Hanae somehow became paler from Hiei’s words and his second shake. For someone who was serious all the time, look at how he was handling another person’s property! All Hanae could think was how they’d now have to hide the box somewhere if it was broken. Maybe when they went to the Morikami home, they could toss the box near a wall or a common walkway?

She snatched the box quickly, holding it tightly to her chest.

“You’re not shaking this again.” She said sternly, looking at Hiei with a mild frown. She went to go and hide the box from him, before he decided he wanted to treat the box like how she had treated her bouquets the day before.

Hanae came back to Hiei taking a bite from the lunch she had prepare for him. Hanae was not a excellent cook, but she was a good cook. The few things that she could make, which ironically were either her grandma’s famous spicy noodles or vegetable dishes, were made very well. Of course one could argue that they were side dishes and not a main course, but Hanae had always had a particular fondness to rice.

Shouldn’t rice be the main course?

“Oh. No, Hiei,” Hanae felt her cheeks grow hot and she held up her hands as she shook her head. “I made one for me too. That one is just for you. Please enjoy it fully.” She glanced at her sign, and at the flowers on display. She didn’t feel hungry at all, and she had even skipped breakfast this morning to make sure she had everything ready for today.

“I can’t wait,” She said, partially to herself, “to bring them the flowers. I know I’ll see joy in their eyes, even with that woman.”
 
Hiei shrugged, and popped the broccoli into his mouth, chewed, and went on eating. "Make sure you eat," he reminded her. "We have a dozen bouquets to make, and deliver," he shovelled a clump of rice into his mouth next.

He smiled, small and to himself as Hanae looked over the cart, and said some sweet bit of honesty to herself. He felt his face warm again, and he looked away, content.

To be wrapped in such delicate tenderness. A feeling like flower petals, bound together with the want to bloom. Each breath sweet with the smell of it all.

What an odd sadness he felt. An ache.

"Well," he said between chewing and plopping more food into his mouth. "We should get going on those orders right?" He scooped up the last bit of food, and closed the tin. "Eat something, I'll get the cart moving," he said with sure voice. His eyes found hers, I remember the way. They seemed to say, and he already moved to put up the sign.
 
The Morikami's home was neither sprawling nor compact. It seemed to find a happy medium, nestled between the towering buildings around it. A tall stone wall surrounded the grounds and separated it from the street traffic. It stood open most of the time, with but a single gatekeeper posted up outside. Within the walls, a garden courtyard led to several outbuildings, as well as the main residence. On a warm spring day like this, the sliding doors and windows were all open, leaving few visual barriers between the inside and the gardens outside.

There was more commotion today than usual. Servants were running about, sweeping debris off the ledges in fine puffs of dust and and airing out oft neglected corners of the estate. Everything and everyone needed to be in perfect order, for the return of the house's matriarch later that evening.

Ginrou was in the kitchen, cooking the midday meal. His hair was tied up off his neck as he worked, and he'd shed his fancy outer robes to keep them from getting dirty. He'd been trying to learn more Taagi Baara dishes lately. Today's challenge was dumplings deep fried in mutton fat. Hot oil sizzled in the pan, crackling against the meat and dough. It was supposed to be a simple dish, be he didn't really know if he was doing it right. The recipe book next to him made no comment about what texture or color the dumplings should be when they were done. That was something a local would already know, after all.

Though his mind ought to be on other things, he kept thinking about the two flower sellers. Hiei and Hanae. Even with the rocky start to the conversation, they worked so well together. What had she said? He does the math so I can grow the flowers. Maybe that's how things were supposed to be. People could just do what they were good at, and not worry about the rest.

A splash of oil jumped out of the pan and bit Gin on the hand. He startled with a sharp inhale, and took a step back. A painful reminder. Just because he'd had such an exciting morning, didn't mean he could zone out yet. There was still so much to do...
 
“I can eat later,” Hanae insisted as she made sure the Morikami family seal was in a secure place, alongside that strange black box tied in silver ribbon. With Hiei moving the cart for her, she was free to walk beside him, ebullient at the prospect of her first big order. Everyone knew that florists made their money from large orders such as these: whether it was a wedding, funeral or other celebratory reason.

As they came to her home, Hanae did, out of habit more than anything else, instruct where the cart should go. When she turned her head, she saw her rows of peonies. She did not have blue peonies— and for good reason! The soil often had to be poisoned to get peonies to be such a color and Hanae would rather protect her plants— but there was a series of other colors.

Her dark eyes focused on her pride and joy of all her peonies: the thousand-petal crown peonies. Hard and fickle to grow, Hanae had yet to master blending different colors together and only had white, yellow, and red.

