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suolovesong · 23 days ago

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This Side of Paradise 1: Spring

Aged up! Suo Hayato x Gardner! OC

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Warnings: Angst, Minor character death mentioned, my portrayal of Suo’s eventual emotional growth, o/c is taller, SLOW slow burn, EVERYONE is awkward in this 😂

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Nature always followed her, but so did the recent deafening solitude at Kanra House. Low drooping eyes, mainly from the late Spring’s sun that smiled over her like a warm blanket, observed a white butterfly fluttering above the lush, green gardens of gladiola, oleander, and boxwood, seasonal daffodils in the April shower the evening before. The clouds that had covered the night sky could no longer sustain the rays as dawn arose, although the moisture still clung to the air in tendrils of thin fog and soaked the vast meadow in fresh dew. A field mouse sipped from the fresh bubbles of water before scurrying off, evading the eye of a falcon lingering in the branches of one of many fibrous cypresses that encircled the property.

Her head snapped up from the tranquility as the sounds of tires approached the front of the house from the grey gravel road that crunched under the rubber interrupted her solace, confusion etching onto her features as she turned from her spot in the field to peer around the house. Her eyes drag over the spinning rim of a black Mercedes, its shadow casting over the reeds and nandina, the contrasting shine harshly reflecting on the flora and fauna nearby.

The driver eased to a stop. The silhouette of a young man became faintly visible to her behind the dark tinting on the glass of the rear window. Beyond it, red beads trailing gold tassels hung from pale ears. Short chestnut hair shaded a burgundy eye, its twin obscured by a black leather eyepatch. His chin raised slightly, his bored expression thwarted by the vehicle’s stop. The car door opened to a familiar sight, one the man had seen many times, although it felt like yesterday and yet an eternity ago: an ornamental garden teeming with florals and perennials, the traditional house built with light wood. A path stretched over a stream that meandered across, Japanese pines loosely concealing the meadow of lush grass, a dojo nestled before the grass became forest. It was there, sat among the young eucharis bulbs and lemon geraniums lining the house, he saw a young woman peering from the shade of her sunhat.

Her crystal-like eyes had a sense of curiosity to them as they met his form, his own gaze captured momentarily by the snow-colored braid that draped smoothly off of her shoulder. His eye drew a vertical line once, twice, before the driver cleared his throat, an embarrassed expression flashing ever-so-briefly over both of their faces, the source of the awkwardness raising an eyebrow. She wasn’t sure whether to be concerned, attentive, or offended, as his stare didn’t meet her eyes. The silent interaction was-for the young man- thankfully drawn to an abrupt end by the presence of the Realtor’s descent from the porch steps. The older gentleman approached him with a welcoming smile and a greeting,

“Ah! Mr. Suo…”

The middle aged man bowed, his hand motioning towards the property with great enthusiasm.

“Welcome back to the Kanra House!”

Suo looked up with a sudden air of authority, as if remembering his own responsibilities. A polite smile graced his features as his posture straightened, hands loosely clasped behind his back as he joined the realtor. They strolled the path, the realtor discussing improvements and positive attributes,but his left eye lingered for a moment on the pink geraniums that peeked around the corner.

Ask me why my heart’s inside my throat

She watched them enter the house through occasional glances under the guise of weeding,the sound of the sliding doors opening and closing falling softly on her ears as she noted the presence of his-Mr. Suo’s-companion remained by the car. She rose from her spot with a slight stretch of her limbs, taking a last short glance at the car and its sentinel before she turned toward the back of the house, her short break abruptly and awkwardly over.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

Suo quickly settled in after that spring day, as if a magnetic pull had him signing the deed to his late martial arts master’s home in the montane town far from the urban jungle he’d spent much of his boyhood and young adult life in. He’d assumed that he would spend the rest of his twenties as he had up to this point–protecting others, fighting over turf, everything he’d always valued and cherished. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d return to the tranquility of his Master’s sanctuary.

His naturally coiffed hair swept in the warm breeze from the open back door, his musings of the past accompanied by a steaming porcelain cup of tea. Its matching teapot perched elegantly beside it on the short table adjacent to which he sat, the sound of shears snipping a red maple tree a welcome distraction from the heavy feeling in his chest. The shadow of his grief disappeared for just a moment. The sheers snipped at branches flush to the trunk almost gingerly, the ‘Y’ shape of the knotted tree proving to be a delicate matter. The points of the shears and a white ponytail that mirrored the direction of his own hair with the breeze was all that Suo could see from the back door.

