Private Flowers are the Stars of the Earth

[Hanae Hirawa]

Hanae loved spring. No season brought more joy to her heart than the season that was practically her namesake. For everyone who knew, springtime meant one thing— or at least to Hanae, it meant one big thing— flowers. And lots of them. The young woman hummed to herself as she tended to her plethora of potted plants in her greenhouse. Kneeling on her knees, hardly caring for modesty at this moment, her long fingers were deft with their work. Checking the soil, ensuring that the fertilizer and water wouldn’t rot the roots.

Like a sixth sense, the woman knew whether plants were happy enough. Not just from their silky-smooth green leaves unblemished by pests or those bright and gorgeous velvet petals. Something spoke to her heart, a feeling deep within her soul that resonated with all flora, and only she could understand these vibrations.

It’s why it had only made sense that today was the day. Her cart was ready. Hanae had stayed up well into the early morning hours thinking about her floral arrangements, and they were all set. Pieced together lovingly, her hands crafting bouquets of intimate wonder. All sorts of flowers had been chosen, all coming from her greenhouse, the rows of bushes, those vines alone on the wall of her home, her blossoming trees, and those gardens holding her beloved rows of flower after flower. From A to Z, there was a flower that she could name better than she could recite the alphabet.

And so, standing up to her feet, rolling her shoulders back, and holding her head high, Hanae left her greenhouse. There was work to be done, a business to start, and the sun was beginning to rise.

---

A deep, heavy sigh escaped through her painted red lips, her dark eyes looking over at her flowers still left over.

There wasn’t much left, only a dozen bouquets and a few parcels of the same blooms for those who desired to make their own floral arrangement. On the outside, it looked like Hanae had had a successful day. However, the issue didn’t lie in not having enough flowers left over but in the fact that she had made very little. Her profits, the thing that she had needed to focus on, were incredibly slim—a few coins.

A few coins worth no more than three or four bouquets.

Where had the young Hirawa gone wrong? Restlessly, she began arranging the flowers in her three-tiered cart, helplessly thinking of her entire day, from late morning to early evening. She had given a few young girls on their way to school each flower. But only one! So that couldn’t have been the problem. Oh, but then Akira had come by, lamenting over his relationship woes. So what was a friend to do but give him a bouquet on the house— after all, everyone knew all women loved flowers, and what was a better gesture of love (or an apology?)

But it didn’t stop there. The more Hanae thought about it, the more she realized that it was through her negligence and big heart that she had royally screwed herself on her first day of opening up “Pocketful of Petals.” Rookie mistake, perhaps?

 

[Hiei]

That's why we gotta stick it to them, Hiei," Said one man in a golden over-shirt that loosely clung to his wide shouldered frame. "Those punks on the fifth level don't have the stones to hold on to their distribution if we just," he grinned wide, and pat a balled up fist into an open palm.

Hiei paid him little mind. His eyes on the road ahead of them, the narrow streets still busy as folk bustled across the market and went about their business. A few folks knew well enough to give the young men a wide berth.

"Look at you, Kenta," Hiei said, voice void of any excitement. "It almost sounds like you did your homework, this time,"

"Ha!" Kenta grinned wide, teeth showing in a show that almost felt threatening. "Look, you want to climb the ranks, right bro?"

Hiei stopped at a corner of a building, his gaze caught by a bud of red, amidst a field of pinks and purples and blues. "Of course," He replied.

Kenta stopped some strides ahead, turned around wide eyed and dumbfounded. "Hey, what's the hold up?"

"Go on," Hiei said as he met Kenta's gaze. "I'll catch up later,"

Kenta scratched his head, sighed and shrugged. "Sure man, whatever," before he turned around and went on walking away. "Catch you at the Grinning Cat," he called back with a raised hand goodbye.

Hiei approached the small cart of flowers labeled Pocketful of Petals, and picked up one of the smaller bouquets. Lift it up to his nose, and took in a long breath through his nose. "How much for this?" He asked the seller without looking to her

 

[Hanae Hirawa]

Hanae pursed her lips together, realizing she had been her own worst enemy today. But there was a bright side, wasn’t there? Perhaps today had needed to be a day that she gave out so many freebies so that she would have returning customers! If that were the case, then what a brilliant strategy. Indeed, tomorrow would bring much more coin into her gaunt-looking coin purse that was hanging off of the bar of her cart.

