Chapter Text
The group reunited for lunch, heading back to the city where multiple streets offered an array of restaurants, cafés and food stalls. Byakuya’s eyes scanned the colourful signs either side of him, stacked on top of one another as if clamouring for his attention. They ended up opting for a stall that sold skewers, sitting down to eat at two tables nearby.
“This is delicious,” mumbled Yasuhiro, his mouth full of marinated beef.
“You got that right,” said Komaru, brandishing a yakitori. “I’ve had these before, but these must have some special ingredients in them because they taste better than the ones back home!”
She shoved the end of her skewer into her mouth. When she pulled it out, there was one less chunk of chicken on it.
“That won’t be the reason,” said Byakuya, pulling a face as she chewed with her mouth open. “Usually, on holidays, people are more relaxed, so the food will just seem to taste better due to you being in a good mood.”
Komaru shook her head. “Nope! It’s definitely not because of that. Here, try mine!”
Byakuya jerked his head back as she almost thrust her yakitori into his face.
“No, thank you,” he said, swatting her hand away. With a pout, Komaru sat back in her chair.
He had his own skewer to enjoy, anyway. Of the options available, he had chosen the most expensive. Wagyu beef with shishito peppers. The tender meat oozed flavour, rich and buttery, while the pepper gave it a citrus edge. As he ate, his eyes drifted around the table, stopping on Touko. She had been talked into choosing the same skewer as Komaru, consisting of chicken thigh and leek pieces.
“Of all the skewers available, rather than try something different, you chose the most popular one that you could easily obtain back home,” Byakuya scolded them lightly.
Komaru shrugged.
“I a-admit that I’ve eaten something similar before,” mumbled Touko, cringing. “And I’m fully aware that something being popular doesn’t always mean it’s the best. When it comes to literature, the mainstream or whatever is the current trendy thing isn’t necessarily the most well-written. These days, rather than quality, books are marketed on tropes and blurbs from already famous authors to entice buyers.”
No one interrupted, listening quietly. Touko fidgeted with her yakitori and carried on speaking.
“However, this strategy can only last so long... an author who does this will become faceless, and their novels will be quickly forgotten. Those who wish to create works that are remembered, that are held in high regard, need to deliver something unique or of exceptional quality. Therefore... if these regular skewers are so popular... then they must be delicious.”
She paused.
“A-Also... sometimes... people find comfort in the familiar... like a childhood blanket that’s fraying at the edges and has holes.”
“Exactly!” Komaru said, beaming as she hugged Touko into her side with one arm. With her other hand, she twirled her unfinished skewer between her fingers before bringing it to her mouth to chomp on again.
Byakuya stared at Touko. She wasn’t an idiot - even when he used to consider her ramblings about true love foolish and inane, he still acknowledged that she was intelligent otherwise. A great writer. A rare individual like himself, able to see the world for what it truly was. And as he got to know her better, and they had conversations about other subjects like books and movies and life, he learned her knowledge extended far beyond literature.
Touko was smart. Very smart. Very quick to correct others. But not him. Never him.
“Fukawa-san makes some good points, but I am wondering...” Kyouko’s lips sharpened into a smirk. “Togami-kun, have you ever eaten a regular yakitori before?”
His shoulders tensed. Everyone in the group looked at him, waiting for an answer. He clenched his jaw and adjusted his glasses.
“Not a regular one, no,” he admitted.
“Y-You can try mine,” offered Touko, proffering her skewer.
It was nearly identical to Komaru’s, the difference being that Touko hadn’t eaten as much of hers yet. He stiffened and studied it for a few more seconds before glancing at her face. She regarded him with an intense expression, her brow furrowed and lips slightly pouting. His eyes flickered, from her eyes to the skewer then back to her purple-grey eyes again. The aroma of grilled meat swam up his nose with how close it was to him.
Realising she didn’t seem like she was going to budge, he sighed, leaned in, bit off the end pieces, then sat back in his chair and chewed. Touko stared at him, her mouth hanging open, while the others looked at each other.
“Did that just happen?” asked Yasuhiro.
Byakuya glowered. “What are you on about now?”
“You just ate some of Fukawa-san’s yakitori,” said Makoto.
“So?”