Hanae grabbed her clippers and went over to the yellow ones, snipping off half a dozen. The man, Gin, had really wanted the peonies, hadn’t he?

She only hoped that yellow would be alright.

“So,” She turned towards Hiei, smiling while holding the long peony stalks in the crook of her arm as if it were a newborn. “Let me show you the ins and outs of being a budding florist.” Hanae said, heading back to where her carnations were.
 
This place again. It looked different in the day. Though he already knew that, didn't he? Standing around in the garden though, that was new. He didn't remember the garden. He breathed in the smell of it. All the flowers. It made him feel dizzy. A bit lost in the haze of all their sweetness as he stood by and feigned disinterest.

Easier than admitting he was scared.

The walk they had shared. He scrunched his brow. Huffed. Business partners. He reminded himself, and stepped away from the parked cart.

Probably best to see what she was up to, right? Offer his assistance. But she popped up, flowers cradled in her arms, with big proud heads in full bloom. Hiei blinked, didn't feel the flush that crept up his neck. Bowed his head. "Eager to learn!" he announced, and followed after Hanae when she turned.


"Ginrou," came a small hushed voice from just behind the busy young scion's shoulder. "Busy tending to the function, I1779604491732.webp see," the voice did little to hide the smile on the young woman's face, though with all the noise of the sizzling oil, and the crackling flame, it was hard to tell if the towering youth had heard her.

But he was busy. And, if there was something she had always loved about Rou, it was how he got lost in the things he loved.

Yon, second daughter of the Mun family, watched as the Ginrou worked. A small smile worn across her lips as he tended the plump bits of food, so full of ingredients she knew he had folded in with care.

"Smells spicy," she added. But he went on working. Till the oil popped and he sucked in a breath, his trance broken from the dance of the fire and the shimmer of the rich oil and fat. "Oh!" she announced, seeing the pain flash across his face. Put a hand on his arm, and offered her hand to him. "I can, I can heal it if you want, Rou," she said, worry there in her periwinkle eyes.
 
Ginrou nearly crawled out of his own skin when he felt a hand on his arm and heard that soft, sweet voice. Every muscle in his body froze, as his spine straightened and his eyes focused straight ahead. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her hand held out to him, delicate fingers tipped with white. Not quite claws and not quite nails, either.

"Ah, Yon, I didn't see you there." He could feel a flush blooming at the tips of his ears. They weren't supposed to see each other unsupervised like this - especially not when he was all sticky from the heat of the kitchen, and so dressed down. After all, they weren't kids anymore. But he couldn't exactly turn her away either, not after she'd already approached him.

Brown eyes looked down to meet those clear blue ones. He remembered to move, and shifted away from his work to face her. What had she asked him? Right. Something he absolutely couldn't agree to.

"There's no need to exert yourself for such a small hurt." A smile, that's what was needed. Gin softened his expression, corners of his mouth lifting in a practiced movement. He took her hand in his, as if to show her that the burn wasn't that serious. Even though it did sting quite a lot, and he could see the red mark already starting to blister across his knuckles. "You've just started feeling better, right?"

The sound of the crackling oil dulled, the smells shifted ever so, and Gin's attention was drawn back to the dumplings.

"Oh, they're going to burn!" he exclaimed. He pulled away from Yon's touch and gripped the pan in both hands, taking it off the flame. The last of the doughy dumplings sizzled haphazardly. Grabbing a pair of tongs, Gin placed them to cool in the flat woven basket where the rest lay. Dumplings rescued, Gin let out a sigh of relief.

"Sorry," he apologized to Yon, glancing at her. A little more comfortable now that he had an excuse to put his hands somewhere else, as he busied himself with the last preparations. "What were you saying before?"
 
1779604837577.webpYon's eyes narrowed, a glint of mischief there in as he stepped away and hid behind propriety.

But she heard the angry hiss of the oil and smelled the subtle change from rich hot spice, to the first signs of bitter carbon.

Her eyes went wide as she watched Ginrou tend to his work, skillful hands grabbing up the wooden tool and pulled the dough wrapped buns of meat out of the sizzling oil. Gingerly laying them to rest in a their cradle. A catlike smile formed across her lips.

"No, you have nothing to apologize for, Rou," she said, and stepped closer to him again, took his large strong hand into hers, her grip gentle and firm. She pulled his hand closer to her, bowed her head, and blew a cold breath across its surface.

A winter wind that cooled the heat of the burn, and turned the flesh back from the angry red, to its spring day fair. She smiled, and held his hand a moment longer. Then let it go.