It wasn’t the first time in the two weeks since he’d arrived that he’d glimpsed a similar scene. Her hair color was often seen as the sun rose and the finches chirped, though she left the noisy chores for the late afternoons, when the sun was at its peak. He wasn’t sure of the purpose, though he could surmise it was better to water flowers in the morning. The humid late-spring weather was even uncomfortable for him and yet the feminine figure still stood as a silhouette, even as the temperature visibly radiated through the air.

He rested his elbow on the table beside him, cheek resting on his knuckles with a pleasant expression on his face as he admired her, recalling the name the realtor had mentioned in passing- Sana Isla. She had a foreign first name. That and her freckled nose, cheeks and shoulders reminded him that he was still capable of curiosity. His eye on her was evidence of this, something he’d caught himself doing more than once since his arrival. Each time, the embarrassment only hit him before her head turned on instinct, averting his gaze past her instead preemptively. The last thing he needed was for her to be wary of him, his mind far more encumbered with ruminations of the past.

I’ve never been in love, I’ve been alone.

Since his master’s passing, he began to value his solitude a bit too much these days, none other than he having graced the halls of his familiar property. It was only natural that he’d keep his distance with the staff. To his and others’ surprise, he was especially diligent in avoiding the gardens altogether for a while, having opted to wait until this pain had subsided at least a tad. The watery emotions that stirred within his chest rivaling that of a typhoon were there even as he spoke with others, wrestling with these feelings of something being missing. The discomfort of masking it was becoming increasingly harder to bear, the only solace being the tranquility of his new surroundings. He did his best to stay optimistic–people lose loved ones all the time, after all– and dedicated himself to being well, or at least trying anyway.

Sana had been feeling tingles on the back of her neck since his arrival, but she was beginning to feel like an idiot with the way he looked past her, as if he was messing with her on purpose. She knew that was a stretch– she was just the gardener. Though, a few glances of her own often landed on him. His earrings were eye-catching as he walked into the dojo through the soft dirt path in the meadow, or in the halls of the house through opened doors. His graceful appearance and Chinese vintage clothing choices weren’t exactly regular amongst the farmers and mountaineers that occupied the town at the end of the driveway. His demeanor was like that of royalty, poised and proper, and yet his eye looked upon others with no such arrogance. Instead, in this rare moment, he sat stationary, a wistful look on his face as he observed the scene outside. She tried her best to stay out of his sight, more than aware now that he was most likely trying to enjoy the solitude he was here for.

Sana couldn’t help but notice how different Suo was from the old man she’d come to know, having worked for him for much of her late teens. It seemed so recent that they had been discussing the new plans for the garden, a project that she enjoyed so much she felt it was a disservice to be paid for it. However, the man insisted, taking her input to heart regarding florals and the new addition of fruit trees. She felt truly heard in those moments, the blueprints still in the garden shed, hung up for easy viewing. She’d proceeded to begin the improvements, a part of her holding on to his kindness while the other emotions accompanying their brainstorming seemed to dissipate. She remembered the way he’d sass her on things, his dry humor a fond memory for her.

The nostalgic thoughts made her pause in her pruning, a slight pang of her own grief in her stomach. She wondered what relation Suo had to him to have inherited the entire property. She had overheard from the realtor speaking with the housekeeper, the one who’d helped Suo settle in and unpack, that he’d been willed the house unexpectedly. According to what she’d heard, Suo was strongly against the idea of succeeding his master as the owner of Kanra house, having respectfully declined what was stated in the will. However, what could not be explained was Suo’s responsiveness to the realtor, calling to view the house that April day. The turn of events was just as mysterious as the man himself.

Under his ownership, not many things had changed for Sana, save for the lack of helping hands. Accounting and staff management became obsolete, though the last thing the property manager had said as he was leaving was that mr. Suo wanted to follow through with the blueprints his predecessor had drafted. Though he had no way of knowing it, this decision touched her heart deeply, the final piece of the prior owner’s existence embedded in the work they’d done together. She never spoke of it to Suo, however, content in respecting the bounds he’d put in place. Each person deals with loss differently, she’d reasoned, though it was abnormal for her to feel such strong compassion.

