A/N: My first Weiss Kreuz fic, don't hurt me. This is just a simple rebellion against Mary-Sues and sex-driven Weiss boys. Girls DO buy flowers just because they want flowers, you know.
Abnormally Normal
Ran snored gently, water bubbling out of the terracotta pot in front of him. He held the still running hose in one limp hand, the water spilling out in a constant stream.
"Five bucks he wakes up before it gets into his shoes," Yoji commented out of the corner or his mouth.
"You're on," Ken hissed back.
"I hope so," said Omi, his face the very picture of anxiety. "Those are new. If they get ruined he'll be on our backs for weeks."
A sudden silence fell onto the small group.
"Hey, Ran, dude, the hose is running!"
Ran snorted and opened his eyes drowsily. He glanced down at the length of plastic tubing in his hand. "Aha," he said quietly. "Could someone turn that off?"
Ken raised his hand. "That would be me," he said, and skipped off to the back.
The water slowed. Ran stared at it until the dripping stopped. "I have to go to the bathroom," he said finally, inching his way toward the stairs.
"So it's just us then," Yoji grinned, wrapping his arm around Omi's neck. "We can divide up the girls evenly."
The bell on the door rang with astonishing alacrity.
"Like this one," he continued, adjusting his sunglasses and lighting up a cigarette.
The customer moved into view from around a tall shelf of lucky bamboo. It WAS a girl, but the most rectangular member of the opposite sex Omi had ever seen. Her hair was a harsh bleached-gold, cut short so that her bangs hung over her eyes, which were either black or a very dark brown. She opened her mouth to say something.
"How old are you?" asked Yoji suddenly. She shut her mouth and stared at him.
"Fifteen," she answered, in a voice that was a bit too low and raspy for her body. She sounded a bit like she had been eating gravel. "I need some help. My mom's birthday is tomorrow, and my father, in his infinite wisdom, has given my ten dollars to buy a bouqet for her. Do you have anything that's pretty and yet still affordable?"
Yoji nudged Omi in the small of the back. "This one's yours, kid," he leered. "She's jailbait for me."
Omi scowled but walked forward anyway, and the girl grinned uncertainly. "Hi," she said, pointing at his nametag, "Omi. Nice to meet you. I'm Maryoko."
"Hi, Maryoko," Omi replied, leading her absent-mindedly over to the large cooler in the corner. He opened the sliding glass door. "Do you have anything in mind?"
"Azaleas* are nice," Maryoko said thoughtfully, biting her bottom lip in a way that would have been cute on a smaller girl. "She likes Day Lilies**."
"We've got some Day Lilies," Omi said, running a hand through his hair. "But we're fresh out of azaleas."
"Azaleas are popular flowers?" she asked, arching her slightly overgrown eyebrows.
Omi chortled. "You'd be surprised," he responded. "We see practically everything in here. We sell dozens of Venus Flytraps a week, for one."
"You're kidding," Maryoko gasped, stifling a snort of laughter. "A cheap substitution for pest control."
"Not cheap, actually," Omi said, straining to reach a vase of azaleas that a long-armed SOMEONE (he though dirty thoughts about his fellow coworkers) had stuffed far in the back. "The stupid things are incredibly slow and you have to buy tons to make much of a difference. We see a lot of the same people."
"I would imagine so," she answered back, wincing as he struggled. "Do you need a hand?"
"Or three," he grunted, waggling his fingers at the taunting vase.
"I only have two," she said, maneuvering herself into the small space that wasn't occupied by either Omi or the door, "but I'll see what I can do."
One (increasingly complicated) brief skirmish later...
"I've got it!" Maryoko cried, flourishing the small vase like the Holy Grail.
"You suck!" Omi pouted, scrabbling for a hold on the slick metal shelves.
There was a moment of silence. "I'm also STUCK," Maryoko said slowly.
Omi jiggled his leg. "As am I," he replied, trying to get his foot out of a bucket of roses.
"I'm getting cold," Maryoko said after a while.
"Aha. Me too. This comes from being in a giant refrigerator."
There was another period of silence.
"Look!" Omi groaned. "Yoji is flirting! FLIRTING! And at a time like this! Doesn't he SEE us?"
"He sees HER," Maryoko said darkly, leaning back against the wall.
Omi stared at her. Her arms were crossed over her chest in the traditional "This-isn't-fair" stance taken up by girls everywhere, but her eyes were averted slightly, almost sadly. She didn't look like the kind of girl who would care, but she was JEALOUS! Jealous of what, though?
"Are you okay?" he asked tentatively.
"I'm FINE," she spat, waving a hand harshly.
"We've got time," Omi said after a moment. "It'll take loverboy out there a while to notice us in here."
Maryoko bit her lower lip again, glaring out through the glass. "I'm never noticed, you know that?" she said quietly after a moment. "You'd think that someone as big as me would attract SOME kind of attention, but I'm invisible, like that guy on fifth and main."
"There's a guy on fifth and main?"
"See?" she said, her voice rising in pitch. "Invisible! No one sees me long enough to care."
