buttercup | bnha x oc

one

When the long and tedious school day finally came to a close, there was a nice breeze outside. It wasn't too harsh or too soft, a perfect balance in the middle, and it felt pleasant when paired with the bright heat of the sun. The sky was a hue of cornflower blue that could be compared to the plants growing in the flower shop window, along with a sign that read 'now hiring' in bold letters.

A young girl skipped along; the tap of her sneakers against the sidewalk blended in with the whispers of the wind and the chattering voices of the passerby, discussing trivial things like the weather. Her yellow sneakers matched the color of the buttercups that grew persistently through the cracks in the concrete— her favorite color was yellow. How could it not be? It was just so bright, and it reminded her of the sun's warmth and honey's addictive sweetness. It reminded her of hazy summer days and bright smiles and beautiful flower petals and everything good; it made her smile so brightly she could forget everything wrong in the world.

Her honey brown eyes, dancing with mirth, inspected the flowers by her feet. She admired the buttercups, she really did, because they grew and they grew despite their environment. Among the dull concrete, they stood out; their hue was a splash of sun on a rainy day. Against everything, they remained, bringing a smile to her face without fail every day. She liked to think that she was like a buttercup, the brightness in others' worlds, the thing that made people smile until their cheeks hurt. Was that just wishful thinking? Possibly, yet she couldn't bring herself to be bothered by it on such a lovely afternoon. Her eyes snapped up from the sidewalk when she heard someone talking to her.

"Hello, miss, could I interest you in a free sample?" The voice belonged to a dark-haired boy who was carrying a plate of mochi ice cream; he seemed only a few years older than herself. Despite the polite phrasing and the smile on his face, she had a feeling he wasn't very excited to be advertising outside.

She grinned. "Of course!"

She plucked a random treat off the plate, not bothering to ask about the flavors, and was pleasantly surprised by the perfect texture and sweetness of the mango-flavored filling. She hummed with a bright resonance. The smile returned on her face after she finished chewing.

"That's really good! I might buy some..." she trailed off, biting her lip with a sudden hesitance. Was there enough money to spend on extra treats? It would be nice, but was it worth it? Wait... Of course it was worth it! Her mother loved mochi, and she had seemed stressed lately, so that was the exact thing she needed to cheer up. She nodded to herself, satisfied with this decision, and smiled yet again at the boy. "I will buy some," she said. She paused, then added, "By the way, I like your hair."

The boy blinked owlishly, raising a hand to touch his dark locks. He obviously wasn't used to receiving compliments, especially about his messy hair. She simply smiled at him and waved as she headed into the sweet shop.

She was immediately greeted by the soft chime of a bell and delectable smells that wafted sweetly and lazily in the air. She breathed in the scents, mouth watering as she made her way to the counter. Her eyes traced the various treats on display, yearning for each and every one. If she had more money, perhaps she could have every treat she wanted, but for now, all she had in mind was the smile that would grace her mother's features when she saw a bag of mango-flavored mochi ice cream resting on her bedside table. The thought made her smile. Maybe she looked weird when she smiled to herself, but she couldn't care less.

A teenage girl wearing a bright pink apron wandered over to the counter. She looked tired. "How may I help you?"

"I'd like to buy some mochi ice cream please! The mango flavor, I think, my mom likes fruity things." The girl in the pink apron asked more specifics, like the amount and how she'd like it packaged. She provided bright responses, complete with a smile, to each of her tired questions.

As the girl in the pink apron handed her the bag, she said, "Have a nice day." It was an automatic, monotone response, something she probably felt obligated to say.

"You too!" She smiled, hoping it would make the other girl smile too. She paused and pondered. The girl in the pink apron had purple eyes. "You seem thoughtful," she commented, "I can tell by your eyes! It's very nice."

The girl in the pink apron blinked once, twice, then she smiled. It was hesitant and it was beautiful.

"You have a pretty smile too," she added. Then she waved and she was gone, heading out the door, humming in sync with the bell that chimed upon her departure. She skipped along the sidewalk, a renewed brightness in her gait, and a bag of treats in her hands.