Feels like I’ve been living life asleep

For the month of May, a mental block began to settle in for Sana as she looked at the blueprints each morning, dodging them in favor of her normal routine: water the gardens before sunrise, weed in the morning, feed the orange mouser cat, and maintain the gardens in the afternoon. She’d open the shed only to close it, the cleared land for the new perennials becoming pelted with seeds that sprouted volunteer plants she carefully removed. The area felt like she did- empty and devoid of the lively atmosphere she and the land once had. She couldn’t bring herself to read his handwriting, her fingers often brushing it absently with lost eyes almost glaring at it. A part of her was envious of Suo, of his connection being strong enough to grant him ownership of the garden she so adored. She knew the others felt the same, although they always volunteered their denial when she never asked.

“...So, who IS he exactly, Ms Hayase?”

Sana finally asked the housekeeper one day as she helped hang the sheets, a clothespin between her teeth as she spread the linen out onto the line.

The older woman sighed exasperatedly as she stretched her arms a little.

“Who d’ya mean, Daburu?”

She asked in response. The nickname Daburu, ‘double’, was pinned on Sana as soon as her coworkers realized her ethnicity. She used to hate it, but was relieved it wasn’t the derogatory “Hafu”. After a while it just sort of… Stuck.

“Mr. Suo. Is he a relative, or something? They looked nothing alike, though,”

Sana pressed, taking the clothespin out of her mouth to slide it onto the sheets and the line.

“Oh~ Curious?”

Hayase teased, a wily glint in her eyes. Sana made a face as she shook out another sheet from the basket.

“From what I hear, he was that old man’s apprentice for a while, but… I guess he’s pretty wealthy too. He added new antiques around the house. It looks like Little China inside now, pretty paintings, the works! Oddly though, he definitely isn’t mixed like you, so maybe he just likes the look.”

Hayase gossiped, spilling the details she had obviously been hoping someone would ask. She, too, started to work and talk, noting the subtle change in Sana’s face.

“...I meant more so what he’s like, yanno, to talk to,”

Sana clarified bluntly, the expression on her face both deadpan and curious. She had grabbed the last of the sheets from the basket as Hayase answered her,

“Oh, well, he’s… polite, I guess. Sometimes he just sends me home, and even when I’ve asked why he always has this sorta– sweet way of telling you to go fuck yourself. He’s a tough nut to crack, that’s for sure.”

Sana raised an eyebrow at this, noting the wrinkle in Hayase’s nose as she spoke of him. Why wasn’t she more surprised?

“Huh,”

She remarked simply, much to Hayase’s annoyance, but neither of them said anything else as they worked.

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Suo had begun exercising in the dojo in the mornings, his efforts to avoid burning himself out starting to wane as he grew bored of it. What’s even the point of all this? Why should he choose to continue training after all of the experiences he’d had? He’d chosen to teach Nirei, the caterpillar that he was, and found some joy in it, and yet he couldn’t help but question what his own worth was exactly. Had he really learned enough before his master passed away? He had little of these answers, his confidence wavering the more he shut himself away. He had no one to bounce off of, no one to correct, and no one to challenge here. He was completely separated from the home he had created, buried in the life of his predecessor, or what remained of it.

One of those remains was the garden and the girl who came with it like a package deal. He had to admit, the air of the gardens and trails were one of the only solaces that allowed him to cling onto his sanity at times. He’d been out reading or walking more frequently, the silence meditative enough to clear his thoughts away to the here and now. It was ironic that such a sight came from someone who looked quite similar to his senpai Umemiya, the green thumb and white hair the only commonalities between them, it seemed. How fitting that someone who he owes gratitude to holds the likeness of another he admired. Perhaps it was the earnestness that Sana displayed despite the look in her eyes as she opened the shed door time and time again that tethered him to the idea of persevering.

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Sana had begun her day as usual, a heavy sloshing can of water dangling from her fingers as she trudged onward toward the notched Japanese Black pines that overhung the path towards the house entrance. The only difficulty came when she hesitated, spotting Suo gazing forlorn at the potted white daisy-like flowers that sat cheerfully at the bottom of the front steps. He held that same demeanor as before, the morning sun flashing through his earrings. She had noticed a small change: there was no falsehood in his expression now.

She decided to leave him be, although that plan was foiled the minute she started watering the crepe myrtle that were among the decorative trees she had planted at the beginning of her employment here. The closer she got, the more turmoil she noticed on his features. As she neared him, his stormy eye met hers for the first time. It felt like she’d been struck by the lightning within it, not out of anger from him or fear from her. More so, she felt as if she was peering into a moment she shouldn’t have. Despite this discomfort, she still reached out to that turmoil,

“...Those might not be getting enough sun here. Should I move them?”