"-I- saw you," Omi said defensively.
"You were helping me in a store," she said dismissively. "That doesn't count. You'd get fired if you didn't stay with me."
"Actually, I probably wouldn't..." Omi said slowly, remembering that one time that Ran would have been dead, only...
"Oh, yes you would," Maryoko said darkly. "It's happened before, you know. My dad says I just don't assert myself enough. People find it easy to ignore me because I make myself ignorable."
Omi looked at her. She was normal. She had normal things to worry about, guys and parents and peer pressure. She didn't have to worry about whether or not she would be alive tomorrow, or wonder if she could kill one more person...
The door opened, and they fell out. Ken stared down at them.
"How many times do I have to tell you, Omi," he said, somehow keeping his face straight. "Don't shag random customers in the refrigerator. It's bad for business."
Omi and Maryoko looked at each other. She opened her mouth. "Yes, you have my permission to castrate him," Omi said, heaving himself up on his elbows.
"I was GOING to ask if I could knee him," she retorted, "but I like your idea better. Got any pruning shears?"
"Oh, haha, very funny, I'm laughing like hell deep down, etcetera etcetera, get back to work, Omi," Ken said, walking away.
"Got a sense of humor like a wire coat hanger, doesn't he?" Maryoko commented as Omi rang up her hard-earned purchase.
"Wire? Nah," Omi shot back. "Wooden, maybe."
"Harhar," she said. "Wooden coat hangers are old fashioned." She paused. "Was he wearing goggles on his head?"
"YES," Omi replied, handing her the frost-bitten vase. "And does so constantly. I wouldn't be surprised if he wore them in BED."
"Goggles are not quite as old-fashioned as wooden coat hangers," Maryoko said sternly, bouncing the fragile glass from one palm to the other. "But more old-fashioned than Day Lilies."
They both stared at the flowers.
"Day Lilies have been around for a while," Omi said slowly.
"Not THESE lilies," she mumbled sullenly. "But anyway, I have to go. My dad is probably wondering where I am."
"Um, right," Omi said.
The bell on the door rang as forlornly as a jolly string of jinglebells could as she swung the door open and closed. Omi watched her go, the first real person he had ever met.
He stopped. That was a strange thought to think. Real? He saw real people everyday, with their real clothes and real cars and real problems.
But Maryoko... she was much more tangible, as though she was somehow MORE REAL. Other girls came to the flower shop in search of Ran's phone number, but she had come in search of a birthday present. She had come... because she was real. She was the most abnormally normal person he had ever met.
Omi watched her go, the last real person he would ever meet.
_____________________
*The Chinese symbol of Womanhood
**The Chinese symbol of Motherhood
Abnormally Normal
Ran snored gently, water bubbling out of the terracotta pot in front of him. He held the still running hose in one limp hand, the water spilling out in a constant stream.
"Five bucks he wakes up before it gets into his shoes," Yoji commented out of the corner or his mouth.
"You're on," Ken hissed back.
"I hope so," said Omi, his face the very picture of anxiety. "Those are new. If they get ruined he'll be on our backs for weeks."
A sudden silence fell onto the small group.
"Hey, Ran, dude, the hose is running!"
Ran snorted and opened his eyes drowsily. He glanced down at the length of plastic tubing in his hand. "Aha," he said quietly. "Could someone turn that off?"
Ken raised his hand. "That would be me," he said, and skipped off to the back.
The water slowed. Ran stared at it until the dripping stopped. "I have to go to the bathroom," he said finally, inching his way toward the stairs.
"So it's just us then," Yoji grinned, wrapping his arm around Omi's neck. "We can divide up the girls evenly."
The bell on the door rang with astonishing alacrity.
"Like this one," he continued, adjusting his sunglasses and lighting up a cigarette.
The customer moved into view from around a tall shelf of lucky bamboo. It WAS a girl, but the most rectangular member of the opposite sex Omi had ever seen. Her hair was a harsh bleached-gold, cut short so that her bangs hung over her eyes, which were either black or a very dark brown. She opened her mouth to say something.
"How old are you?" asked Yoji suddenly. She shut her mouth and stared at him.
"Fifteen," she answered, in a voice that was a bit too low and raspy for her body. She sounded a bit like she had been eating gravel. "I need some help. My mom's birthday is tomorrow, and my father, in his infinite wisdom, has given my ten dollars to buy a bouqet for her. Do you have anything that's pretty and yet still affordable?"
Yoji nudged Omi in the small of the back. "This one's yours, kid," he leered. "She's jailbait for me."
Omi scowled but walked forward anyway, and the girl grinned uncertainly. "Hi," she said, pointing at his nametag, "Omi. Nice to meet you. I'm Maryoko."
"Hi, Maryoko," Omi replied, leading her absent-mindedly over to the large cooler in the corner. He opened the sliding glass door. "Do you have anything in mind?"
"Azaleas* are nice," Maryoko said thoughtfully, biting her bottom lip in a way that would have been cute on a smaller girl. "She likes Day Lilies**."
"We've got some Day Lilies," Omi said, running a hand through his hair. "But we're fresh out of azaleas."
