Flowers

"How much do the Jasmine and pink carnations cost?" Hiroshi Bissette, pointing at the white sweet-scented jasmine flower and then pointing at the alluring pink blooming carnation flower, asks for the price.

"One jasmine costs 0.25 yuan, but five jasmines cost 1.25 yuan. And for the pink carnation flower, one pink carnation costs 1 yuan, but five pink carnations cost 4 yuan," the florist comes walking towards Hiroshi.

"I would like five each of jasmine and pink carnation flower," reaching into his silky black trouser to take out his phone to scan the QR code for payment.

The florist, picking out five jasmines and pink carnations, begins wrapping up by placing opaque white cellophane paper. Then, the opaque black cellophane paper over the white paper finishes with a long lustrous white ribbon. The florist takes the flower bouquet and the QR code, and she heads towards Hiroshi. After scanning the QR code and paying, Hiroshi departs from the florist shop and goes to the bus stop. When the bus arrives, Hiroshi goes onto the bus and sits on the empty seat. Hiroshi, looking at the bouquet, thinks, "I hope he likes it," and smiles.

Seeing the smile of Hiroshi, a group of ninth-grader girls begins to chatter about how Hiroshi has a sweet smile.

Girl number 1: "Oh my god, my heart skips a beat looking at the adolescent sitting beside the guy. He has a sweet smile."

Girl number 2: "Yea, I agree. I think he already has a girlfriend. I bet he is going to give it to her. Look at the flower bouquet."

Girl number 3: "Yea. Come to think of it, his face kinda looks feminine, but he looks hot in those round glasses."

Girl number 4: "He looks feminine but not too feminine, and he is attractive. Somehow, I think he is a nerd."

Hiroshi, who is oblivious of the gossip from the group of ninth-grader girls, prepares to get off the second bus stop. Walking to another block, Hiroshi sees a quiet yet elegant mortuary and goes into the cemetery. He passes the systematized gravestones until he sees a headstone he dreads to see… it's Kenzo's. Hiroshi, stopping in front of Kenzo's tombstone, smiles and looks tenderly at the picture of an adolescent boy who is smiling happily into the camera. Hiroshi puts the flower near Kenzo's portrait that he had bought from the florist.

"Hello, Kenzo. How have you been? Do you like flowers? I bought it especially for you. It's your favorite pink carnation flower. I also added my favorite jasmine flower. It's a mixture of our favorite type of flower," Hiroshi, squatting down next to Kenzo's tomb, smiles. Hiroshi's eyes begin to produce an enormous size of teardrops, which grievously glide down his smooth milky white skin.

"You know, Kenzo. It's been six months already. I still miss you, Kenzo. I miss you so much that I kept looking at our photos every time and every day. Your last words to me were to move on. But how can I? How can I move on when I love you so much? You are so cruel to me by telling me to move on," Hiroshi, finally breaking down, bawls his eyes out like a kid losing its mother in a crowd.

"What should I do? I still love you as I loved you in those past six months. Do you remember the day you asked for my favorite type of flower?" Hiroshi, covered in tears, smiles slightly at the thought of his nostalgic memories.

-The day when Kenzo asked Hiroshi's favorite type of flower-

When Hiroshi is playing games at Kenzo's house, Kenzo walks towards Hiroshi and sits beside him.

"Hiroshi, what is your favorite flower?" Kenzo, curious about the answer, glances at Hiroshi.

"Humm, I would say Jasmine flower, but why do you ask Kenzo?"

"Ohh, it's nothing. I am just curious. Why jasmine flowers, though?"

"I love jasmine flower because it has a sweet and refreshing scent, and it also represents modesty, love, and sensuality," Hiroshi's lips turn into a crescent full of sincerity and love while explaining to Kenzo about his favorite flower.

Kenzo, falling for Hiroshi's smile, slowly leans in closer towards Hiroshi's face as he looks at Hiroshi's attractive soft ruby lips. Kenzo then looks into Hiroshi's stunning brunette eyes as he slowly moves gently towards Hiroshi's ruby lips. Placing his lips on Hiroshi's lips, Kenzo, closing his eyes, benevolently yet intensely kisses Hiroshi's lips. Hiroshi, who is savoring the kisses from Kenzo, returns the kisses passionately. Finally gasping for air, they, blushing brighter than a tomato, both finally part away from each other and playfully smiles at each other.

Slowly laying his head on Hiroshi's shoulder, Kenzo, who has an enormous joyful smile, states, "I love you so much, Hiroshi. What should I do? I am becoming clingy, aren't I?" Kenzo pouted.

"Yep. You are totally becoming clingy, but I don't mind. I love you as much as you love me. Well, I think I love you more." Hiroshi sticks out his tongue in a humorous manner.

"By the way, Kenzo, what is your favorite type of flower?"

"Pink carnation."

"Why?"

"Because it represents "I will never forget you." Some people might take the meaning of pink carnation as motherly love. But not for me."

"Ohh, I see."

"I will only give the pink carnation flower bouquet to you, no one else. You are that much important to me," Kenzo, smiling tenderly at Hiroshi, expresses.

-Back to present-

"I couldn't understand the meaning when you say the pink carnation flower represents 'I will never forget you.' And you also said you would only give me the pink carnation bouquet. Now, I am giving you the pink carnation flower. I hope you are happy." Hiroshi, closing his eyes, looks up at the sky and sighs.

"Kenzo, I tried to move on. I went on lots of blind dates after you passed away. But none of them work out. Also, the school has already started. I am already in grade eleven. I still wish you were here with me, attending school together just like we used to. I have got no friends and no one to open up to about how I struggle to live another day. Anyway, I have to go now. I love you like always. See you later," standing up, Hiroshi walks away from Kenzo's gravestone, exits the cemetery, and heads towards a twelve-story apartment.

Hiroshi, climbing up the stairs onto the rooftop, steps on the edge of the building, and murmurs, "Kenzo, my love, I am coming to you. I can't live without you. Please, forgive me."

"Oh my Kenzo, look at your lover. Somehow it is disappointing," a man, unwrapping a sharp fragrance of black coffee sweet, silently whispers to himself.