An uncomfortable silence lingered around them, permeated only by the sound of her knife on the board. When she was finished, she picked up the board again and brought it to Ken.
The young man sat, silently, seemingly lost in thought. She'd needed to prod him before he realized she was there.
"Oh thanks." She barely heard him say as he took the board from her and scraped the garlic into the pan.
"I'm sorr-..."
"I told you to quit that," he almost growled it out, making her flinch. He immediately looked remorseful after, waving a hand at her. "... Eh. I was just thinking," he amended the statement. His voice sounded like it came from some place far away.
"About Japan...?" she asked meekly.
"Kind of. Eh, but like I said, there's nothing left there for me." Ken grinned "I guess I'm kinda lucky that way?"
Kurumi still wasn't convinced. But she let it slide, another question coming up instead, "What about Aya?"
"... Hm? What about Aya?"
She said quietly. "You knew each other from before. What about him?"
"Eh... I don't know if I can say," the brunette rubbed his head uneasily. But with one look at the young girl's face and he let out a sigh of resignation. "Aya? Well..."
Ken sighed dramatically, his tone melancholic as he revealed.
"Aya left his world in Japan."
Her body wracked with sobs, her face buried in her hands as the tea set in front of her lay untouched. Every sound tore at him and stabbed at his heart. He drowned in her despair, his other self dying a little with every shake of her shoulders.
There were white lies, of course. He'd fabricated a story of how he'd known him. 'The man worked for me' or such nonsense. He didn't say how 'it' had happened. She asked him no questions. All the better. All the worse.
He knew he could stop her tears. If he only retracted his words. If only he could tell her the truth. He could tear off the mask for a moment. For one person.
He wanted to tell her.
Of florists and cats.
Of flower words, code names and secrets.
Of dark knights that hunted the wicked under the name of righteousness.
Of blood and justice.
Of darkness and light.
Of a brother's love, so deep that he bought an express ticket to the underworld only for her happiness.
Of a brother's love, so deep that he would spare her of what his love had done for her.
It all remained unsaid, only because he couldn't betray a former comrade, a man he may have considered a friend. Because he couldn't burden her with those words.
And so her tears fell as he sat across from her.
And so the mask remained.
Kurumi's face had fallen and Ken's mood sombered at the look. He lifted a hand, continuing in a cheerful tone to reassure her.
"But, I think he doesn't mind. As long as it's safe."
It was better this way.