hobbies

“Miss Cedar?”

That tone and formality was only used when Yarrow was around strangers or was uncomfortable with what he was about to say to his former-boss-turned-mother-figure. It made Cedar curiously look up from the tome of a book she’d been absorbed in for the past hour. Yarrow had been spending that time doing homework quietly at the kitchen table, but now he stood stiffly not far away from her window perch.

“Yes, my dear?” Cedar asked as she snapped the book shut. It made Yarrow startle, so she was much more gentle as she set it down on the window sill.

“What do you do for fun?”

Yarrow was nervous asking. Cedar had never been mean to him in his life, but her regality and wisdom made her seem like the sort of person who shouldn’t be bothered to answer something so mundane. His overly polite manners were very hardwired into him. Cedar didn’t seem to mind though, with a sort of amused smirk at her lips.

“Mmm… is this about that ‘hobby’ thing you and Moss keep going on about?”

“Moss suggested it." It was kind of embarrassing how they kept gushing about all the ideas they had to anyone that would listen. "I am... having a difficult time getting used to life up here. Moss thought I should try some new things.”

Cedar hummed in understanding. Out of everyone that escaped the underground with Agent 4, the two of them were the ones having the hardest time adjusting. As staunch upholders of militaristic Octarian tradition, they’re the most out of touch with the carefree and indulgent pace of Inkopolis.

The older octoling pondered the question, turning to her growing bookshelf. “I’m enjoying reading all the new books available to me now. I spend much of my free time at bookstores or the library. But you aren’t the sort of person to sit still for knowledge that you could learn from experience, right?”

That was Cedar’s nice way of saying she’d seen his literature grades.

“I don’t especially like to read, no.” Yarrow tried not to sound dejected.

Cedar stood from her perch, now towering over Yarrow. Her hair ornaments chimed as they shifted over her shoulders. He instinctually stood at attention, even if she was giving him a sweet smile.
“I’ve been spending a lot of time in the community garden. Since the twins and Clover are out today, why don’t you go with me to see how my sprouts are doing?”

…

Yarrow and Cedar made the short walk from their apartment building down the street to a modest community garden. He still felt strange seeing someone he regarded so highly now dressed down in baggy clothes and a sunhat on her way to a glorified patch of dirt. He thought it was too severe of a downgrade from her old embroidered kimonos and her garden that would put any greenhouse to shame. Surely she deserved something better, right?

“Miss Cedar?”

“It’s just ‘Cedar’, Yarrow.”

He flustered slightly at the correction. “Cedar?”

“Yes, dear?"

"D-Do you miss the garden dome?" It was another question he felt he was overstepping by asking, but she didn’t seem to mind the first one. “You inherited it, right? You spent your life caring for it.”

She looked a little melancholy at that. It was another thing he wasn’t used to — his former boss no longer needing a façade of complete emotional stability to display her strength to those that would challenge her.

"I do, yes, but I'm still very proud of it. There is a special kind of pride you feel when you've spent a lot time cultivating something to the point where you can be confident it'll continue to be strong even when you aren't around."

There was a cryptic sort of tone Cedar used whenever she used one sentence to say multiple things. Yarrow learned to recognize it, but he wasn’t always the best at reading between the lines. He could guess that she might be talking about her kids she sent away to fend for themselves in Inkopolis while she stayed underground.

"I see.” He replied simply. It was hard to respond to her sometimes, but he really did like listening to her.

The rest of their walk was spent in comfortable silence until they came upon the garden. There wasn’t a whole lot of impressive foliage during autumn, but Yarrow couldn’t help but tap on the pumpkins and gourds that sprouted up from vines along the ground just to hear the satisfying hollow sound. Vegetables weren’t something they ever grew in the garden dome.

Cedar didn’t have anything to harvest this season given how recently they’d moved in, but she was planning for the year ahead. In a small plot to the back of the garden, she’d sowed starters for napa cabbage, endive, and rutabaga. Things they might have some trouble finding in a typical grocery store, but could add some variety to both of their vegetarian diets.

The thought of having some new things to eat in a few months made Yarrow hungry, but Cedar put him to work helping her tend to her sprouts. He pulled up weeds while she watered the plants and checked the pH of the soil. Yarrow didn’t hate the work, but it was sort of mindless to follow instructions for something that just required his hands and minimal attention. Pruning bushes and trimming grass was something he’d done with her plenty of times in the old garden, but the feeling of the sun on his skin while he did this was certainly new.

