The Youngest Hashira [REWORKING - REREAD DESCRIPTION]

Cars and Flowers

Cars and Flowers
The petals were bitter, far from sweet.

Kiyomaru Taakada, your average citizen in our modern world. A young man with flowery aspirations. The nature of this world enchanted his eyes, his brain, he loved the natural beauties of this world and wanted to preserve and spread this beauty as much as he could. And in doing so he fulfilled his childhood and life long dreams of opening up his own flower shop, that doubled as a hangout/coffee shop. He thought like both an aspirer and a businessman. Thinking the coffee would bring in more money while the flowers would be more like a passionate side job. Taking all angles into account, he did as he pleased with his life while also making sure he could live off of it.

He was never the most expressive or lively person in the world, but when he was working with flowers he just had this aura to him. The scent of fresh flowers, the feel of the greens in his hands. Nothing could ever make this man happier. To say flowers was his passion was an understatement. Flowers around him seemed to flourish and when he was in a bad mood they seemed to wilt. He most obviously had his life set and was happy where he was, that is, until he got this certain customer at his flower shop. They seemed quite obsessed with a specific story and since he was always in the shop they would rant to him about it. Talking about the various characters with interesting choices for hair and clothing design. They spoke about some with attraction or happiness while others were scowls and sneers. He actually found them somewhat amusing, but would never admit that fact.

His small society was perfectly formed, everyone has their place, everyone plays their role, and everyone lives happily. All happiness comes to an end though. Taakada's life was never perfect and he thought this was the world's way of repaying him, giving him the life he had always wanted while he was growing up. The world always has its way of slapping you straight in the balls and calling you a dumbass though.

Taakada was on a normal stroll that day, delivering a bouquet of flowers to his lovely mother's home. He did this every Thursday, each week was a different flowers. Roses, lilies, marigolds, lavender, any fresh flower he had that week. A specially made arrangement for his mom that he always delivered each week. This week was different though. Nobody is a stranger to the drunk drivers in our world and neither was Taakada. Walking along a small alley, Taakada was unaware that a car was barreling its way through said alley and straight towards him. Now usually cars driving within these alleys would go slow and look out for pedestrians, but people on substances, whether it be alcohol or drugs, weren't in their right minds. Especially not while behind the wheel either.

This car rammed straight into Taakada, his body was hit with a thump and the car stopped. Knocked down and underneath the car, the lovely bouquet he had arranged just that morning was trashed and ruined. The gorgeous blue lilies he used to arrange it were wilted and stained red with blood. Flower petals scattered as his blood did. His body was unmoving, the death was unavoidable, and he was barely at the turn into his mothers home. Thankfully, he didn't have to see the look on his mother's face when she walked outside to see the accident. The last thing Taakada felt was the natural taste of a certain flower inside his mouth and on his tongue. With his last breaths he shed tears, sadness overwhelmed the man, as he hadn't been able to deliver his mom her flowers that day.

640 words