Daffodils
by: Loralei Fairhill
Rated: G
Genre: First Season WAFF (warm and fuzzy feeling)


i wrote this while walking home from school the other day. i'm kinda like 
Mamoru in this fic . . . well, u'll see. and i KNOW my kotaishi is more like 
a daffodil than a rose. . . . heeł ^^;;;;;;; 


     I don't know. Maybe it's because I've never felt that kind of happiness, 
you know, the kind where you're filled with the glory of the blue sky and the 
spring air and the sun's brightness, that I have never loved daffodils. They 
were too garish, too loud; they made themselves known. I've always loved the 
subtle beauty of roses. No, it's not because I'm Tuxedo Kamen. I know I loved 
them before that. It's more to the fact that, for all their beauty, they're 
silent. Silent! Even the yellow ones don't call attention to themselves like 
daffodils. Do you see what I'm trying to say? Well, maybe this will help you.
  
      It was a perfecty ordinary day. Well, okay, I lied, it wasn't ordinary. 
An ordinary day would mean that I aced my bio exam that morning. What 
happened? I failed it. Flat out, just failed. 33%. In all my school years, 
I've never failed anything. Maybe that's why I did what I did next.
      There she was, the girl from the arcade. The one with the two strange 
buns atop her head and streaming golden ponytails flowing from them. She 
looked so forlorn, walking home by herself, a test paper in her hand.
      I had really wanted to talk to her, to tell her how pretty and cute I 
thought she was. Then, and sometimes now, she reminded me of a rosebud. I was 
sure she'd bloom very soon, sure I'd have the strength to say hello to her. 
Obviously, I didn't. She threw her test paper behind her and at my head. I 
uncrumpled it and read the bold red ink. 33%. Same as me! No one should do 
that badly. I guess I was angry with myself and took it out on her, because I 
berated her, insulted her and called her Odango Atama. Afterwards, I scolded 
myself bitterly for taking my agressions out on such innocence.
      The next day, when she bounced into the arcade to talk to *insert 
cutesy voice* 'Motoki-'nii-san', I did it again. I had meant to apoligize, 
but my mouth ran away with me and I ended up making her quite upset. Needless 
to say, Motoki was not pleased with me. He said that he *insert fatherly 
tone* 'couldn't understand why I had done such a mean thing' and 'if I had 
really wanted to be nice, like I said, then whay was I so awful?' I couldn't 
answer him because I didn't know myself. 
      The following Saturday found me jogging through the park. Jogging 
always seems to clear my head. It was early spring, so the air was chilly, 
but the flowers were creeping up. I stopped my run to admire a particularly 
lovely cluster of purple and gold crocuses. Suddenly, I felt a light tap on 
my shoulder. It was the girl. And she was apoligizing to ME. I was confused, 
and rightly so. The apoligy should have gone the other way around. 
Unfortunately I had no chance to tell her so because as soon as  I had opened 
my mouth, she started to drag me in the direction of the daffodil gardens.
      Daffodils?! I thought. They were my least favorite flower. She had 
somehow gotten me in the garden, sat down on a park bench and proceeded to 
name all of them. She obviously liked daffodils. I didn't understand why 
until I saw the flow that had a double white cup with a fringe of light 
saffron. It reminded me of her hair. On impulse, I stood up. She ceased her 
chattering and looked up at me wonderingly. I went over to the bloom and 
picked it in one swift motion. I then turned and
handed it gingerly to her, saying that its colors rivaled the golden hue of 
her
hair, but she was much more lovely by far. She stood agast, mostly because I 
had done something so nice for her. Finally I had found the courage to do
what I intended from the very first. And all because of a daffodil.
      
      Why don't I like daffodils? You're wrong, because I do. More than 
roses. 
      
      Usako may appreciate roses, but she likes daffodils more. They match 
her personality better: gay and resiliant, just as roses match mine: strong 
and silent. 
      When I asked her to be mine last week, I did it with flowers: red roses 
and white daffodils. They compliment eachother perfectly, don't you think?