Tzuyu pulled her door shut, sighing as she began her daily stroll around the block. It was early; only a quarter of the sun peeked above the rooftops, casting a dim hue over the houses, the type where everything was a mix of shadow and light. The air was frosty and the only movement came from the occasional car passing through. Tzuyu cherished these walks. Something about the quiescence of dawn cosseted her in a cloak of comfort. And then cozy thoughts would make their presence, providing sweet sensations like those felt with the first sip of hot chocolate.

Making her way around a corner, Tzuyu’s gaze locked on the vivid garden two houses down, lush with an array of flowers. Quickly, Tzuyu approached it. She frowned when she arrived, statue-still, until a flash of purple caught her eyes. Relenting, just like every other day, Tzuyu pulled out the pair of shears in her pocket and picked a purple flower, running off until she was out of Garden House’s sight.

She stared at the procured flower, all too familiar with its pigment and fashion of how the petals fell. A scoff found its way out , and Tzuyu was shaking her head, simultaneously scolding and questioning her moral alignment. By now, she’s probably stolen over thirty flowers (not that it was noticeable). Still, she chastised. A beat passed, and then came the reminder of why she did this in the first place. It’s not like her choice of flower was random.

Every day, she selected an iris—Mina’s favorite flower. And every day, after she finished her morning stroll, she’d drive the grueling hour it took to reach Mina.

Today was no different. By 6:30 am, Tzuyu was another occasional car passing through, the iris set gently on the passenger seat. And off she went, leaving her quaint town to visit the love of her life.

Tzuyu walked up to Mina, smiling. Before anything else, she placed today’s flower in the small vase, removing yesterday’s and discarding it to her side. A chaste kiss was planted, and Tzuyu settled herself down, wrapping her arms around her knees, huddled into a ball.

“Hey, Mina.” Tzuyu chuckled.

Mina was never one to talk, and Tzuyu found it somewhat comical. And like her mornings, she also found it comfortable, basking in their mutual ocean of silence instead of forcing conversation.

Come to think of it, maybe Mina was the reason she started her morning walks in the first place. Because it reminds me of you. Tzuyu froze at her sudden epiphany, snapping out of her trance after realizing Mina was right in front of her. She rubbed her nape, embarrassed.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” She sighed. Aiming to change the topic, Tzuyu switched her position, spreading her legs out. “The weather’s been cold lately. It’s actually nice, though, because you like the cold.”

As if on cue, a gust of wind swirled past, and instinctively, Tzuyu flung her coat off her shoulders and around Mina.

Chaffingly, Tzuyu continued, “But even though you like the cold, you always end up sick because you never wear a jacket. Which reminds me…” Tzuyu reached into her bag and unleashed two containers, followed up by two cups. “It’s funny. You like food too, but you always skip breakfast, then go on to complain about how hungry you are by lunch.”

Opening the lids, the containers revealed steaming fried rice; uncapping the top, the bottles revealed tea. Tzuyu shook her head. “A baffling specimen you are, Myoui Mina. Anyway, eat up!”

And together, Tzuyu spent the rest of the morning eating and chatting with Mina. But as nice as their time was, parting was eventual—and it was always the worst for Tzuyu. Cleaning up the leftovers, she retrieved her coat and picked up yesterday’s flower. After everything was tidy, she leaned in for a goodbye kiss. “I love you, Mina,” she whispered. “See you tomorrow.”

 As far as routines went, Tzuyu’s was probably the most rigid. Down to the minute, and daresay, even the second, her mornings were perpetually unchanging.

Wake up.

Take a stroll.

(Steal a flower.)

Meet Mina.

And as far as meetings went, theirs were probably the most silent. Tzuyu would initiate small talk and reminisce on some good times, but for the bulk of it, it was just her and Mina alone, quiet. Because while everyone else relies on conversations to sustain interest, they were the opposite. Simply being together was more than enough—for the both of them—and the innate tranquil character present in each was what sparked that initial liking.

So, in honor of how their infatuation blossomed into love, Tzuyu preferred to keep mum most of the time, cherishing the simple serenity of it all. And in the midst of a morning breeze, a pretty flower, and Mina, Tzuyu couldn’t be more at peace.

However, as the laws of nature write, everything permanent must be ruined. And in Tzuyu’s case, as time told, after a month and a half of stealing flowers every day, her perfect morning regimen was disturbed.

She woke up thirty minutes late that morning, at 6:15 am. No big deal, she thought. Continuing as she normally would, she was out of the house by 6:45 for her walk.

The sun was higher now, brighter. Cars drove by more frequently, and a couple people scattered the sidewalks: some jogging, some walking dogs, and some strolling. It was a little noisier too. Tzuyu wasn’t used to this, but she quickly grew accustomed to the shift in ambiance.

Around the corner and there was the familiar garden, as lively as ever. Although it was later than usual, there weren’t any people present, and Tzuyu sighed, unsheathing her shear as she made her way forward. She stopped and searched for another iris, quickly spotting the purple. Raising her arm, she held the stem with her left hand as the blades met, snapping the flower off.

