Suzu: First of all, I'd like to disclaim the characters found in this work as well as the prompt. Thanks to Hayao Miyazaki-sensei for his amazing attention to detail and culture in 'Spirited Away'.

This is for pinkconchshell, and her lovely bouquet challenge.

This story is told in a three-shot, but can be lumped together in a one-shot. There is a glossary for the cultural terms at the end of the story, and not each chapter (sorry! But the story is not so very long, and meant to be read in one go).

Some of the italicized words that are cultural (not stress tones) will be explained! I thought it was only fair to preserve the Japanese culture, since Miyazaki's film does that so well.

P.S. I've always loved ikebana.

Alternate Summary: As a normal girl earning her living in a normal job, it was expected that he bring her flowers. But as the petals blew away, they gleamed like dragon scales. "response to Pinkconchshell's bouquet challenge"

'thoughts'.

"speech."

Bouquet

I.

She was floating, gliding in the sky. Time seemed to hang still.

A name whispered. Secrets tumbling out into the wind.

And the flower petals blew away like white, iridescent scales, rushing close and tickling her nose before sweeping past her chestnut brown locks.

She closed her eyes, and then opened them again to wake in her 2DK in downtown Tokyo.

…..

Chihiro had applied for the job out of an urge to create, a whim to design something grand, imposing, and beautifully complex. The idea was to become a famous architect, one who melded past and present in an art that created purely Japanese buildings.

The frequent nighttime dreams of an imposing traditional bathhouse and little dancing Shinto spirits certainly played into that. They'd started when she was ten, when all children started to have dreams for the future. That was normal, thank you very much.

Her peers sometimes looked at her and sniffed ("there Chi-chan goes, with her obsession with ancient history"), but Chihiro stuck to her guns. That's why she had applied to an acclaimed architectural college in Chiyoda, close to the former Imperial Palace.

That was not why she ended up doing knick-knack interior design for a small firm in Shinjuku district, Tokyo.

One thing had led to another, and with the economy being what it was (and her parents being who they were: persistent), Chihiro Ogino had settled for a job in the heart of a veritable concrete jungle.

At twenty-two, she'd been lucky to get a job in the weeks before college graduation.

A friend (okay, an ex-boyfriend. Chihiro still cringed every single time her mother hinted they get back together) had recommended her.

After a botched interview that still led to her being hired, Chihiro had to wonder if a few strings were being pulled behind her back.

And that did not make her happy.

When she'd tried to come home during vacation, her mother had wheedled her daughter out of it over the phone. "Tokyo's so advanced architecturally. Chihiro, darling, I don't see why you'd be unhappy with this chance."

"Hnh. Your mother's right. Just try it out for a while, Chihiro. Money doesn't fall from trees, you know."

That was the worst part. There was no logical reason to be unhappy as an interior designer making close to 300,000 yen a year. It was simply that designing different hardwood floors and arranging imported furniture for wealthy couples who didn't reside in Japan half the time seemed… not like the future she'd planned? Maybe she would prefer to design for the small suburban district where her parents had moved to when she was ten. A smaller community. Greener. More spacious plains.

Ri-ight.

Try hillbilly-ville.

Her college mates would all quickly be leaving the hallowed halls of the university and settling largely in Tokyo or the Kanto area. Everyone was done with classes, and only waiting for the actual ceremony to be done and over with so they could party hard and move on with life. Which twenty-something year old in her right mind would choose to be tucked away at the peak of her career and social privileges?

"Ms. Ogino."

'Huh?' Chihiro nodded absently before nearly dropping the phone receiver.

"About the décor for our loft."

"Ah. Um, yes Ma'am. You said you wanted contemporary?" She had no clue what Mrs. Saiko wanted. Her notepad was covered in little doodles of animals wearing noh masks. Contemporary was just the most popular theme requested by clients.

Mrs. Saiko actually tutted over the phone. It made Chihiro want to let the phone drop oh so casually back onto the desk. But she knew better.

"I said that you could try to be creative, dear. You're young, still in college." Mrs. Saiko sniffed, ignoring Chihiro's weak protest that she was graduating in 'mere days—all the preparation is done!'.

"Ms. Ogino, I would like you to bestow a little faith in me of the skill of young Japanese interior designers. Otherwise, we would switch to our Swiss contractors. You understand."

"I do, Ma'am."

"So then, what did you have in mind?"

Chihiro wracked her brains. Her brown eyes darted to the tiny advertisement in the office's mail for a weekend trip to the magnolia gardens, newly opened in the suburbs.

"Flowers?" she blurted. "How about ikebana?"

The older woman seemed to frown again over the phone. "Are you asking me a question, Ms. Ogino? I did say I would leave it up to your… well, judgment. Now I really must be going. Good day, m'dear."

The phone clicked. Chihiro stared at the receiver in her hand, slightly shocked. She blinked at it a few more times before harshly clacking it back onto the phone stand.

An intern who had wandered by the Ogino cubicle ("the one belonging to the cranky girl. Yes, the one who always looks like she's got her head in the clouds") cringed at the loud sound.

Chihiro looked at the mousy intern's saucer-like eyes, and she felt an instant surge of shame and fatigue. Chihiro covered it up with a wry grin at the intern.

"Hey. I love my job," she mustered in her best cheery voice.