#i was worried this fic wouldn't scrape 1k and somehow winds up being 2k ugh i'm exhausted

[merryfortune]

The Princess’ Garden Floristry

Written for Femslash February 2023

Prompt: Garden

Title: The Princess’ Garden Floristry

Ship: Haruka/Nodoka

Fandom: Go! Princess Pretty Cure & Healin’ Good Pretty Cure

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.066

Tags: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Meet-Cute, Childhood Friends, Reunions, Aged-Up Characters, Crushes, Developing Relationship

   There was a girl that Nodoka knew once that wanted to be a princess.

   They had only met when they were seven or eight and it wasn’t very often but occasionally, she would come to the hospital that Nodoka was staying at so she could try doing good deeds in the image of how she wanted to be. 

   As far as Nodoka was concerned, she was a princess. She denied it though. She didn’t think she was pretty enough or graceful enough but she had a very big heart. Not many children, Nodoka thought as she collected vague musings on her previous classmates, from before she got sick, would worry for those who were ill. She did, however.

   And she always brought flowers with her.

   That was Nodoka’s favourite part of the visits that this girl gave her… and the others of the ward that she belonged to. She was just so sweet and knowledgeable and passionate. As far as Nodoka’s child self was concerned, this girl knew everything and anything about flowers. What they meant in the language of flowers, how to best grow them, where they were native to. All those sorts of things.

   She always saved her favourite, roses, for last and for Nodoka, Nodoka recalled. Her heart fluttered whenever that girl gave her a smile and her spirits soared. Even if she was prone to a coughing fit or stomach pain afterwards. Not quite so romantic but that’s just the life of being chronically ill.

   “Did you know there are over thirty-thousand varieties of roses?” she told Nodoka one day.

   “Nope,” Nodoka replied, shaking her head, “that’s so many.”

   “It is.” she smiled. “There are pink ones, red ones, orange ones, ones which are more than one colour. Some are big, some are small and I love them all.”

   “I do too.” Nodoka replied, entranced by the girl and her love for all things flowers. Then she blinked. “Are there blue roses?” Nodoka asked innocently.

   Now, blue was not her favourite colour. Nor was it even this girl’s favourite colour, if Nodoka recalled correctly from how she always wore a pink dress. In fact, pink was Nodoka’s favourite colour, too but blue, she thought, had a special place in her heart.

   Feeling blue: blue was a feeling of sadness, of hopelessness and worse but it was also a colour of freedom. Whenever Nodoka recalled her last day as a well and healthy child, she thought of the green grass, the multi-coloured flowers in the park, and the huge, blue sky overhead. So blue, as deathly as it was, was still a colour she liked and having already seen parades and cavalcades of pink roses, orange roses, and other types of roses, Nodoka wanted to know. Were there blue roses as well?

   She thought, surely, if there were more than thirty-thousand kinds of roses, then it was possible that there were blue ones. Not to mention, this girl had brought pansies along before as a gift and they came in blue. Bluebells, too, and some violets were more blue than purple, too. Nodoka liked them all but with the sky in the corner of her eye, yearning to be outside in the gardens with this girl rather than bedridden, Nodoka was curious.

   “There aren’t actually.” the girl replied to Nodoka’s question.

   “Oh.” Nodoka murmured, disappointed and visibility deflating in her shoulders. She turned her head slightly, more towards the windowsill and what view that she had of the hospital’s courtyard. Sitting on her windowsill was a trio of flowers - blue, pink, and yellow - and all gifted from this girl.

   “Hey, look at me,” the girl said, gentle, excited, and Nodoka obeyed, sheepish, coughing, “I know a trick that turns roses blue. They may be artificial but I think they’re still pretty and special.”

   “Can I see this trick?” Nodoka asked.

   “A-yup,” the girl nodded her head vigorously, “let me go get a white rose and I’ll need a texta.”

   “There should be some in the kid’s playroom just down the hall.” Nodoka said, trying to be helpful.

   “I’ll only be a minute then.” the girl said.

   She was, obviously, a little longer than a minute but Nodoka held her breath in bated and it felt just as swift all the same. What the girl showed her, was a moment that Nodoka came to cherish forever and always as it was, to her child mind, sheltered and sickly, completely and utterly magical.

   The girl returned but seemingly empty-handed. She showed off the rose but not the texta that she had procured.

   “Watch closely.” She invited Nodoka to pay attention.

   Which she did, most rapt.

   The girl thrust out her hand, the stem of the rose embedded inside of her fist. The rose was white. At first. But the stronger the girl held her hand in a fist, the more that white changed to blue. It was very slow and very pale but Nodoka watched as blue threaded through the veins of the rose’s petals and it no longer remained white.

   “Tada. A blue rose, just for you.” the girl cheered.

   “Thank you, I love it.” Nodoka replied and honestly, she could have cried.

   She had never had someone go to such lengths before. Now there was another variety of rose in the world for her, just for her and the proof of it was dyed in the ink of the stains on that girl’s palms as she handed over the rose to Nodoka. She kept the rose in a glass container filled with water, on the windowsill with the previous flowers, and she would have loved to have kept it forever and ever but flowers withered away.

   So did names and faces, unfortunately. 

   But Nodoka believed that the girl had the sort of name that, once she got a hint or prompt of it, she would immediately remember it in full. It was that sort of name, she thought. Same for if she saw all the finer details of her face beyond vague recollections of greeny-blue eyes and maybe gingery-brown hair. 