"I'm flattered you would make khuushuur, Rou," she said softly. "It is your mother's return we celebrate, yet," she turned her head a moment as she let the warmth fill her cheeks. How many times had they shared the fried and flaky goodness together over the years. Beneath the plum trees in bloom, while Genki noodled about, begging for scraps. "No, I presume too much," she said more quietly, and looked to him with her tender gaze.

Her eyes came closed, and her lips curled up into her own half smile. "It just smelled so good, I had to come see if I could sneak a bite,"
 
Gin found his head bowing toward the crown of hers, as she pulled him closer once more. With one soothing breath, she drew the heat from his skin and replaced it with a cold that healed. There wasn't a single line of worry on her face as she worked. She smiled at him. Didn't let go right away, even after the sorcery had run its course. Gin's eyes were too preoccupied gazing down at her, to curve up into a return smile.

Would her lips be cold, too?

He blinked the thought away. When she let go of his hand, Gin retracted it. His other thumb smoothed over the place where the burn had been. Gone now. Dry, whole skin left in its place. There was no reason to act like a wounded animal anymore, but he still pouted a bit as she went on. Trying to tease something out of him. A confession?

She looked almost innocent there, standing with her eyes closed, complimenting his cooking. Gin knew better. A little laugh escaped him. Not exactly kind, but the smirk he wore was something more earnest.

"Is that all?" he asked. Plucking one of the nicer looking kuurshuur from the basket, Ginrou pressed both thumbs into the doughy middle of it. With a crisp sound, it split in two. The waft of steam spread the rich smell around. Red meat seasoned with the red spices of the Mountain folk.

He kept one half to himself, reached a hand out and held the other half under Yon's nose. "Take a bite, then."
 
1779604935576.webpHe gave a little laugh. A mean little thing that had her eyes peek open. Saw the way his lips crooked. So sure of himself. Shining as he was from all of his work.

A cool misty breath escaped her lips. A thin layer of rime frosted the pink petals of her mouth, and she quickly drew them in with short surprised breath, her eyes wide as she watched him rip the doughy morsel apart and offer her half.

Whatever cold she had felt melted away. Her face warmed by the heady scent of spices and peppers, and dribbling fat. Her eyes were wide, and she could feel her mouth water. She blinked. Huffed, and smiled as she turned away, feigning upset as she pout and crossed her arms.

"Really, Rou?" she played with her hair about her ears. "We aren't children anymore," she stone voiced. Her eyes flicked back, gleamed, her long tooth poked over the plump of her bottom lip.

She snatched up the flakey food item, quick as a snake grabbing a rabbit that might run away. Her alight with excitement as as he passed the food stuff between her hands and blew on the meaty, juicy, overflowing stuffs that threatned to dribble over the sides.

Lips pouty, she blew on it with short little puffs, and promptly took a big bight out of it. She made a sound of sheer joy. Tears in her eyes. "It's hot," she squeaked, still chewed, and took another bight. "Show gewd," she said through full cheeks.
 
She was so fast, inhumanly so. One moment he was holding the dumpling half, and the next there was naught but grease and dough flakes left on his fingers. It shouldn't of surprised him anymore, but it always did.

Gin nursed his own half, chewing through it slowly. The rich, fried food was good for life on windy bluffs. It staved off the cold, and sustained the hard work that marked mountain life. But for a prince of Sonshan, it was a bit heavy for the midday meal. It seemed perfect for Yon, though. She ate with big bites, devouring the morsel after just a few cheekfuls.

Maybe this was a good time to ask her something. They wouldn't have many other moments alone like this, and she seemed to be in a good mood.

"Yon, there's something that's been troubling me lately." Gin leaned back against the kitchen counter. He held the half dumpling in his hand as it let off more steam. A line of pepper-stained oil dribbled down his wrist. He wasn't being very careful. "What do you want to do? In the future, I mean. If I'm going to support you, I'd like to know."
 
1779605051721.webpShe was still licking her fingers when Rou got all, well, Rou about things. She wiped the warm grease that coated her lips and the corner of her mouth on the back of her hand. And smiled, knowing and sharp as she looked at her betrothed.

"If," she started, and took a step toward him, her thin ox-like tail swished behind her, the wispy hairs at its end whishing like the strands of a fine feathered fan. Her long claw-like fingers traced his arm, scratched at the well made linen of his simple attire, and rasped across the hills and valleys of his form before they hitched away.