“What are you doing?!” A scream sounded, and heavy footsteps followed.

Tzuyu darted her eyes up and watched as a woman ran from the door towards her. The woman snatched the flower from her grasp and stared at Tzuyu, icy eyes burning with disbelief.

The only thing Tzuyu could croak out was a meek “I’m sorry,” and the air stilled in silence after.

The woman huffed. “Care to explain why you’re chopping up my flowers?”

Tzuyu decided coming clean would be the best; the damage was already done. She mustered up some courage and confessed, “I- I’ve been stealing flowers for my girlfriend from you for almost two months.” Ashamed, Tzuyu’s eyes fell down, missing the quirk that played on the woman’s lips. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

Softly, the woman spoke, “Well, you should know better than to-”

“I know.”

“-cut the stem horizontally.”

“What?”

The woman wagged her finger, face void of annoyance, then pointed at the flower stem. It was flat. Taking the pair of shears from a speechless Tzuyu, the woman picked out another iris and cut the stem at an angle, giving it to Tzuyu to observe.

“If you want the flower to last longer, cut it like that,” the woman explained, her tone light.

“Y- You... Aren’t you mad?” Tzuyu asked. “I’ve been stealing from you every day.”

“Sweetie, I have hundreds of flowers here.” The woman laughed. “If anything, I’m mad that you’ve been cutting them wrong.”

“I don’t get it.” Tzuyu furrowed her eyebrows. “Why aren’t you mad?”

The woman smiled, lifting up the iris in her hand to her nose. “Well, I was shocked at first. But when you said that you were giving these to your girlfriend, that’s just too cute for me to be mad about.”

Tzuyu was about to speak, but the woman continued.

“However, as a price for these flowers,” she smirked and Tzuyu held her breath, “you have to take me to meet your girlfriend.”

Her eyes popped and her voice caught. Out of all the propositions, Tzuyu did not expect that. “I’m sorry, but-”

“Ah ah.” The woman shook her head. “No ‘buts.’”

“It’s a really long drive-”

The woman had none of it and shoved her finger to Tzuyu’s lips. “We’re going now. I’m Sana, by the way.”

Realizing she had no way out, Tzuyu bit her lip. “Okay, then. Sana, I’m Tzuyu. My house is just around the corner. I’ll come back in ten minutes.”

Tzuyu returned as promised, albeit reluctantly, and unlocked the door for Sana. The iris was stashed on the dashboard and the food set on the back seats, to leave room for the extra passenger. As the drive began, Sana settled herself comfortably.

“It’s about an hour drive.”

They passed four traffic lights until Sana glanced at Tzuyu. “Tell me about her.”

Tzuyu visibly stiffened, avoiding the request. “A- Are you sure you want to come? We can still turn back.”

Sana pouted. “Why don’t you want me to come? Is it that much of a hassle?”

They met a red light and Tzuyu braked. She could’ve lied and answered yes, but a glint of iris purple instilled an uncomfortable guilt in her stomach. Hitting the gas, Tzuyu snuck a peek over and was met with Sana’s sincere gaze. The brighter glint in Sana’s hazel eyes acted as a final push in convincing her otherwise.

Prolonged silence rendered Sana antsy and regretful for coercing Tzuyu into bringing her along. She was about to ask her to turn around, but Tzuyu cut her off with a wistful smile.

“Her name is Mina. She’s been my best friend since middle school, and I’ve never loved anyone more than I love her.”

Sana beamed as Tzuyu naturally continued.

“She’s super quiet, and you’d think she’s just shy, but she’s really just a dork in secret. Once she opened up to me, she was still quiet, but the way she acted as if she didn’t have a care in the world,” Tzuyu paused, letting a ragged breath leave her lips. “When she laughed like she was the happiest person in the world, I knew I was in love.”

Tzuyu’s eyes became crescents as she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, nearly forgetting Sana was there until she spoke up, startling her.

“Why the iris?” Sana asked as she played with the petals.

It was a genuine question, but Tzuyu was struggling to answer, eventually mumbling a weak, “It was Mina’s favorite.”

Sana hummed back, seemingly satisfied with her reply. “Tell me more. What’s her favorite color? Favorite food? Things like that. I want to make a good first impression.”

Tzuyu flinched at the last remark, but chuckled nonetheless. “She’d like you no matter what.” Sana glared and Tzuyu sighed. “Do you really want to know?”

Sana nodded adamantly. “Yes.”

“Well, Mina likes the darker colors more, like purple-”

“Like the iris.”

Tzuyu looked over. “Yeah, like the iris. She really likes sweets too. Chocolate, ice cream, things like that. Actually, now that I think about it, half of our dates were just trips to get ice cream.” A laugh escaped, and Sana laughed with her.

Another round of silence.

“So how’d you meet? Tell me your whole story.”

Tzuyu’s lips tightened into a line. “It’s a long one. Are you sure?”