   Still, it hurt Nodoka so much that she no longer recalled the name of that girl who had been such a bright spot in amongst all the invasive procedures and the slogs of days going by in pain and boredom. It felt like a desecration to all the joy that girl had sparked in Nodoka but again. That was just the phase of the world, of life. Flowers withered and people forgot. 

   After all, the girl eventually stopped visiting. Nodoka never found out why. Maybe she moved away? Maybe she stopped wanting to become a princess and thus, her good deeds fell to the wayside. Maybe her interest in flowers withered away, too.

   Nodoka hoped that it was the first option. The others… To think of them and the blur of that girl’s face which she always recalled as being sweet and smiling, it would break Nodoka’s heart. She wanted nothing but the best for that girl because she had always wished nothing but the best for Nodoka: with that big, princessly heart of hers adorned with a smile and a presence like a ray of sunshine.

   Because, in the end, years later after spending all her youth in and out of the hospital, doing school by distance education, Nodoka did get better. Her illness became more manageable. She still lived with her parents, however, and they had recently moved to downsize to somewhere with fresh air… and fresh flowers almost everywhere.

   “You should go visit this florist, I like the sound of the shop and a bouquet would liven up the house as we move in.” Her Mother suggested.

   Nodoka was handed a newspaper clipping. It read - The Princess’ Garden Floristry, grand opening - and was dated for today. The logo that was printed on it was pink and looping, festooned with roses and something about that name. It was so obvious that no wonder her Mother thought she’d like it.

   In tiny text, it had a street address and with a smile, Nodoka replied, “I’d like to go but are you sure you don’t want me to help with the move in?”

   “You're so young, you should go out and explore, catch the bus there or home, but don’t push yourself.” Her Mother diplomatically replied.

   That was her Mother’s way of being nice saying she was worried Nodoka would get hurt or tire herself out too much. Not that the exact same thing couldn’t happen if she wasn’t wandering out and about in the town that they had moved into but Nodoka smiled.

   “I’d like that, I’ll see you when I get home then.” Nodoka replied.

   Nodoka nodded her head and collected her purse. She held onto the clipping tight and kept the address in mind. It actually wasn’t that far away, it wasn’t exactly a hop, skip, and a step away but Nodoka found it easy enough. That big logo of theirs especially helpful as it was plastered over the storefront’s facade.

   Seeing it up close, it looked both gauche and amazing. Nodoka’s inner child squealed in delight at the white bricks and the ribbons and the bunches of flowers on display in the window. The decor of the building most certainly lived up to the royal decree of having such a name.

   Nodoka came inside and the bell attached to the door tinkled over head. It had such a pretty timbre. She began looking at the pre-made bouquets and there was a focus on roses. Pink ones, orange ones, red ones, and ones which were multi-coloured but a Nodoka wandered closer to the cash register, she saw a most amazing bouquet at that closest point.

   This bouquet was of white and blue roses. Artificially blue, Nodoka was willing to bet but blue nonetheless and a sky blue. Not an overwhelming blue like the ocean nor a sad blue, either, just a pretty blue.

   Nodoka’s ears pricked on the sound of footsteps as the storeperson came in from the backrooms. Nodoka turned her head and her jaw dropped. She knew that lady, about her own age though much more filled out and womanly-looking.

   And, more amazingly, the storeperson knew her.

   “Nodoka.” she gasped.

   “Haruka.” Nodoka finally, blessedly remembered.

   Haruno Haruka. A very springy and very quirky name which was exactly the sort of name that Nodoka knew she would recall instantly if she had some sort of hint and there was no hint better than the blue of Haruka’s eyes and how she smiled so sweetly.

   “It's been ages.” Haruka sheepishly said. “I-I’ve missed you, I always wondered about you.”

   “Me too.” Nodoka said and she shuffled closer to the cash register Haruka stood behind. She fidgeted and she felt rather silly for asking but she had to, “So, um, did you ever become a princess?” she asked.

   “I think so.” Haruka smiled warmly. “I made it through my ugly duckling phase and I’ve learned to dance and play violin but being a princess does not pay the rent,” she laughed, “so florist it is. What about you?”

   “I, um, am unemployed, and new in town, my parents and I moved in literally today but I would like to become a full-time student. I don’t even have to say if my health allows anymore, I’m much stronger than I was compared to back then. I still have bad days but what can you do?”

   “I’m really glad to hear that.” Haruka said. “So, let me guess, a bouquet as a housewarming gift, yes?”

   “Yes.” Nodoka replied and she could feel the stars in her eyes as she found herself falling head over heels for her long-lost childhood friend, “And I already know which bouquet I want.”

   “That’s good. Which one?” Haruka asked.

   “I would like this one, please.” Nodoka said and she pointed at the nearest bouquet of blue and white flowers.

   “I thought so.” Haruka said and she allowed Nodoka to take it off the display.

   Nodoka embraced all the flowers, the softness of the petals peeking through the plastic wrap they were in. She smiled all giddy as Haruka rang her up through the cash register.

   “Please visit any time, Nodoka.” Haruka bade her. “I would really like to see you again sometime.”

   “I will.” Nodoka replied, eagerly taking the invitation. “I want to see you more as well.”