Makoto opened his mouth only to close it moments later and shake his head.
“Nothing, Togami-kun,” said Makoto. “It’s nothing.”
It really was nothing. Touko had been insistent that he try some, and rather than waste time convincing her to stop dangling it in his face, he decided to taste her yakitori. He had also been curious if it was as delicious as she claimed. His verdict was that it had tasted okay. If she had offered to feed him some more, he would have accepted, but she seemed to have forgotten how to move. She only stirred when Komaru started pulling off bits of Touko’s yakitori for herself to eat.
“Have you no shame, Pigmaru?” Touko grumbled, resuming her lunch. Komaru pretended to sulk.
After they finished lunch, they went to the city’s botanical gardens. Gravel paths cut through spectrums of green, with information signs sprinkled throughout informing the visitors what each plant was. The group stayed together, walking at a leisurely pace as they drank in their surroundings. Well, except Yasuhiro, who shuffled along with an uneasy expression.
“Don’t lower your guards, guys,” said Yasuhiro in a hushed tone. His eyes darted about. “They can hear everything you’re saying. And they will use their newfound intel against you.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Kyouko.
Makoto winced. “Hagakure-kun thinks that the plants are sentient and plotting world domination.”
Yasuhiro clapped a hand over Makoto’s mouth.
“Don’t let them know we’re onto them!” Yasuhiro hissed.
“Is that true?” asked Komaru, closing a hand over her mouth.
“Yes,” said Yasuhiro. “They’re alive, Komaru-chi. All of them. There are plants that release chemicals into the air to warn their comrades of danger, and there are touch-sensitive ones that learn not to fold in on itself like a Pokémon using defence curl just ‘cause someone brushed past. Sunflowers even know to face the Sun!”
Komaru squeaked and shrunk away from a nearby shrub studded with pastel hydrangeas.
“That isn’t evidence of them having a consciousness. It’s just them reacting to stimuli,” said Kyouko as she placed a hand onto Komaru’s shoulder.
“T-That’s right,” said Aoi, who could have sounded more convinced. “Hagakure’s just being weird again. There’s no need to - ”
She turned her head and shrieked, jolting back. The others twitched at her volume.
“Asahina-san?” asked Makoto, wide-eyed.
Aoi didn’t answer, clutching her chest. Byakuya’s eyes locked onto some movement near her: a butterfly, with black and white wings marked with a red speck. It fluttered upward, soon swallowed into the bright blue expanse overhead.
“Sorry,” said Aoi. “I... I thought I saw...”
There was no need for her to elaborate. With that particular colour scheme on the butterfly’s wings, they all knew the association that had sprung into her mind. They continued exploring the gardens, with its winding streams, fountains and topiary animals, but it wasn't just heat that made the air feel heavy. Some of them acted like they expected Monobear to jump out from a bush and start laughing maniacally before revealing they were still locked up in the school. That all this time, they had been trapped in a virtual world.
“You don't think there are any Mono flowers here, do you?” asked Aoi when they arrived at the tropical greenhouse, her eyes searching the colourful orchids on the canopy and the ferns below.
“Don't be ridiculous,” Byakuya scoffed.
But despite his reassured response, the others appeared to hurry through the rest of the greenhouse. They didn't stop to read the information boards, or give more than a glance at most of the plants. They seemed to look around just long enough to see if a large flower was looming nearby. Upon exiting the greenhouse, the weight pressing down on them lightened, but only slightly.
Makoto piped up, “So when do you guys want to check out the amusement park?”
A smile broke out across Yasuhiro’s face. “Hell yeah! Let's go now.”
“Fine, but we're going to the zoo tomorrow,” said Aoi.
“Hang on a moment. We haven't finished here yet,” said Byakuya. “There are half a dozen greenhouses left to visit.”
“I think we've got the gist of them by now,” said Yasuhiro, shrugging.
“You would say that, you paranoid buffoon.” Byakuya turned to the others. “You can't all be too scared to continue.”
There was an uncomfortable pause.
“It's not that,” said Komaru, not entirely convincingly. She rubbed the back of her neck. “It's just... um, holidays are meant to be fun.”