It didn’t take too long to tend to Cedar’s starter patch, but she took him around to check in on the neighboring gardens too. They both agreed that pulling a few stray weeds for someone else was only the polite thing to do. Most of the neighbors’ gardens seemed to be deep rooted. Lattices sat in them with vines having already made themselves at home in their nooks. Others had small bushes that must’ve taken years to grow. Only one looked similar to Cedar’s; she lead Yarrow to it and stood by it proudly.

“This patch of dirt was tilled but unused, so I decided to plant some daffodils here. They remind me of some people that I love.” 

The gears turned in Yarrow’s brain for a moment before he hesitantly pointed to himself. While him and his sister were named for different flowers, they were both ‘suisen’s.

“That’s right. You’re one of them.” Yarrow couldn’t help but smile softly. Cedar gave him a grin in return. “Do you know what daffodils mean symbolically?”

He shook his head. Being knowledgeable about symbolism never struck him as important, but he had noticed that the huge book Cedar was absorbed in lately was about the language of flowers. If he wasn’t going to read it himself, she at least was more than happy to dump all her new information onto him.

“Most people believe it embodies narcissism. One name for it comes from a legend of a handsome man falling in love with his reflection in a pool of water. He was punished by a goddess for breaking the hearts of women, and he drowned in the pool. Afterwards, daffodils sprouted along the edges of the water.” Despite the kind of grim story, Cedar seemed to enjoy it.

Yarrow's mouth twisted into a confused pout. “Are you trying to teach me a lesson with this? Because I don’t think I will be breaking the hearts of women. You might need to talk to Clover, though. She’s the one that gets into romantic trouble.”

The older octoling made a sound in the back of her throat as if she was trying to hold in a laugh. “No, no! ...I just thought it was interesting. That’s just one story about daffodils. Other meanings are chivalry, good fortune, and rebirth.”

Those meanings were more pleasant. Yarrow could relate easily to being chivalrous. That was practically encoded into his being. Good fortune would be nice considering he was always running out of money. Rebirth… that didn’t sound like a bad thing.

“Does yarrow have any special meaning?” His eyes were wide with curiosity, and Cedar looked very pleased about it.

“I’m glad you asked.” Obviously she’d studied up most on the names of her family. “Yarrow is known as the ‘warrior’s wort’ since it can be used to treat damage on the battlefield. A warrior named Achilles is the most famous for using it. Some believe that it increases fibroblasts in the body, which repairs wounds.”

Yarrow always thought that being named after a flower seemed kind of delicate, but being named after the warrior’s flower was a different story. “I like that one.”

“I thought you might.” Cedar smirked smugly. “It’s also known as a magical herb. People used it to try to summon harm as well as keep it away. It’s a charm for both war and healing. Others have used it for love spells since it’s associated with an old goddess of love and desire."

Another one having to do with love — he was a little put out by the thought, but he supposed he’d rather be associated with positive love than heartbreaking. “I didn’t know that flowers could be so… multi-talented.”

“You’re becoming rather multi-talented yourself since we moved here. I enjoyed the painting you did of the dome.” Yarrow blushed at the compliment. He’d tried not to look at where Cedar put his painting on her bookshelf the other day. “Did you like gardening?”

Did he? It was a familiar and easy thing to do, but it didn’t really excite him in the way indulging in martial arts or ink battle did. “I… don’t dislike it?”

If Cedar was disappointed to not have enthusiastic gardening company, she didn’t let it show. “I suppose that’s the first step to eventually liking something. The hard labor for faraway pay off isn’t for everyone.” She shrugged and slung her bag over her shoulder before motioning for Yarrow to follow her back to the street.

The walk home was just as uneventful as before. He kicked a rock down the pavement while Cedar just basked in the waning sunlight. It did give him time to think, though. He did have a nice time with Cedar, but he realized that it was mostly because of one thing.

“Does the cedar tree have a special meaning?” It was because he liked hearing someone he admired so much talk about something they enjoyed wholeheartedly.

Cedar couldn’t help the warm smile that graced her face. “I’m glad you asked that as well.”