pocket full of posies and shit

ring around the rosie ft. a pocket full of posies

It took forever to get here, not in the literal sense, it took about thirty minutes of train travel and one bus; which isn't actually as long as Kiki thought it would be, and ten minutes longer than Jude expected on account of the delay and the fact they got lost at the second transfer. That's all in the past not, though, because they're here now, in front of a well worn sidewalk, in their well worn clothes, using smiles that were not worn enough.

Somehow, Jude had managed to graduate early, faking a highschool diploma and raging their way through college into a masters degree in botany and business—see, when Kiki had enrolled in a police academy, they said that when they were both done they'd open a flower shop or some shit and well, Jude kind of stuck to it.

They're both nineteen (legally twenty two) and fucking thriving. Or well. They're going to thrive. Jude knows they will. They have to. Kiki got a job running ropes during the day (which is probably just doing something illegal but Jude won't look a gift horse in the mouth) and Jude is an entrepreneur. Or a kind-of-businessthem. Whatever.

"Motherfucker," Jude grins at their spouse in front of the building. "we fucking did that."

"Guess we did. Good job, babe." Kiki says, fondly.

"Hey," Jude says, smile going soft. "couldn't have done it without you."

"I'm sure you could've," Kiki grins, "you're just amazing like that."

Jude tips down to kiss Kiki on the nose, a grin slashing their face open; the benefit of everything sits light on both their chests. "Taxes are going to be so much easier now that we're married."

Kiki gurgles up a laugh at that.

It's a good day.

—

The week before the shop opens is such a disaster that Jude nearly gives up entirely on the idea of running a business.

The first day of the shops' opening Jude is filled about yay high with nerves; they spill soil over the countertops and almost cut two of their fingers off within the same hour. It's a lovely, nervewracking, experience. Getting the shop was hell, a wonderful, awful hell.

And sure, scraping the blood off the walls was a pain in the ass, but the final result was wonderful, clean sheen of soft green and yellow walls. Jude lets out a breath of relief that is quickly stuffed by the bell ringing. They then stifle their relief and slap on a smile that's so fake they can taste the plastic in their mouth. Ah, customer service, the industry that destroys lives.. "Welcome to Pocket Full of Posies!"

"Yeah. Listen," says the person in front of them. They're blond and they've got red red red eyes that hurt to look at too long. Jude ignores the implications. "my lil sis birthday's tomorrow, n 'm gonna need some flowers. Whaddya got?"

Jude cleared their throat, a customer service smile painting their face over, "Practically everything. What's her favorite flower?"

"Fuck—I don't know." They rub their shoulders and clutch at their purse.

"Does she have a favorite color?"

They grumble something, it's hard to hear, so they repeat it. "Purple."

"I'll make a purple flower arrangement, what's your name?"

"Bakugou Mitsuki." Jude ignores the name for the sake of their sanity.

"Happy occasion?"

"Her anniversary." She's solemn, so it can't be. "Died three years ago."

(Well, there's something they didn't know. Oh sweet anime lore, what the fuck—)