Chrysanthemum: Chrysanthemum

Two months had passed since Sora had left Hollow Bastion. Two months had passed since the sun began to once again brighten the dreary streets and allies. Two months had passed since Leon, Cid, and the others began the Restoration Committee to clean up the once beautiful world.

Two months had passed, and to Aerith, it felt like two years.

Ever since Sora had left, her life had become utterly mundane. At least when the boy was around, she could talk to him, tell him stories and listen to his problems. And that kid had a shit load of problems. There really wasn't anything for her around Hollow Bastion; an occasional worker my get injured some how, and she'd be there to fix him up, and that was the extent of her part on the Restoration Committee.

At least she had her gardens. Aerith found that the soil around the Great Maw was ideal for flowers, and had set to make herself a quaint little garden of assorted flora. It was an isolated area that gathered just enough sunlight, but was surrounded by a cliff side to shield it from harsh elements.

Flowers flourished under Aerith's care. She had always loved plants and discovered at an early age that they seemed to grow faster and larger when she tended to them. It was most likely just her imagination, but a small part of her liked to pretend that she had a bond with plants, a sort of magical kinship.

Today was an exceptionally boring day. The Committee was ahead of schedule, so Leon had ordered all the workers to take the day off. Yuffie was wandering around the town with Tifa and Cid, as usual, was at his computer. The last Aerith saw of Cloud, he had been in the gummi garage, the place he kept Fenrir, speaking with Leon. Aerith had been about to join them, but when Cloud spotted her, he blushed, grabbed Leon's arm, and fled into an empty gummi ship. A little confused, Aerith had figured they needed to be alone for some reason and made her way to her gardens.

“I wish something interesting would happen to me…” she murmured to the chrysanthemum bud she was carefully watering.

The flower just wilted a little.

---

A quick flick of his wrist, and a dark portal was summoned to take him away.

Marluxia was tired of the…well, drama that had been recently unfolding within the Organization. It all started when Roxas, that insufferable little twit, joined as the thirteenth member. Before that brat had arrived, they had been perfectly sane. Now Roxas was constantly distracting Axel from everything, because apparently the man is a pedophile, which in turn upset Demyx, because the whiney little one-more had an Axel-complex, which inevitably pissed off Xigbar, because apparently that man has some sort of mullet fetish, which caused Xaldin to become bitchy for God knows why. Luxord went absolutely time paradox-happy after Xaldin decided to shred his playing cards, which some how resulted in an experiment exploding in Vexen's face, causing him to bitch out the nearest person, which happened to be Zexion, who was already brooding about nothing in particular. Lexaeus, of course, had to come to the rescue, and that was just about to end very badly for Vexen when Saix stepped in went werewolf on every one's asses. Needless to say, this brought the Superior into the picture, as he was very upset that Lexaeus had gouged two nasty cuts into his precious “right-hand man's” face. After that, Number XI had decided that he'd really rather not wait around for Larxene to show up, seeing as she was just naturally bitchy, and had promptly left without permission.

Marluxia scoffed. Why was every single man in the Organization, save himself, homosexual? What were the odds of that? The Assassin vaguely wondered if becoming a Nobody had anything to do with it, but quickly pushed that though away as he strongly reminded himself that he wasn't gay.

Which was ironic, really. He had pink, feathery hair and his element was flower for fuck's sake, and yet he, Marluxia, was straight.

“I wish something different would happen to me….” he sighed in his deep voice, glancing at a wilted chrysanthemum bud ahead of him

The flower rose up a little.

---

The minutes ticked by slowly as they stared at each other.

Aerith stood slowly, almost as though she was afraid any sudden movement might scare her visitor away. Who was this man…?

Marluxia smirked darkly, almost as though he had concocted an ingenious plan as he eyed the woman before him. Who was this girl…?

“Your chrysanthemum is wilting…” he stated as he stepped closer. Close enough to smell the intoxicating mixture of his favorite blossoms on her clothes, in her hair.

“…yeah,” was all she could manage. This man…he reminded her of a chrysanthemum.

Dirt shifted as Marluxia took one more step forward and leaned down, brushing his gloved hand across Aerith's soft cheek and burying his face in her hair. Aerith leaned her face up, mauve tresses tickling her nose. They inhaled in unison, and Aerith found herself placing a hand on his chest.

“…you smell like flowers.” Deep tenor mixed with airy soprano.

How…interesting, she thought.

How…different, he thought.

The chrysanthemum bloomed.

FIN