• " You won't believe it! The garden bloomed and it's really nice! The children come to play here all the time, they're just great. I wish we were kids again, don't you? Then we'd be able to be friends like we are now, but much sooner! Hehe...
    I hope you're okay, and I better have a response from you soon! Because I miss you! I really do! Come see me again, the flowers you sent me look so nice.. "



    Aerith cringed, letting the brim of the letter crumple against her fingertips, letting her rear sit across the moist church seat. The flower girl sat there, her brownish hues hiding as her eyelashes sunk downwards, her eyes closed, breathing a heavy sigh.
    " I feel like something's wrong.. But I can't do much.. I just c-cant..." she frowned, smacking the floor with the hilt of her sandal,
    " I'm just so useless, it's unbearab--AH! W-Who's there?? "
    The girl slid off her seat and clamped her arms to her chest. The church door creaked, a woman about fair size and shape stepping into the fray, her high-heel shoes caressing the newly woken flowers to their short and broken misery.
    The orange-haired woman strove in wearing a rather fashionable Turk uniform, her hair wavy and yet still , her eyes a furious red, hidden only by her stern smile.
    The lady gave a scoff, landing the tip of her finger against her lips, smirking, " You're the specimen. My name is, well, not so much of your concern considering...well.. I might as well show you. " she grinned, pulling at the object behind her back, prompting it to push out her weapon of choice, a Shurken labeled "Rekka" on the side. The brilliant weapon glowed a warm shade of gold from the sunlight radiating against the church glass, slapping along the ground, the unknown guest pointing her finger accusingly at the girl who had no emotions to be described in words, but in her face; beautifully terrified.
    Aerith jumped, running as fast as possible near the back exit, only to be followed inevitably, hunted by the woman, and that odd weapon of hers that cut through the flowers as it dragged alongside her person. Tears sparkled along her dress, hopeless cries running through the hallway as she slammed the door leading outside open, panting uncontrollably, " Leave me alone! I don't know you! I don't.. j-just leave! " she slipped off into the corner, the letter to the EX-SOLDIER falling from her side pocket. Without noticing, she ran past the entrance to the Slums, sliding into an abandoned home.
    Her breaths shuddered, her mind drew images of painful events, and her heart hurt. But it wasn't for her safety, it was for the fact that she may not see the person who cared for her without even knowing her.
    " Zack.... I need you.. I-I need to gi..gi...Oh no, where is it!? "

    Meanwhile, the sound of talons stabbing along flesh ripped across the air, a rather old-looking Lazard falling to his knees, his heightened sense of smell detecting an aroma on the letter attached the the deceased Turk woman's hand. He took it in his palm and read it, sighing heavily, almost in distress, but no much so,
    " Not much strength I have left.. but enough to reach him, I must.. No choice.."
    His one wing waved along the air until he set off.

    Back in the home, the girl gulped, trying to hold back tears, holding her dear self as her head shook. Images of her unknowing love flashed and tore along her memories, events tracing back to their first meet pulsing at her every nerve.
    " I have to... go!!"
    She stepped up, darted outside, and ran back along the path she travelled, only to find the odd woman covered in dry blood, and the shurken that was supposed to bring about her death in pieces. Frightened, she still continued to look, the Ancient peering throughout every last location until night began to settle in, deciding to head home first and change, to perhaps be able to put on his ribbon, and head back to try to save the flowers.

    Hours later, the flower girl sighed, holding her posture close to herself, looking up for a moment at the the domed glass that closed her off from the world. For some odd reason, she wanted to cry, and after a while.. she just did..
    She cried.
    For him.
    Hands pressed up against her heart, her naive and yet loveable eyes hoping for the future that she would one day hope to see but not be able to get.

    She lives. He doesn't. But her memories of him are still there.
    Forever tied to her by something as simple as pink Ribbon.