“And it’s a long ride,” Sana came back. “I’m sure.” She closed her eyes to envision the story.

“Well, we were middle school seat partners, and even though we never talked, there was this unspoken bond between us. Eventually, we were forced to work together on projects, and it turned out she was a really fun person. Our friendship just… bloomed from there, I guess. Then in high school I realized I had feelings-”

A snore interrupted her, and Tzuyu was shocked to see Sana fast asleep, her head tilted back and wide open. The comical sight prompted a sigh from her, and the rest of the drive was spent in silence (with the occasional grunt from Sana).

“Sana.” A nudge.

“Sana, wake up.” Another nudge.

“We’re here, wake up.”

“Huh? What?” Sana’s eyes fluttered open to reveal soft sunlight filtered through tall trees. “Where are we?” She looked over to Tzuyu, whose hand was still slightly shaking her shoulder.

“We’re here to meet Mina.”

“Does she live in the woods?” A quick look outside the window and all Sana perceived was the green of nature.

“Let’s go.” Was all Tzuyu said, grabbing the iris and the bag of food in the back.
 

Three steps from the car was all it took to answer Sana’s question.

“Oh…” she trailed off.

Tzuyu didn’t reply, her gaze stern as she advanced on the trail. Sana followed some distance behind, her eyes glued to Tzuyu’s shoes.

It didn’t take too long to reach Mina, perhaps five minutes. Tzuyu replaced yesterday’s iris with the one Sana picked today before turning around to face Sana.

“Sana, meet Mina.” Tzuyu’s eyes locked with Sana’s while her arm pointed at the grave in front of them.

She was speechless. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Sana hung her head even lower.

“It’s okay. I didn’t tell you.”

Sana bit her lip. “How long has it been?”

“Almost two months.”

Her head whipped up. “Two months? Isn’t that-”

“Yeah. I started stealing your flowers two months ago.” Tzuyu fell to her knees, brushing the grass between her fingers. “I’m still sorry about that, by the way. I shouldn’t have stolen from you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Sana sat down beside Tzuyu. “I couldn’t care less about that.”

No one talked for a full minute, Sana out of respect, Tzuyu out of daze.

“Do you mind if I ask how?” Sana stared at the tomb, the words “Myoui Mina” carved in bold. “How she, you know…went?”

“Drunk driver. It was the middle of the day too,” Tzuyu scoffed, rubbing her face as tears threatened to fall.

“I’m- I’m really sorry Tzuyu. I can go back to the car if you want me to.” Sana made her way to stand up, but Tzuyu’s grip caught her wrist.

“Stay, please.” She took out the containers of food. “Let’s have breakfast together.”

Sana couldn’t refuse and gratefully grabbed a pair of chopsticks.

Tzuyu let out a long sigh. “The first week was hell,” she suddenly admitted. “I couldn’t stop crying, I couldn’t even bring myself to come here.”

She paused and Sana was uncomfortably still, unsure if she should talk or stay quiet.

“But then I would remember the way Mina smiled. I take a morning stroll every day, and then I passed by your house and saw a bunch of irises. I thought of Mina, and out of nowhere, I ripped one from the ground and drove here for the first time. And that’s how it started.”

Sana still hadn’t spoken, and Tzuyu looked over at her.

“I’m fine now, Sana. And you can talk.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Sana muttered.

Tzuyu set her food aside and placed her hand on Sana’s leg. “How about I finish my story? You fell asleep in the middle of it.”

Sana smiled. “I’d love to hear it.”

A smile and a deep breath. “As I was saying, it was in high school I realized I had feelings…”

Clouds rolled by and strips of wind flew by every now and then. The breeze was refreshing, and so was Tzuyu’s smile, so bright, it almost convinced Sana that everything was okay. And maybe it was, because the way she described Mina and their love, like everything was normal, it unknowingly brought a smile to Sana’s face too.

That day, Tzuyu stayed a little longer, recounting her days and memories of Mina to a near stranger. It was cathartic, the release of all the good times to a willing ear. By the end of all the anecdotes, Tzuyu had never felt more alive, more free.

The sun was exceptionally hot by now, and the beads of sweat dripping from both of their foreheads was indication enough that it was time to head back. Tzuyu picked up yesterday’s iris and walked Sana to the car. During the drive, there was only silence. When they stopped in front of Sana’s house, Tzuyu reached for Sana’s hand before she could exit.

“Would- Can we do this again? I know it’s a lot to ask, but this is the best I’ve felt since… since Mina.” Tzuyu looked with hopeful eyes.

Sana smiled. “Anytime, Tzuyu. I’ll be right here.”

A/N: the way my stories flow and the overall way they finish is quite awkward and i'm not proud of it but i'll keep writing to improve :)

side note: Tzuyu is a passerby when she takes her morning strolls, which is how she came across Sana's garden

Mina is also a passerby to Tzuyu, as presented through her death

Mina's death is also another example as to how "as nature writes, everything permanent must be ruined" (it ruined her and Tzuyu's relationship)