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Hidden within the hustle and bustle of Tokyo’s many districts, tucked away from the tourist areas like a local deity was Tachi In Shirasaya, The Scattering of Petals. It was a quaint florist shop, big enough to hold 10 people on a busy day, small enough that only one person needed to man the store on most days.
It was also Tamao Tomoe’s store. Many years ago, the shop itself was in disarray. It was too abandoned to be used outright, and it was too expensive to just remove altogether. Yet it was perfect for a person fresh out of highschool to start her own journey. She haggled the prices down for rent and made it all work all by herself. She even made her own apartment above the store too. Now she had a thriving flower business, bouquets both used for events and personal commissions. She was even well-liked in the local community, even getting the gossip first before anyone else her age did thanks to the old ladies buying her flowers first thing in morning.
It was thanks to these old ladies that Tamao heard that the “Yakuza” would be entering their little district.
“It’s terrible, Tamao-san,” Yoshiko-san sighed, one of the many ladies that knew Tamao’s mother as a kid. “To think the Yakuza would enter this town in this day and age.”
Tamao politely smiled, taking her time to count the change, allowing Yoshiko-san to ramble at her own pace. “I’m sure it’s not that bad, oba-san.”
“It’s worse, Tamao-san. I saw them earlier. Dyed pink hair, tattoos everywhere and such a young face,” she continued to anguish. “I wish ladies these days were more like you, Tamao-san. You’re so gentle and polite.”
Tamao placed the change in the little holder as she took a mental note of what granny said. A woman around her age with dyed hair and tattoos. Already, Tamao dismissed the flimsy “Yakuza” rumour in her head. Clearly it was just a foreigner who wandered to a deeper part of Japan than normal.
“I even heard that they’ll be moving right across from you.”
Now that took Tamao by surprise. Across to her was an empty store in the most expensive part of the street. The rent for that specific location was so draining that unless you made a profit instantly it would be hard to keep it open for more than 6 months. As a result, it’s been left abandoned which only made it depreciate further into ruin.
“Are you sure, Obaa-san?”
“Of course, Tamao-san.” The old lady started to turn now, new flowers in hand and quickly, Tamao moved to the door to open it for her. “How else would I meet this delinquent?”
She had a point, and it took everything for Tamao to stay where she was and not snoop and look for this mysterious “delinquent” when the grandma left her store. The person would stand out with the dyed hair and tattoos alone if she did look, but that meant she would be leaving her store unmanned. Minor gossip aside, the store and the flowers within it were more important.
Actually no, no it wasn’t.
The mystery of this new neighbour was too intriguing for Tamao to pass up. Besides, she reasoned to herself, it’s important to make a good impression despite appearances. The last thing Tamao wanted was some bad blood even if it lasted for a couple of months until the rent got too much and the new tenant had to leave again.
The plan was simple. Once Tamao knew that someone was inside the store, she would knock on the door with a welcoming bouquet and she would introduce herself. There would be at most a five minute conversation and then she would be back to her store with her curiosity sated.
Her moment came when she returned to her store after lunch, grabbing a free meal at her parent’s restaurant further up the street before heading back down to her part of the district. Right in front of “The Scattering Petals” was a newly decorated banner and the lights turned on.
“Ichigo-Ichie.” A motto used to treasure once in a lifetime experience. That was the name of this mysterious store and its mysterious owner. Tamao smiled at the lights inside and the shadow moving behind the closed blinds, music already spilled through the wooden doors in a muffled upbeat rhythm.
Already the idea of this neighbour being a delinquent was leaving Tamao’s mind as she tapped her knuckles against the door. There was a moment of pause as the music continued to play. Tamao’s brows furrowed as doubt trickled into her stomach and squeezed it tight in dread.
Was she being too forward? Did she catch them at the wrong time? Then the dread released itself with a subtle sigh at the sound of rattling keys before idol music poured out into the streets. In front of Tamao, opening the door wide with an apologetic grin was Tamao’s new neighbour across the street.
“Hiya, hope you didn’t wait for too long, I uh–misplaced my keys.”
The hair was lilac, not pink as the rumours suggested. It also held a ruffled look, the kind of messy texture that balanced the thin line of roguish and unkept. Her eyes were a golden hue, like the head of a marigold opposed to the bright petals of daffodils. She wore a shirt, wrinkled with a faded print and a set of denim paints scattered with paint.
Ah, she caught her in the middle of redecorating.
One thing that the grandma got right was the amount of tattoos she had. Flower tattoos decorated her left arm in an array of stems woven together, petals almost bending itself backwards to accommodate each other. Even if Tamao herself would never get tattoos, it would be dishonest to say she wasn’t fascinated by what was exposed.