Komaru really was her brother’s sister. They could gain new knowledge about plant life here and observe unfamiliar flora, yet she would rather have some cheap thrills at a generic amusement park. He could feel his grimace sinking deeper into his features.
“We all have our own preferences for how we like to spend our time on holiday, Togami-kun,” said Kyouko. “Some might like to learn something new or conquer their fears, but others may want to just scream themselves hoarse on a rollercoaster. If some of us are uncomfortable here, we’re entitled to go somewhere less stressful.”
She spoke as if Byakuya didn't already know this, when he was perfectly aware. His issue was their reason for wanting to leave the gardens was ridiculous. They had endured countless horrors over the past several years, yet they had been freaked out by a butterfly that would be dead in a few months.
“I'll accompany you through the rest of the gardens,” offered Touko. He glanced at her.
At least one of them wasn't being an idiot.
“Yes. Fine. That's good,” said Byakuya. As the group split ways, he glimpsed Komaru giving two thumbs up at his and Touko’s backs. Byakuya didn’t know what she meant by that, but he pushed it to the back of his mind.
In the one hour spent in the gardens so far, they had barely scratched the surface of what was on offer. As well as the tropical greenhouse, there was a water garden with rooms holding plants from across the world. Lythrum salicaria clumped by some pools, standing tall, while African water ferns sat in others, koi fish swimming amongst their dark green leaves.
“This place would have been even more colourful in the spring,” remarked Touko, peering down at a pale pink lotus in the water.
“Well, it’s summer, so we have to make do with what there is,” said Byakuya. Touko looked away.
“I know...”
They continued their slow progression through the room. Both of them stopped to read a sign about the koi fish, but then Touko moved away without him, ambling over to another section of the greenhouse. He frowned after her. Normally, she was the one following Byakuya, but this time he trailed behind her.
As he stepped into the next room, he felt the temperature dip a bit. Up ahead, Touko had stopped on a small arch bridge that crossed over flowing water.
“They have baikamo!” she exclaimed, bouncing her heels against the wood.
Byakuya came over to investigate, positioning himself beside her. What resembled a field of white buttercups covered the surface of the water below.
“They’re endangered, requiring clear water at a suitably low temperature,” Touko told him. “I haven’t seen them since I was very young.”
The excitement in Touko’s voice prompted him to turn his head toward her. Light danced in her eyes, shone from her smile. Radiated from her being. For such a gloomy person, there were times when she could be so bright. Usually around him, or Komaru. Most people, when confronted by such intensity, would squint their eyes and avert their gaze, but he couldn’t help but stare at her.
It took him a few seconds to catch himself. He blinked, looked back at the water. His heart fluttered like the butterfly from earlier.
“How much do you know about botany?” he asked lightly.
“Not as much as you, but I often include flowers in my novels for symbolism reasons. To do that, I need to research where they grow, when they bloom... i-it would kill me to mention a plant that wasn’t even flowering at the time of year the novel takes place!”
“I see,” he said. The water in the pond flowed gently, so clear that where there wasn’t any baikamo, he could see his quivering reflection. And hers. “You know most people wouldn’t realise that sort of inconsistency, don’t you? It’s a small detail that would pass over many readers’ heads.”
“But I would know,” replied Touko. Byakuya emitted a single hum.
Growing up, he had done his own fair amount of research into plant life. Not for the same reasons as her, though. For him, it was part curiosity, a desire to know what was growing in his mansion’s garden, and part survival. He had needed to know what plants could make what poisons.
Up until now, they hadn’t spoken much during their trek, but now Touko spoke almost nonstop about the various plants they came across as they continued through the greenhouse. She kept this up through the next few exhibitions, then in the rock garden with its six sections: one for each mountainous region of the world.
“Eighty percent of all freshwater originates from mountains,” she said. “That’s because there are more mountains in the ocean than on land...”
Byakuya raised his eyebrows. “Which book was that research for?”
“None.” She poked her index fingers together. “I excelled at most subjects in school. Everything except art and physical education...”
“I bet,” he said, smiling slightly.
By the time they arrived at the rose garden, her voice had started to go hoarse, so he held out his bottle of water for her to drink from.
“Huh?” went Touko, staring at it as if it had spoken to her.
“You’re losing your voice,” he said. “Drink.”
