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it started in the fall, when they were studying in leblanc and he went to pick up his pencil. chamomile started to bloom from his fingers and he screamed in horror.
ryuji woke up from his short nap to see the white petals falling onto akiras textbook, face full of worry.
the doctor hadn’t been able to find a reason. so akira hid himself in his room.
ryuji showed up every day to find pink petals scattering his floor. begonias, akira told him.
ryuji bought a flower dictionary in order to keep up with akira’s moods. he had to learn. he sat with him every day after school and learned the new language for his friend who no longer had the words.
“these mean happiness,” ryuji observed, picking up a lily of the valley petal. “means that you’re happy again.”
“i have been, yeah,” akira muttered as he watched the snow fall.
ryuji handed him a black, soft blanket for his gift. ryuji watched as he rubbed his hands on it, the lilly of the valley’s turning to yellow acadias.
in the spring akira’s hands found ryuji’s tightly, pink camellias falling as their lips pressed together for the first time. as ryuji got bolder orange rose petals decorated akira’s bed, and ryuji didn’t think akira could get more beautiful with his lips glistening, neck fresh with soft purple mixed with orange.
the summer came and went with more hand holding, more flowers, more boldness from ryuji.
“did you...before the flowers, feel this way?” akira questioned as they sat underneath a tree in the park.
ryuji chuckled and looked at him. “long before then, dude,” and he brought akira’s hand up to kiss his knuckles.
primrose fell, before dark red and white carnations mixed in. ryuji gasped and looked up at akira in wonder.
“you know what those mean, right?” akira smirked at him.
ryuji picked up a red petal and smiled. “of course, i’ve been waiting for these to bloom.”