A smile once again graced the young woman’s face. Even with the sky slowly beginning to change colors, the sun still shone brightly, casting a warm glow onto Hanae and her flower cart. Her bundle of pink peonies seemed to pick up the light in such a way that it inspired Hanae right then and there. Plum blossoms and magnolia would accent that pink and reflect a warm orange rather nicely. But how to warm it up?

With a slight huff, Hanae went around her cart, kneeling, going through flower stalks. Azalea would only drown the entire arrangement to be too pinky or red, and even a violet azalea would cause the whole bouquet to focus on “redness.” So then what? Yellow would stand out, and chrysanthemum was something that added that pop. But didn’t she already have that with the white magnolia? So then… her finger glossed over a piece of sweet osmanthus. A soft orange. Not too gaudy like purple or yellow, but just enough warmth to accentuate the light of a setting sun and—

“Hello, welco—ow!” Hanae gasped out softly, going to stand and hitting the crown of her head onto the wooden ledge of her cart. She whimpered for a moment, rubbing the spot of her injured head, and leaned back, peeking out to see a rather glum-looking man looking over her flowers. She wasn’t sure if he seemed interested in them or was scrutinizing them. Until he took a small bouquet and inhaled it.

She couldn’t help but smile. The bouquet was created to smell divine— layers of jasmine and camellia framed a large yellow narcissus. She frowned. Wait. Only one narcissus? Shouldn’t there have been three, hadn’t she— And then he asked the question.

All of a sudden Hanae looked guilty. She had given two of those narcissuses to two pregnant sisters that she had gone to school with years ago—the perfect thing to cheer them up over their sore feet and aching bodies. Well, subtract the cost, then, right?

“Ah, yes, one moment!” Hanae said, looking down at her hands and beginning to use them to count and calculate whatever it was. “You see, that bouquet is incomplete, so give me some time to charge it correctly.” She added when she had messed up and forgot whatever number she was on. “Okay, okay, so jasmine is only worth this much when there are vines, and there is… one, two, three… wait, but there’s seven. So…” she mumbled to herself.

 

[Hiei]

Hiei watched with little concern for the young lady who clunked her head against the wood of her cart, or the heart warming smile she put on as her eyes fell to the bundle of flowers he held in his hand. Their sweet scent still lingering in his nose as he watched her bumble about the numbers.

Why did she tell him the bouquet was incomplete?

Why was she telling him the price of each individual jasmine, and why they weren't at peak value.

Hiei's eyes narrowed, and his brow twitched as a huff of hot breath was ejected from his nose. His freehand slipped into his purse, as he held the enchanting and imperfect bouquette of flowers in one hand, coins clinked quiet behind the fine silken pouch. Clink, clink, clink. He pulled three silver pieces from its confines and held them out to her.

"This should do," his eyes did not break from hers. "Right?" his steady tone left little room for argument.

 

[Hanae Hirawa]

Hanae was brought out of her dizzying thoughts when she heard the first clink. Her eyes widened at the second clink. Her mouth parted slightly; the most the young woman would ever dare to gape at something, from the third clink. Then his words followed suit, and they rang far more substantial than those three little clinks ever could. A voice powerful enough to outshine money.

“Oh, no!” She said immediately, shaking her head and causing her short bob of dark hair to swish around her fair skin. Hanae was sporting a slight frown, not from unhappiness but rather because she was getting worried. Was this some sort of test? Didn’t he hear her when she said it was incomplete? Three silver coins? Unacceptable.

“While I suppose mathematics isn’t anything I am fond of, even I can tell that’s too much.” She insisted and took only two of the silver coins, her other hand going over to pick up that third coin and then offer it back to the brooding man. “T-thank you for your purchase, though. I am sure your wife will enjoy them!” Hanae said, brightly naive with a bright beaming smile.

 

[Hiei]

His eyes narrowed at her response, their pupils fixed on the shining silver coin she held back for him to take. His lips turned down as she mentioned a wife. "Wife?" he did not take the coin back. "Do you presume so much of all your customers?" the question came hard and cold, still, he did not turn away from her. Roil that he felt in his chest, he could not seem to, still holding on to the little bouquet in his hand.

