"Welcome!" A young woman, about 18 or 19 years old, greeted me with a cheerful attitude as I entered the store. Everything was nicely decorated. There were both naturally planted flowers, decorative flowers, and display flowers.
There was no one at the counter; the girl who greeted me—probably the person in charge of the place—was serving an elderly woman.
"Don't worry, girl. I'm sure with these flowers she'll recover soon."
"Yes. He'll be very happy that you brought them to him, too."
"I know he'll be happy just by going to see him. He often compared me to a flower. I hope he doesn't confuse which one is which."
The old woman and the girl had a brief exchange, apparently interrupted by my entrance, which closed their conversation.
Both the girl and the old woman said goodbye, as if they had known each other for a long time.
"…"
As soon as I entered, and before they had finished speaking, I positioned myself behind one of the shelves. More than shelves, they were large wooden planks on which hung baskets, each with a specific flower planted in a small patch of soil inside the basket.
He was acting like he was looking closely at the flowers, but he was only doing so to avoid embarrassment. The flowers were organized by color, then alphabetically. Shades of purple and blue were what were on the side I was standing on.
"Do you want me to help you with something?" the girl asked, in a friendly manner, appearing beside me without me noticing.
I was excited for a moment, I hesitated for another, and then I spoke, putting a hand to the back of my neck.
"Ah, n-no, I was just looking."
"I understand. If you want me to help you with anything, you can ask."
…He's too kind. His smile radiated more colors than a rainbow; I was getting sick. Even though I was getting sick, I still had to ask him one thing.
"This is something I would like to ask you…"
"Mhm?"
She turned around after hearing me. There was no time at all between the moment I stopped talking and her response…
"… Um… What's the cheapest bouquet you have?"
I have 20,000 yen on me, so it should be enough to buy a handful of simple bouquets, I hope.
" It depends a lot on the flower, but the cheapest one would be 5 flowers, for about 3,000 yen. What do you want the bouquet for?"
The girl began to speak more calmly and casually, but returned to a formal posture after answering and asking.
"…It's for a deceased person." I tried to answer quickly, not wanting to put any emphasis on the reason I was there.
"…I understand. Funeral bouquets are usually smaller and cheaper, between 1,000 and 3,000 yen."
I don't know much about flowers or offerings. When it comes to those kinds of customs, I seem like a foreigner. I didn't even know there were bouquets specifically made as offerings.
For her part, the girl's tone became more modest and calm, maintaining her composure. Even so, she continued to radiate an aura of exaggerated warmth and kindness.
"Do you have any flowers in mind, or would you like me to recommend one?"
"…I would appreciate it if you could recommend flowers based on their color."
On my way to the florist, I mused over the type of flowers each bouquet should contain, or rather, their color. Let it be clear that I'm not so ignorant as to ask for red or orange flowers.
" What colors do you want?"
"Preferably, four bouquets, with light blue flowers, white flowers, yellow flowers, and purple flowers."
" Each bouquet of a different kind, yes?"
"Y-yes…"
The girl said she would prepare them right away, and to wait for them.
I have no idea what each type of flower represents, but I know that softer, or less conspicuous, shades are often used for the deceased. I only know this because there were always flowers of those colors in the vases next to my grandmother's grave, except for the light blue.
I don't have a personal reason for choosing those colors except for blue, and that's just because I like blue. Yes, I have very noble reasons.
After a couple of minutes, exactly a couple, the girl entered through a door at the back of the shop. It was probably where she kept the flowers she wanted to sell.
With her she brought all the bouquets of flowers, each flower only the color I asked for.
"That would be 8,100 yen. Do you want me to put a bag on it? That would be 50 yen more."
"Yes please…"
I took two of the four 5,000-yen bills they gave me and paid with them. Before the girl took the money, she put all the bouquets—all five—in the bag.
"…Five?"
I looked at the girl in surprise as she stuffed the five bouquets into the bag. Could she have gotten confused?
"Th-this…"
Although I wanted to tell her she was wrong, I couldn't because I was embarrassed. I only managed to say one word, and I said it so quietly that she didn't even hear it. What if she snapped at me if I complained? I'm sure she'd be upset if I said something like that to her.
The young woman, as if she could read my mood, spoke to me in a soft and understanding tone, while she counted and handed me the change.
"The bouquet I gave you is of white anthuriums. They represent the peace one finds within oneself, and the acceptance of oneself, of everything one has done and experienced."
A gift, or in this case, an offering from a stranger. He was obligated to accept it; he could never refuse it, and it would be a shame if he could.
"…Thank you." I took the change, then the purse, trying not to look at her face. I wasn't nervous, nor was I thinking about any of those things; I just couldn't look at that face full of kindness and caring. Definitely a great contender for Haruka.
Having collected the money and the flowers, I left the establishment, the girl waving goodbye to me as she left. When she saw that I was already outside, and that no one else was entering, her expression relaxed. More than relaxed, she looked conflicted.
"…I don't even know who that girl was, and I don't know if that boy was someone in her family… There are so many people here, it would be impossible..."
…And yet, I gave him the bouquet… , the girl thought. After that, she straightened her back and pressed both hands to her cheeks.
"Don't be silly. You should treat people like that even if you don't know anything. If not—"
The small bell on the door rang, ushering in a new customer. The girl composed herself, a radiant smile on her face.
"Welcome!"