"Azaleas are popular flowers?" she asked, arching her slightly overgrown eyebrows.
Omi chortled. "You'd be surprised," he responded. "We see practically everything in here. We sell dozens of Venus Flytraps a week, for one."
"You're kidding," Maryoko gasped, stifling a snort of laughter. "A cheap substitution for pest control."
"Not cheap, actually," Omi said, straining to reach a vase of azaleas that a long-armed SOMEONE (he though dirty thoughts about his fellow coworkers) had stuffed far in the back. "The stupid things are incredibly slow and you have to buy tons to make much of a difference. We see a lot of the same people."
"I would imagine so," she answered back, wincing as he struggled. "Do you need a hand?"
"Or three," he grunted, waggling his fingers at the taunting vase.
"I only have two," she said, maneuvering herself into the small space that wasn't occupied by either Omi or the door, "but I'll see what I can do."
One (increasingly complicated) brief skirmish later...
"I've got it!" Maryoko cried, flourishing the small vase like the Holy Grail.
"You suck!" Omi pouted, scrabbling for a hold on the slick metal shelves.
There was a moment of silence. "I'm also STUCK," Maryoko said slowly.
Omi jiggled his leg. "As am I," he replied, trying to get his foot out of a bucket of roses.
"I'm getting cold," Maryoko said after a while.
"Aha. Me too. This comes from being in a giant refrigerator."
There was another period of silence.
"Look!" Omi groaned. "Yoji is flirting! FLIRTING! And at a time like this! Doesn't he SEE us?"
"He sees HER," Maryoko said darkly, leaning back against the wall.
Omi stared at her. Her arms were crossed over her chest in the traditional "This-isn't-fair" stance taken up by girls everywhere, but her eyes were averted slightly, almost sadly. She didn't look like the kind of girl who would care, but she was JEALOUS! Jealous of what, though?
"Are you okay?" he asked tentatively.
"I'm FINE," she spat, waving a hand harshly.
"We've got time," Omi said after a moment. "It'll take loverboy out there a while to notice us in here."
Maryoko bit her lower lip again, glaring out through the glass. "I'm never noticed, you know that?" she said quietly after a moment. "You'd think that someone as big as me would attract SOME kind of attention, but I'm invisible, like that guy on fifth and main."
"There's a guy on fifth and main?"
"See?" she said, her voice rising in pitch. "Invisible! No one sees me long enough to care."
"-I- saw you," Omi said defensively.
"You were helping me in a store," she said dismissively. "That doesn't count. You'd get fired if you didn't stay with me."
"Actually, I probably wouldn't..." Omi said slowly, remembering that one time that Ran would have been dead, only...
"Oh, yes you would," Maryoko said darkly. "It's happened before, you know. My dad says I just don't assert myself enough. People find it easy to ignore me because I make myself ignorable."
Omi looked at her. She was normal. She had normal things to worry about, guys and parents and peer pressure. She didn't have to worry about whether or not she would be alive tomorrow, or wonder if she could kill one more person...
The door opened, and they fell out. Ken stared down at them.
"How many times do I have to tell you, Omi," he said, somehow keeping his face straight. "Don't shag random customers in the refrigerator. It's bad for business."
Omi and Maryoko looked at each other. She opened her mouth. "Yes, you have my permission to castrate him," Omi said, heaving himself up on his elbows.
"I was GOING to ask if I could knee him," she retorted, "but I like your idea better. Got any pruning shears?"
"Oh, haha, very funny, I'm laughing like hell deep down, etcetera etcetera, get back to work, Omi," Ken said, walking away.
"Got a sense of humor like a wire coat hanger, doesn't he?" Maryoko commented as Omi rang up her hard-earned purchase.
"Wire? Nah," Omi shot back. "Wooden, maybe."
"Harhar," she said. "Wooden coat hangers are old fashioned." She paused. "Was he wearing goggles on his head?"
"YES," Omi replied, handing her the frost-bitten vase. "And does so constantly. I wouldn't be surprised if he wore them in BED."
"Goggles are not quite as old-fashioned as wooden coat hangers," Maryoko said sternly, bouncing the fragile glass from one palm to the other. "But more old-fashioned than Day Lilies."
They both stared at the flowers.
"Day Lilies have been around for a while," Omi said slowly.
"Not THESE lilies," she mumbled sullenly. "But anyway, I have to go. My dad is probably wondering where I am."
"Um, right," Omi said.
The bell on the door rang as forlornly as a jolly string of jinglebells could as she swung the door open and closed. Omi watched her go, the first real person he had ever met.
He stopped. That was a strange thought to think. Real? He saw real people everyday, with their real clothes and real cars and real problems.
But Maryoko... she was much more tangible, as though she was somehow MORE REAL. Other girls came to the flower shop in search of Ran's phone number, but she had come in search of a birthday present. She had come... because she was real. She was the most abnormally normal person he had ever met.
Omi watched her go, the last real person he would ever meet.
_____________________
*The Chinese symbol of Womanhood
**The Chinese symbol of Motherhood