"For all you know my wife is seven years in the grave-" someone bumped into him, the force of it knocked him forward into the petite young woman, the small flowers pressed between them in a crush of petals and pollens.

 

[Hanae Hirawa]

Hanae lifted a hand to her chest, clutching at the fabric as she realized she had just insulted a paying customer. Perhaps it was wrong of her to assume such a thing, but… did men not buy flowers for their beloved? And while his face was handsome, Hanae could tell, either by how he carried himself or his weathered gaze, that he was older than her. It wasn’t all that awful to assume such a thing, was it?

Although he did bring up a good point. Hanae turned her dark gaze downward, ready to apologize until she felt a horse collide into her. Wait. No. It wasn’t a horse. A wall, perhaps? She felt her nose crunch, a large plate slamming into the very center of her face. Too late, she took a step back, feeling warm liquid cover over her lips.

She raised her hands to touch her nose, and when she felt that slick wetness on her face, her suspicions were confirmed. Hanae looked at Hiei, saw a dark strain right where his sternum was, and then glanced down at her lychee-flesh-covered hands. Her fingers, dainty and small, were smeared in bright crimson. Suddenly, she began to grow dizzy.

“I… I’m s-so sor-sor… s-sorry, ssss… s-sir.” She whispered, her gaze hardly straight, unable to focus on anything as she began to sway on her feet, her knees starting to shake.

 

[Hiei]

The crush turned crunch. When the flower peddler came apart from him it was as if she were falling to pieces. Blood streaked down her mouth, and dribbled and dripped in a steady stream. Hiei looked on, eyes only just a bit wider in reaction to the turn of events.

His hand reached out and grabbed her, his bouquet of flowers, blood stained, fell to the road with a soft rustle. "Here," he said as he helped hold her up, "steady yourself now," he made sure she was firm on her feet before he brought one hand up to her blood soaked chin. "Tilt your head back," he said as he eased her chin up. "Broken noses tend to bleed a lot," his voice was cool, like a tranquil stream. "Let's sit down," he helped her toward the safety of her cart, and eased her weight down as gently as he could.

"What a mess," he said softly to himself. He examined her nose. "I can go and find a healer, to help mend your nose," he assured her. "Will you be alright?"

 

[Hanae Hirawa]

“I’m not good with blood,” Hanae blurted out. Despite it being the truth, she wished for this stranger to know that it wasn’t that she was fragile; it was just that she had never been good with blood. Even when she was young and fearless and thought she could never get hurt, blood scared her, always. And if broken noses bled a lot….

Her pale cheeks flushed as he inspected her face, lifting her chin. His fingers were cool, but underneath, there was a warmth that Hanae could feel. His expression, however, was unflappable. With a slight, short nod of her head, Hanae sat down on her little stool, one hand immediately going to grip the edge of her cart. She closed her eyes tightly as Hiei examined her nose. Being this close to someone felt strange, letting them observe everything wrong with her face. It almost felt wrong.

Somehow, she was acutely aware that her skin was probably dry. The young florist resisted the urge to shake her head in case she would splatter blood everywhere. Why on Khurun would she care about dry skin when her nose was broken and bleeding? Perhaps her mother’s ideals of perfection never really went away.

“You don’t need to get me a healer. I’ll be fine. I’m not dying, r-right?” She asked her tone which had been light, letting in an edge of uncertainty.

 

[Hiei]

"Few are," came the answer quick.

"Hold your nose tight, keep your head level with the ground," he instructed, his fingers still holding that bit of misshapen bone between her eyes. "You are not dying," he assured her. "But you risk having a misshapen nose if no healer comes to attend you," he looked to her cart and her flowers, and the little purse that hung on the handle of the cart. "And judging by how you run your operation, you cannot lose what advantages you still have," he looked back to her, and held his pinched fingers tighter, emphasizing a point. "Here, hold onto this spot," he said before he eased the pressure and moved his hand.

"I know one," he brought the point back, and stood up. Strode over to her purse, and snatched it up. "Never leave your purse out for the world to grab, mind you," he brought it back to her, and let it fall in her lap. "Hide it on you, or at the very least keep it locked in a box only you can open," he offered out his hand, and tilt his head toward the road. "Come, I can at least escort you to the healer before I take my leave,"

 

[Hanae Hirawa]

Hanae winced, partly at his hard words but also from the discomfort of his hard squeeze. She was vaguely aware of the backhanded compliment. She almost felt compelled to say that her nose was hardly an advantage and there were plenty of other noses that were far better, but instead, she listened to his instructions, pinching her small bridge.