Her expression, as Suo had expected, remained unchanged, a natural stoicism gracing her features as she stilted the off kilter weight onto one leg. Suo scoffed a little chuckle, that disingenuous smile dusting his lips ever so slightly. Sana expected a simple yes or no from the rumored frigid man, but the warmth in his words told her otherwise.

“Ah- No… the quality is lovely… Miss Sana, was it?”

She nodded at his question, his eye leaving hers to return to the flowers they were discussing.

“-- I was simply admiring it, that’s all… This flower symbolizes loss.”

Sana raised an eyebrow at his words. She remembered a certain old man who said something similar.

“To who?”

She asked, the incredulous look on her face spurring another arid chuckle from him. It was so jovial for being utterly hollow. Suo was wary of people like her, people who asked open-ended questions that made the average person spill their deepest darkest secrets without noticing it. He hardly knew if she was such a person, but his assessment was clearly not yet complete about her. He answered casually, directing the conversation away from speaking of himself, though his shoulders turned to face her,

“In the past, people used to communicate through floriography…flower language. My… late master was quite fond of it.”

Sana’s mouth twitched a little at his revelation, eyes lowering to make sure she didn’t spill any extra water from the can as she tipped it over a nearby shrub.

“Mmh- yeah… he only knew the Eastern ones, though…”

She replied, the white chrysanthemums in the corner of her eye making her freckled nose wrinkle in thought.

Suo’s eye widened in surprise as she mentioned his master so casually. Who was she in his life exactly? His reeling mind was interrupted as she continued to speak,

“Where I’m from, we say it’s for loyalty.”

She stilted on one long leg and swung the can over to water the soil around the plant. His face lowered in thought, muttering a quiet, ‘I see…’ as he pondered her words once again.

“Were these… your idea then?”

He raised his eyebrows as he awaited her answer, craning his neck to look at her once more. She tilted her head from side to side with pursed lips, not meeting his gaze. She tipped the can up before replying,

“More or less… he liked it so much he made me tell ‘im the other ones I knew… It was pretty fun to compare.”

Her face smoothed into something more pleasant, though it only ghosted her features and hardly met her lips. He noticed how she often didn’t smile, the lack of expression reminiscent of the cold-faced fighters he often worked alongside. Though, her stoicism was not intimidating, nor inviting. She just…was. Suo nodded, gazing at the water droplets that dusted the stems and petals of the chrysanthemums.

“You must be from the west, then?”

He asked, watching her form as she moved to another potted flower. He found himself pressed to hear her answer, finally attempting to put a rest to his curiosity. Her gaze rose to meet his, her head nodding a little. A soft ‘yeah’ escaped her lips. Suo’s eyebrows creased slightly as he pried a little, though his surprise at her own simple answers made the cogs in his head turn ever-faster. He took another look at the flower before her shadow moved from his vision.

Her lithe figure travelled easily, though careful, to another section of the path. The soft canvas shoes on pavement were audible in her peripheral as he followed some distance behind her. He found he was determined to know what she knew–what she had taught his master despite his age.

“Was there… a particular reason why you might’ve chosen them for him?”

He asked, yearning for any connection to who his master had been in his absence. He found himself grasping at every turn for it, unable to make an exception for the gardener as she held a deeper connection to him than Suo once thought. He watched as her chin tilted down and head tipped slightly in contemplation, organizing her thoughts as her hands remained moving.

“In the States, you’d say it means loyalty, but it’s used for funerals too. I always thought the message was about your merit as a person. If you’re memorable enough… that loyalty would follow you even in death,”

She explained, troubled eyes turning towards him.

“He must’a liked that too since he asked for ‘em.”

That look in her eyes, no matter how subtle, was similar to his own, and it was this moment that confirmed what he thought no one ever would: he wasn’t as alone as he thought he was.

Love so strong it makes me feel so weak

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Hey y’all, thank you for reading💚 this is my baby, so I’m taking my time with it, I might even edit it still from time to time. Please let me know your thoughts on it, I’m still trying to learn 😭

-Ro

#slow burn #hayato suo x oc #suo hayato x reader #hayato suo #windbreaker #wbk suo #wbk #angst

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