The tips of her fingers tickled and tingly, warm from the dumpling he had made for her as she clutched them into a a tight fist. The pad of her thumb tracing the feeling, as if the little friction there against her skin would keep it longer. "You support me, Rou, then you'll come to find out,"

She stopped at the archway that marked the entrance to the elaborate kitchen. Turned toward Rou, and smiled her half smile, her eyes closed again. "Thank you for indulging me, Ginrou," she said fondly, and bowed her head to him. "I am glad I got to see you like this," she rose, and turned to leave.
 
Yon took a step towards him, and he didn't lean into it this time. Hands clutching at the wood, knuckles pale, Gin stood trapped against the edge of the counter. Yon had given him an answer he'd expected, so why was his heart beating so fast?

"I understand." Ginrou swallowed. He watched the movement of her hands with hard eyes. He showed his teeth, but not in a smile. "You can do whatever you like, can't you, Yon?"

After she left, he stood alone in the empty kitchen. Ginrou let out a sigh, but not in relief. He placed the half dumpling still clutched in his hand down somewhere - anywhere, he'd lost his appetite and didn't care to recover it.

Back scraping against the edge of the counter, Gin sank to the floor. Wrapped his arms around the place where she'd touched him. Stared at nothing for a little while.

Once his chest stopped pounding, he pushed himself up. Eyes fell to the basketful of kuurshuur dumplings. There was so many still leftover.

"Now, what am I going to do with all of these?"
 
Hanae smiled at the bundles of pink carnations, neatly tied in green ribbon. Of course, amongst them were the half-dozen yellow peonies. They were starkly bright against the soft pink, and altogether, the flowers looked as if they made another flower entirely. The young woman looked towards Hiei, her business partner.

He had been a rather good sport, even when Hanae had gently taken the scissors from him and told him to just watch her as she proceeded to cut the rest of the stems.

“Have you been to Gold District before?” Hanae asked, taking hold of the box and the Morikami family seal and managing to hold a good portion of the order.

At the ends of the green stems, Hanae had shown Hiei a bit of genius in oiling a sack so that water wouldn’t drip through it and could keep the flowers from wilting too quickly.

“I know the way.” She added, trying to grab hold of the black box tied with silver ribbon. She struggled, but somehow managed to hold it with it pressed hard against her chest. “Won’t be hard to find the Morikami estate, I think.”
 
There were so many little tricks he had never really thought of. How even the angle of the cut on the stem could make a difference in how long the flowers would stay fresh. Or the trick with the oiled canvas.

"I have," he admitted. Often enough in fact. But he wouldn't share that bit of information, even if she pressed. Instead, he watched her gather up all the things on her own as he finished bundling he last few bouquets how she had taught him.

He had only really started to feel good about the last few, and felt a bit of the calm magic that came with a new craft in the last one but now, he only saw her. Her arms shaking with the strain of the burden, before she pressed it against herself.

Hiei cleared his throat, and finished the last bouquet. Bundled it with the others she had left behind, and carefully carried them, how he had first seen her carry the proud golden thousand-petal crown Peonies. Like a parent might a child.

He calmly strode over to her, long legs closing the distance quick, bent down and craned up most of the bouquets she wrestled with. "I'm bigger," he said. His voice light, and easy. Halfway between tease and earnest fact. "Only stands to reason I hold more," she was left with a couple bouquets, and the proud black box with its fine silver ribbon, as well as the seal.

"Did you eat anything, by the way?" he asked, concern in his voice. "It's a long walk,"
 
Hanae looked up at Hiei, at first opening her mouth to object before closing it. He had a point. He was taller, and that meant he had longer legs and longer arms. Her dark eyes looked at his large hands, and strangely enough, she thought back to the way he had wrung out the rag over the pail before cleaning up the blood on her nose. Large hands that could be gentle, even if…

“I’ll eat tonight.” Hanae answered, making sure to hurry out of the gate of her home. “Don’t have time now. We need to get these flowers there before they wilt!” It had been a part of her master plan all along to skip eating, still very much excited for the fact that she had received such luck.

For every step that Hiei had to take, Hanae took two, but that was alright. She was the one setting the brisk pace, and her eagerness wasn’t about to wane anytime soon.

“Gold District is one of the prettier places,” Hanae said after a moment, when she was sure that speaking wasn’t going to cause her to pant. “Sort of like, well, it’s not that I don’t like the Blue or Red Districts, but Gold is just more elevated.” Alright, so maybe walking at this pace and talking was going to make her pant after all. “Whew. And we’re not even a quarter of the way there!” They weren’t even one-tenth of the way there, having only just started.

“You know, my hands get rather clammy when I’m excited,” she admitted, “you don’t think the sweat will soak into this box, do you?”
 
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