She was about to open her mouth, to once again tell him that a healer wasn’t needed, but before she could, he grabbed her purse. Her free hand reached out as if to hold it herself, but even if she could snatch it away from him like he were some thief, what could she do to keep him from taking it back? Suddenly, she felt very, very small. Hanae pouted and slid off her little stool, clutching her floral-patterned coin purse close to her chest.

“I can go there myself.” She said firmly, the first time she had used any tone with Hiei. Without thinking, she began walking in the direction she was facing, gliding past Hiei rather indignantly— although in her head, she felt she was matching the expression he wore on his face. Hanae didn’t even care if she would get frown lines for it. “I know my height is lacking, but I am not a child. I own my business, and I grow all my flowers by myself. Why I could be much, much older than you, and if I am, then… then… the disrespect.” She finished, feeling rather proud in telling him off.

 

[Hiei]

"Is that the way to a family healer you know of?" he asked, placid as the surface of a reflecting pool. Yet, the corner of his lips curled, ever so. A hint. At laugh, or smile. But nothing quite so full. No. "If you grow these flowers yourself," he began, as easy as a gentle wave against sandy soil. "Then you would do well to respect your own efforts," he looked over at the bouquets that still remained, proud heads and bright petals all on display above.

Untouched by the commotion, and the dribbling's of blood that spattered about the street side.

Hiei strode over to the flower peddler, and showed two coins between his fingers. "I'd have paid you five for the bouquet, and thought it a steal," he pocketed the coins again, and walked in a different direction than her. "The healer I know, a real professional, is down this way," he looked back to her. "Judging by how many flowers you'll lose today, I'm sure we can work out some sort of payment plan to ease cost of care," he went off.

If she followed, or not. Well, what did it matter to him?

 

[Hanae Hirawa]

Hanae paused, one foot raised to take another step, but none were taken. Well, she supposed walking off in any direction wasn’t the smartest decision one could make, and she tried not to think how foolish it was on top of it. She slowly turned towards Hiei, wincing as he insulted her again. She did respect her efforts! She shouted in her head, her dark eyes flickering over to the side. She loved tending to her plants, the schedule she had placed on herself to ensure each plant got the water it needed, and figuring out how to create bouquets that would encapsulate beauty better than nature itself could ever do.

She flinched instinctively as Hiei strode over to her, revealing two coins. She pouted. Another insult. She bit her tongue, holding back her ‘so what if they’re more professional than me, there’s no school of artistry for flower arrangement.’ But she said nothing to that remark either.

Somehow, despite her thoughts, she followed after Hiei. It felt only natural to do so, even if she felt like a scolded child following after their babysitter.

“P-payment plan?” Hanae asked, looking up at the man— a man she had barely met minutes ago. “I’m sure I can afford it,” Hanae said defensively, even if she felt a twinge of anxiety inwardly. It was just a broken nose, and it couldn’t cost that much to fix, right? She brought a hand up to her mouth, a finger sliding along her lower lip nervously, resisting the urge to bite at her nail. “But… I do appreciate your guidance in showing me where they are.” The young woman said softly, almost hoping that he didn’t hear it. She was sure he’d find a way to insult that part of her, too.

 

[Hiei]

If he heard her, he did not show it. He kept his stride at an unbroken clip, weaving through the bustling crowd like a fish through river reeds. Natural and instinctual. The lower ring markets were part of his territory, and if he didn't know how to walk through their streets, what hope did he have in holding them?

"First ring of the Old Red Tower, in South Eastern Tortoise block," he said as he glanced back to her, stopping a moment to measure where she was. "That's where their shop is," he turned into an empty alleyway and the walls of the two squat stone buildings framed the iron rust red tower that loomed high above them.

Windows and balconies dotted its exterior like the honey comb cells of a hive, banners with seals and symbols flapped proudly in the cool evening air, their masts like little spines that spiraled up and up the first several levels of the Red Tower at sunset. Pretty decorations, to the eyes of the uninitiated. Valuable information to those who lived by the laws of the Syndicate.
----

A little bell rang above the door as they entered. The smell of spicy incense was thick in the air, and smoke haze hung about the ceiling.

