[A/N] I think I might work on scenes like these/background stuff for a bit. Being honest, I think I might need the slightest bit of a break from the main LDOD story so that I can get my bearings straight and my ducks in a row, but I want to still be writing SOMETHING, soooo... fluffy AU, pls and thank you.

Yuu

I remember the way we met as though it was yesterday. Of all places for a poet and a shoemaker to meet, I wouldn't have expected it to be an elevator in a doctor's office. But hey, life is funny like that.

We both walked in at around the same time: I needed to go to the fourth floor, she pressed the button for the third. There was this look in her eyes like she was just exploding with energy and enthusiasm, and I found myself immediately suspicious. Lady, you're just going to the doctor's, what is going on in your head? Then she spoke. "How are you today?"

"Uh, fine. Do I know you?"

"Do you?" she answered enigmatically.

"What's your name?" I asked, wondering if maybe she was someone from high school or if we had a class together in university.

"I am Sayuri Asai, but I've always wondered... Why do we assign such value to names? Aren't they a mere string of phonemes? And sure, we use them to identify ourselves amongst other people, but why is it that some people like their names and others dislike them? Why do we attach so much meaning to them, that we grow uncomfortable if we feel it no longer suits us? Is this a question of linguistics, psychology, or both?" she rambled. In the process, we both managed to miss our floors.

"I-- what? Wait, I do know that name. I see it around in the bookstore now and then. You're that major poet prodigy, aren't you?"

"So you DO know me, then?" she pointed out. Before I even knew what she was doing, she'd hit every button higher than floor four, effectively trapping us both in there.

"What the--?! Why?!" I yelled, slightly panicked.

"What is YOUR name, then?"

Part of me considered giving her a fake name, because this woman intimidated the hell out of me. But hey, fuck it. "Yuu Bando."

"Do you like your name?"

"I guess. I've never really thought about it, being honest."

"What DO you think about?" Her lilac eyes were piercing, intense, as though she was trying to peer into my goddamn soul.

I was fucking BAFFLED. "Shoes, puns, and the rapid collapse of my sanity." That's the short answer, at least.

She giggled. "Well, at least two of those things are desirable, right?"

"Which one is undesirable, the loss of sanity or the puns?" I quipped automatically.

She laughed even harder, which made me smile despite myself. "Well, I suppose that depends on who you're asking, right? Frankly, I think all three could be desirable. Who needs sanity anyway?"

"You're a poet, you don't need it in much the same way us non-creatives need it."

"Do you not consider yourself the creative type? You ARE a shoemaker, are you not?"

"Sure, it's craftsmanship, but also a lot of math and attention to detail and perfectionism. It doesn't warrant the same freedom as poetry."

"Do you want it to?"

"I'm rather content to stick to my routines and happy organized existence."

"Then, why are you losing your sanity?" she interrogated.

"Look, lady, just cause I'm content with my life doesn't mean that anyone else is. Makes it rough maintaining friendships."

"Then are you yourself truly content at all? Though, frankly, am I one to be speaking of contentment when I am much the same way?"

The last button dinged and I hit the fourth floor button again before she could get me stuck any longer. "I guess I'm not completely content, then. Who is?"

"Is anyone?" she responded, understanding where I was going with that.

The door opened. I held it. And for some reason that even I didn't really understand... I gave her my email address before leaving.

...

And that's how I'm here today. Oh God. Through the years, emails turned to phone calls, phone calls turned to friendly hangouts, and it only took me attending one book signing for us to wind up dating somehow.

She's been my girlfriend for three and a half years and I have now bought a fucking ring and holy shit I'm going to die.

Sayuri has always dreamed of whirlwind romance and true love, but the problem with that is that she fell for a guy who isn't good at that. I can provide her other greatest need, that being fascinating conversation, but grand gestures? Yikes.

Maybe I can go to that florist... her name is Hachi, if I remember correctly. She's somewhat eccentric, but then, I'm trying to propose to one of the most eccentric people I've ever met. Flowers aren't much, but it's a start, right? So, spurred on by determination, I make my way over there.

Ever-spacey, Hachi is zoning out, probably far out in her own little world, so I ring the bell. "It's kind of funny how many flavors go with chocolate. It's like a universal— I mean, how can I help you today? Oh! I remember you. You're the one with the pink-haired girlfriend. How long has she had it dyed that way?"

"She first dyed it when she was twelve. But anyway, about her... Hachi, I'm trying to propose."

"Oh, I see. So you'll need red roses... and a lot of them. If you need tips, I've heard that a good way to do this sort of thing is by scattering rose petals to make a heart. Maybe do it at her favorite place."

"Thanks, Hachi," I say, genuinely grateful for the advice even if she seems a bit detached.

...

"Are you nervous? When was the last time you were nervous around me?" she asks.

"More recent than you'd expect, actually," I admit.

"Why? It's just a nice picnic by the lake, right?"

"Yep. I'm just worried that the weather might go bad. It looks kind of cloudy," I lie.

"But they don't look like rain clouds, right? Besides, getting wet wouldn't be too bad, would it?"

"It'd be fine." For us, anyway. Maybe not the setup that Nari helped me with. "Let's just hurry a bit. Sorry, I don't mean to rush you. You know how I get."

She takes my hand into hers, interlocking our fingers. "I am happy just to be with you, my love." God. I am putty in this girl's hand. "Hmm? What is that, off in the distance? Do you see it?"

"I can't see anything," I fib once again, though I'm sure my sweaty palms are betraying me right now. I pull her along, praying beyond belief that things go well.

"Aww, a heart around our picnic blanket? Did you do this? When did you have the time?"

"Uh, yeah, this is for you. Um... Oh, God. Fuck it, I can't keep this up anymore, so I'm just gonna..." I get down on one knee. She gasps. "Sayuri, I'm not the prince in shining armor that you've always wanted, or that you deserve, but I can promise that I'll always do my best for you. I'm always one to just say things the way they are, so here's the truth: you make me happy, and even if there will be times where we drive each other crazy, I want to be with you my whole life. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?"

"Is this real? Am I dreaming? Can you pinch me?" She offers out her arm, crying. I pinch her gently, and she squeals, becoming an incomprehensible mess but nodding her head so that I understand. I slip the ring on her finger, and then she dives into me, tackling me to the ground with a hug and peppering me with kisses.

Yep. This is my fiancé. Holy shit. This is my fiancé.