Another five minute fic
Oct. 30th, 2009 01:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ciirceeI just really can't write at all lately. ;__; I actually just wanted to let you all know that there is still time to write for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
shoneenclub's contest--several hours, as a matter of fact!
HALLOWSHONEEN
Now, for a fic I wrote in five minutes based on an old prompt from31_days.
Not Even Roses
Mimura has thousands of flowers at his disposal every single day. He's allowed to be picky about which ones he uses and he can discard them all if he needs. He can give them all to Yamada Tarou if that's what he wants to do.
But Tarou prefers to pick the wildflowers and weed-flowers that grow in the space between the buildings and the sidewalks. "Ah, pretty! Yellow flowers always look so happy, don't you think, Mimura-kun?"
The yellow flower in question is not one that Mimura knows the name of—that's how much of not a flower it really is. "Mm," he humors Tarou anyhow.
Tarou beams at him and Mimura suddenly has the urge to pick weeds with petals for him. "Pretty," Tarou says and Mimura blinks and sees Tarou touching the edge of white-and-purple flowers that have taken root under the shelter of a hedge. Mimura reaches out to pick them—to offer them to Tarou for his bouquet, to simply offer them to Tarou—but Tarou stops him. "No. Not these."
"Why?" he asks, honestly curious about what he's done wrong now. He and Tarou fit together surprisingly well but that doesn't mean that their lives mesh even the slightest bit. Mimura is used to it but he still sometimes wants to live flawlessly in Tarou's life. It's the one place where he dislikes feeling like an outsider. "Why not?" he asks again.
"They're violets," Tarou says and his hand drifts away from the petals. "My dad picks them for her. When he lived at home he used to make her bracelets and necklaces out of them. If I pick them, they'll make her cry and that's no good."
Mimura thinks of Tarou's mother and his father and his six little brothers and sisters. He thinks of his own grandfather and of the voices of flowers. "Okay." He picks the next dandelion that they see. The best and most honest thing that he can say about it is that it is yellow.
Tarou's mother positively sparkles when she sees the flowers. "How beautiful!"
"Mimura-kun helped!" Tarou sparkles back at her.
And somehow, with all the flowers in the world at his disposal, Mimura doesn't even wish they were roses.
shoneenclub's contest--several hours, as a matter of fact! Now, for a fic I wrote in five minutes based on an old prompt from
31_days. Not Even Roses
Mimura has thousands of flowers at his disposal every single day. He's allowed to be picky about which ones he uses and he can discard them all if he needs. He can give them all to Yamada Tarou if that's what he wants to do.
But Tarou prefers to pick the wildflowers and weed-flowers that grow in the space between the buildings and the sidewalks. "Ah, pretty! Yellow flowers always look so happy, don't you think, Mimura-kun?"
The yellow flower in question is not one that Mimura knows the name of—that's how much of not a flower it really is. "Mm," he humors Tarou anyhow.
Tarou beams at him and Mimura suddenly has the urge to pick weeds with petals for him. "Pretty," Tarou says and Mimura blinks and sees Tarou touching the edge of white-and-purple flowers that have taken root under the shelter of a hedge. Mimura reaches out to pick them—to offer them to Tarou for his bouquet, to simply offer them to Tarou—but Tarou stops him. "No. Not these."
"Why?" he asks, honestly curious about what he's done wrong now. He and Tarou fit together surprisingly well but that doesn't mean that their lives mesh even the slightest bit. Mimura is used to it but he still sometimes wants to live flawlessly in Tarou's life. It's the one place where he dislikes feeling like an outsider. "Why not?" he asks again.
"They're violets," Tarou says and his hand drifts away from the petals. "My dad picks them for her. When he lived at home he used to make her bracelets and necklaces out of them. If I pick them, they'll make her cry and that's no good."
Mimura thinks of Tarou's mother and his father and his six little brothers and sisters. He thinks of his own grandfather and of the voices of flowers. "Okay." He picks the next dandelion that they see. The best and most honest thing that he can say about it is that it is yellow.
Tarou's mother positively sparkles when she sees the flowers. "How beautiful!"
"Mimura-kun helped!" Tarou sparkles back at her.
And somehow, with all the flowers in the world at his disposal, Mimura doesn't even wish they were roses.