Tamao gave a smile, “Oh no it’s fine, I live across the street and I saw the lights were open, are you the new owner of the store?”
The neighbour’s eyes perked up and the awkward smile melted away to something genuine. Even a little fang on the upper left side of her mouth peeked out from the smile. “Oh, are you the florist across the street?”
Tamao chuckled and glanced down to the vase in her hands. “Did the flowers give it away?”
“Kinda,” the neighbour laughed back. She leant back and scratched the back of her neck and there, Tamao noticed something she didn’t see last time. Not only did she have a flower patterned tattoo sleeve but she had a pair of raven wings cupping the skin of her neck. “Most people notice the raven wings but your eyes went straight to the arm sleeve.”
Tamao’s cheeks burned with embarrassment and if she lifted up the vase a bit higher so that the flowers hid her face she wouldn’t deny it. It didn’t help that the neighbour was giggling, clearly amused by her reaction. It was made worse with the fact that her laugh was cuter than Tamao expected.
“I’m so so sorry for staring.”
“Don’t be,” Her neighbour said as she took the vase and lowered it enough for their eyes to meet. The smile this time, past the petals and flower stems held a bashful hue of pink on either side of her cheeks. “If anything I’m flattered you went to the flowers first. I did them myself, you know.” She then stepped back, her hands moving as she twisted her left arm to show the back of her arms. “Well except the ones that curl around the back. I’m good but not that good.”
“You’re a tattoo artist?”
“Ichie Otonashi,” Her neighbour, Ichie, declared as she reached her hand out, Tamao to shake. “Hence the name, Ichigo-Ichie.”
“Oh, I uh–” Tamao shrugged with a helpless smile, still holding the vase with both hands. “I don’t have any hands to shake but I’m Tamao, Tomoe. I own the flower shop across the streets.”
Ichie’s widened before she reached forward, finally freeing Tamao of her gift. “Ah, let me take that from you.” With ease Ichie moved the vase heavy enough to be held with two hands to a comfortable spot just above her hip where she quickly manoeuvred it to be carried by one hand.
“There,” she said with a breathless smile, hand outstretched once more. “Now you’re free of a hand to shake.”
“It appears I do,” Tamao laughed, a mix of amusement and awe. She glanced back at the vase and the tattooed arm carrying it before looking back up at Ichie’s face. The last thing she wanted was her to stare at the now more noticeable muscles hidden under the ink. She held Ichie’s hand and shook it, muscle memory dictating it to move like a business transaction instead of a friendly form.
“It's nice to meet you, Otonashi san,” Tamao said, pulling her hand away before she got lost in how soft Ichie’s hands were.
“The pleasure is all mine, Tomoe san.” Ichie nodded behind her, “Do you want a drink or something?”
Tamao waved her free hands, as the idol music continued to play behind them. “That’s sweet but you’re probably busy setting up the store and redecorating.”
Ichie paused at the observation before shrugging, the smile still kind as before. “Maybe,” she acknowledged with a small shrug, before her eyes locked into Tamao’s. “But there’s always later on the day to that. You’re here now and that’s more important.”
Something in Tamao’s stomach twisted, falling over itself to accommodate the pleasant sensation of a low dip that Tamao forgot she could feel. This time there was no flower vase to hide her flustered expression. “Oh…”
“Of course if you’re busy that’s fine, but feel free to come back when your shift is over.”
“I should probably go, I’m a one-woman store.”
“Oh just like me!” Ichie grinned with an excited nod. “In that case, I won’t keep you away for too long–oh and thank you for the flowers,” she added as an afterthought. She nodded her head in a small gesture of thanks, still holding the vase with one hand. “It’s a beautiful arrangement.”
“Thank you.” There was a pause, then Tamao opened her mouth for an opportunity. Maybe it was from the pit of her stomach awakening something she thought she buried in highschool, maybe it was the excitement of meeting someone new. Maybe it was because there was something in Ichie’s eyes that made Tamao want to bet on something old and buried.
“Though I think your flower sleeve is a much better arrangement. It’s beautiful.” It was a miracle that Tamao managed to say that without getting more flustered. Ichie looked at her, wide-eyed with a light pink dusting her cheeks. Then she recovered herself with an easy smile, charming enough that it made Tamao smile wider too.
“Then you should definitely come back when your shift is over. I can show you more flower tattoos I’ve done. I’ll probably have my best portfolio pieces on the wall too.”
Tamao smiled, already turning around to make her way across the street. “I’ll see you then, Otonashi-san.”