Chapter 16: [Ch. 16] A Thorny White Rose

(Author's note: this part is from no one's perspective)

...Present day...

A delicate white rose slowly drifted down, floating delicately towards the road already littered with petals. It was the only flower brave enough to soar towards a ruthless and intimidating man riding on a black horse.

This man was none other than Prince Raylon of the Pheonix nation. A man who is considered a great hero for his work killing the dead and saving innocent lives. However, he was a man no one could offend lest they wanted to lose their hands.

His sharp eyes glared at the flower innocently floating towards him. His scar deepened hideously as a fire was ignited behind his dark eyes.

His hand reached for the flower so quickly, no one saw him even move. In the next instant, the flower was smashed in his iron tight grip. He had not caught the flower to return the affection of the one who threw it. Instead, he caught it prepared to slaughter them instead.

His eyes turned up to find the foolish person who was brave, or stupid, enough to have thrown it. His pupils shook, full of killing intent. His eyes met with an androgenous beauty capable of bringing armies to their knees from their grace alone.

His murderous aura raged as he realized it wasn't even a naive woman, but a frivolous man who had thrown the flower to him instead.

The androgenous man in question met his eyes without fear. On his much-too-alluring face was a faint smile mixed with nostalgia and bittersweet emotions. The smile curved his peach blossom eyes upwards.

However, there was no light behind those delicate, drooping eyes. It was as if the life had long since died out leaving behind only a shell of who they once were.

But who would dare look at the Great Hero Raylon with such an expression?

Instead of jumping to the roof to kill the man, Raylon merely glared instead. He had no idea why he didn't leap up there in order to teach him a lesson. It's not like he hasn't done such a thing before. So why wouldn't he do it now? Why is he only watching as if something important was about to happen?

The androgynous beauty casually turned around and walked away, not even concerned that his back was to a cold-blooded murderer.

Raylon's vicious eyes turned to the man's companions. The cloaked person had already rushed after the man and their face couldn't be seen. However, Raylon's eyes met a pale Hatsuyo's.

Hatsuyo flinched and ran after the other two as if he was running from his imminent death.

Kuro noticed Raylon's murderous aura and clicked his tongue. He pulled his horse over so that he could stand next to Raylon's. His expression was calm, but his voice gave away his irritation, "Just ignore it. Don't repeat what happened last time."

Raylon sneered silently as he continued to stare at the now empty spot on the rooftop.

He took note of the person who had thrown the flower and vowed to find him later in order to determine the meaning behind the look. He didn't answer Kuro as he clicked his tongue to get his horse to continue. As his horse slowly walked, Raylon's snake-like eyes slowly narrowed. He opened his fist, revealing a thorny white rose crushed in his palm.

A droplet of crimson blood slowly started to get larger.

…

(Author's note: This part is now from Moao/Mo Zao's perspective.)

My steps felt lighter and my chest felt fuzzy. I didn't stop smiling as I hummed to myself.

He's alive...

He's alive!

He lived!

He actually survived!!

But how did he survive? When I last saw him I was sure that I…

My hand trembled and I grasped it firmly to stop the tremors. I frowned at my hand as it still continued to shake unimpeded by my firm grip. Sylvia appeared behind me, "Mo…"

I didn't bother looking at her as I felt complex feelings begin to stir. I hissed out in a low voice, "You knew?"

"I…"

I closed my eyes as I took a deep breath. I can't deal with her at the moment.

I heard footsteps rushing towards us and tossed Sylvia a look, "We will talk about this later."

Hatsuyo finally caught up to us. He was clearly out of breath as he tried his best to look normal. His voice squeaked anxiously, "What were you thinking?!"

I turned to him expressionlessly, "You said people throw flowers."

"Yeah! But not to- to HIM!"

"Mmn."

My interest was fading in the conversation as my mind was still on Raylon.

Sylvia jumped in hurriedly, "Maybe we should discuss this somewhere else?"

Hatsuyo shut his mouth instantly and looked around. After that spectacle, everyone was staring and watching us as if we were criminals being marched to be hanged. Hatsuyo cleared his throat, agreeing quickly. "Let's return to the inn for a meal. Then we can discuss THAT."

We soon returned to the inn and were shown into a private room for our meal. As soon as the tea was placed in front of us and the waiters left, Hatsuyo started shouting. "What were you thinking?!"

I blew on the tea calmly, "What do you mean?"

"Why would you give HIM a flower!? AND WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD YOU GIVE HIM THAT KIND OF FLOWER OF ALL THE ONES YOU COULD HAVE THROWN!?"

I frowned at his loud voice, "What exactly is the problem?"

"That flower was a white rose!"

"Mmn?"

Hatsuyo was rendered speechless by my apathetic look. He shook his head, "Do you even know what that flower symbolizes?"

I shook my head weakly. I didn't really care what it had meant. When I had looked through the flowers, my eye caught the sight of a white rose.

Towards the end of my life as Moao, I had been associated with the color white since I had worn a white and silver yukata that had been gifted to me. It wasn't that white had been my favorite color, but rather that my eyes were always attracted to it.

Thus, when I saw that white rose I grabbed it and tossed it without another thought. I didn't care if Raylon had recognized me at that moment.

I was only happy to know he was still alive.

I didn't care if I gave myself away nor if I died from my reckless decision. However, I doubt he knew it was me. If he had, there was no way he would have let me walk away.

We were still enemies in the end.

Hatsuyo explained even though I drank my tea uninterested in the explanation, "The white flower is the rarest one you can find at the festival. There is only one in the thousands of barrels they bring out just for the parade. Years have passed and no one has ever been lucky, or unlucky, enough to have thrown it out."

Sylvia was curious after hearing this, "What does it mean? Marriage?"

He shook his head gravely, "It means much more than marriage. The rose signifies an everlasting love that transcends death. The thorns represent how much they are willing to be hurt by the other as well as how willing they are to kill for their beloved. The white color represents that the thrower is even willing to destroy the heavens if it is what the other wishes for. It isn't just a pure love, it's an obsessive one."

I took another sip from my tea, "Oh."