"We are closed," came a rumble of voice from the back of the room. A large figure, draped in smoke and shadow, sat behind a large and sturdy desk, and their broad form stayed stone still.

As they entered, the smoke swirled about him, and birds cooed their caged songs while cats perched all about the many shelves laden with jars of herbs and roots and dried-just-about-everything. "I didn't realize you kept normal hours, Kishi,"

The broad figure leaned forward, and fiery headed dragon-kin emerged from the swirl of smoke, his snaggle toothed mouth almost looked to be smiling. "Hiei," the dragon-kin's voice came like smoke as his green scales glistened in the low light of paper lamps and candle fire. "Come to get a new pet checked up?"

Hiei's eyes narrowed. "Nothing so serious," he stepped aside to reveal the girl. "New acquaintance, broke her nose in an accident," the cold eyed man stopped before a grey cat, and offered out a hand to be sniffed. The green eyed feline blinked a slow blink, raised its chin, and sniffed at his fingers. "Figured you could help,"

The dragon-kin laughed, throaty and leaned back. "Broken noses are easy enough to fix," he took up a fine pipe from its long stem and raised it to his lips. Its bowl still trailed with smoke. He took a puff, and the ember inside it crackled and glowed hot. He let out a long stream of purple-ish smoke, its scent sickly sweet, like fermented fruit. "I'm assuming you are footing the bill,"

The little grey cat rubbed its soft cheek against Hiei's fingers, and he scritched at her chubby cheek. "Of course,"

A rumble, low and from the base of the dragon-kin's throat. "Right,"

 

[Hanae Hirawa]

Hanae tilted her head slightly at the mention of the red tower. There were many towers in Sonshan, none that Hanae would ever be familiar with other than how they appeared on the outside. While she was luckier than most, it wasn’t as if she could afford to not be frugal. Often, those in the towers, well, as Hanae liked to put it lightly, could afford to be frivolous. Whether a tower was old or new, they were all the same, weren’t they?

How wrong she was as she scampered after Hiei, doing her best to keep up with his long and brisk strides.

Stepping inside the red tower, still walking behind Hiei, she was first greeted by the acrid smell of smoke. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, the strong incense giving her nostrils a bit of relief. She looked around, and the place was clean. Her mother had told her to always check the corners of the room to see if a person was actually clean, and yes, the corners were spotless—a breath she had been holding finally released.

Finally, Hiei stepped to the side, revealing the small and timid Hanae. Her hands clutched at the collar of her dress, and she looked around nervously. Cats and birds? Well, the incense made sense. After all, cats and birds tended to be quite stinky. They were not as bad as wet dogs, but they were still cute, stinky little things.

“You brought me to a vet?” Hanae asked, looking over at Hiei with a raised eyebrow. She turned her dark gaze over to Kishi before looking down at the ground, blushing. How rude of her. She supposed that vets were considered a noble profession, especially in Sonshan with the plethora of exotic beasts and pets. Without thinking, she dipped down her head, the crimson still in her cheeks, so she waited a few seconds before standing up straight.

“I-is it expensive to repair a broken nose, sir? I am no… well, I don’t know the trade of being a doctor, b-but! I want to pay for myself and not to bother… him.” Hanae’ s dark gaze flickered over to Hiei. She knew his name now. She also knew Kishi’s name. Yet, as she nervously shuffled her feet, she wasn’t sure it’d be polite to either of their names. It was not like proper introductions had been made.

Besides, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to figure out what Hiei had in mind for a payment plan. Perhaps she was supposed to be his verbal punching bag for a few weeks? Or maybe he’d ask for an exorbitant amount of money with crazy high interest? She blanched at the thought before glancing back at Hiei, momentarily balking.

Her mother had warned her of loan sharks. They were horrible men who constantly used interest to keep people in debt. They often went after those with gambling addictions. Something about them being unable to make an honest living and using dirty tricks to amass enough coin that they needn't worry about marrying well. She looked back down at her feet, crossing her arms in front of her, doing her best to look small— and poor— hoping the two strangers would pity her and not take everything she had.