The corners of Touko’s lips curled upward. “D-Does this mean Byakuya-sama wants to continue hearing my voice? Or is this your way of giving me an indirect kiss...”
“Don’t read into it,” said Byakuya, pushing up his glasses with his free hand.
Touko chugged down some water while Byakuya looked around. The rose garden was a maze of hedges and archways. He approached one of the arches and brushed his fingers across a pink rosehead.
“I’ll indulge you. What do the different colours symbolise?” he asked.
“When it comes to roses, the symbolism of their colours is universal,” said Touko, sidling up to him. “Red is passionate love, pink is cute, young love or happiness, yellow is familial love. White is devotion or religious love...”
Byakuya gave the rose an idle flick. “What colour would you give me?”
He could see her choosing most of the colours she listed, so he was curious which one she would deem most appropriate.
“... Blue,” she said.
“Blue?” Byakuya frowned. “What does that symbolise?”
“Blue - ”
Thunder cracked, making Touko jump. A few droplets splattered against them, then a downpour slammed down, cold as ice. Touko screamed and buried her head under her arms, while Byakuya gritted his teeth and shielded his forehead with one hand. The weather forecast had made no mention of rain, and he hadn’t noticed it becoming cloudy either, but then again he had been too preoccupied with listening to Touko talk about the plant life.
“There’s a teahouse there!” Byakuya shouted, pointing at a small structure nearby. “Let’s go!”
Byakuya grabbed Touko’s hand and ran them over to it, each hurried footstep spraying up water. The building was the size of a shed, and empty. Presumably it wasn’t in use anymore. It was also locked, but Byakuya managed to force it open with his shoulder. They closed the door behind themselves and sat down next to each other by the entrance. Despite not being in use, the teahouse fortunately seemed to be in good shape, not letting any rain through.
“Argh! Just my luck!” Touko fussed, holding her head in her hands. “I didn’t bring an umbrella.”
“Neither did I,” admitted Byakuya. “No matter. To pass the time, you can tell me what blue roses symbolise.”
Touko breathed in, then out, calming herself slightly, and turned her head toward him. “Despite what certain simulation video games may lead you to believe, blue roses don’t occur in nature. Usually they’re white roses dyed or painted blue, though scientists have been able to create a rose with blue pigment. Visually, it’s more violet than blue-blue, but...”
“We can discuss the scientific side of it shortly,” Byakuya interrupted, waving a hand. “I asked what it symbolised, remember?”
“S-Sorry! I was just getting to that. Some say that blue roses symbolise the impossible, such as doomed love...”
Byakuya’s eyebrows rose. Touko carried on.
“But I disagree with that interpretation. Or, rather, it isn’t one that applies to me. As the blue rose now exists, I tend to think it means ‘a dream come true’ or miraculous love. Because despite the odds, despite what the world has thrown at us, we have survived, and are in love...”
“Oi, careful about that last thing you said,” he replied.
Rather than apologise, Touko asked, “W-What colour roses would you give me?”
He pursed his lips and dragged his finger against the floorboard. Dusty. Without looking at her, he knew she was waiting for his answer, staring at him. Almost as if he could sense her gaze.
“If I had to give you one,” he said slowly, “I suppose I would give you a blue rose too.”
Touko really was a unique woman.
“A-Ah?” she went.
Byakuya’s face burned. He still didn’t look at her. That would probably make his face redder. Maybe even as red as hers must have been.
“Let’s just sit quietly for a bit,” he said.
She swallowed, breathing noisily. The rain pounding on the roof buried the sound mostly, but he also had become used to it. For a while, she did as he requested, but then she stirred.
“Byakuya-sama?”
“That’s not quiet.”
“I-It’s just one thing, I promise.”
“What is it?”
“Can... we continue to hold hands?”
Byakuya tensed and looked down. He hadn’t realised he hadn’t let go of her hand since he grabbed it to guide her to the tea house. Several seconds passed. It was his turn to swallow now.
“Sure,” he said, and later, when Touko leaned her head against his shoulder, he didn’t say anything at all as they waited for the rain to stop.
Though, when it did, when the sky cleared and was bright blue, they didn’t leave right away, content to stay as they were. Two blue roses, thorns and all, entwined.