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Daisy Chains

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Rinko was making daisy chains. She and Ryo were sitting together on the grass chatting, and Rinko’s hands had been busy the whole time: plucking daisies; carefully piercing the stems with her nails, and threading them through one another. Ryo helped too, each flower in his reach ending up on Rinko’s lap – some that weren’t daisies too, but Rinko would try and thread them all on.

She gave the first daisy necklace to Ryo, and started on another.

‘You know, you’re giving me an idea,’ Ryo said.

Oh?’ Rinko looked up with a smile.

‘A different type of bondage,’ Ryo said. ‘If you use a daisy chain, see, then it’s not that they can’t escape, it’s that they choose not to escape. Or they’d break it. Like an honour bondage-type thing.’

‘Is that what you’ve been thinking about this whole time?’ Rinko asked.

‘I can just imagine it,’ Ryo said, holding his hands like he were framing a picture, with Rinko in the centre. ‘Just flowers.’

Rinko’s sudden blush was a surprise; like she was picturing it too.

‘Honour bondage,’ she said.

‘Yeah. So it’s not that you trust me to tie you up, it’s that I trust you to act like I have.’ He said the words easily, as if it didn’t occur to him how the pronouns sounded; not till he reached the end of the sentence. ‘I mean. Not that I’m picturing you, Rinko, or anything.’

‘No, no,’ Rinko said. ‘I mean … it doesn’t sound bad. It’s only flowers, right?’

‘Right,’ Ryo said, becoming eager again.

Rinko looked down at the flowers on her lap.

‘I think,’ she said, ‘we’d need a lot more flowers than this.’

‘I can pick them,’ Ryo said. ‘I can absolutely pick them.’

Rinko covered her mouth with her hand, but she was smiling. ‘I don’t know how long a daisy chain I can make without breaking it.’

‘Then let’s find out,’ Ryo said, and got to his feet to hunt for more flowers.

And Rinko kept threading on daisies.