She glanced around, double-checking she was alone, before cautiously approaching. She picked up the flower, twirling it between her fingers as she sat down. Hesitantly, she brought it to her nose and inhaled, a deep, exaggerated breath, but there was nothing—no scent, no feeling, no nothing at all. Nothing new. Nothing different. Just . . . nothing. It was merely a simple flower, the kind that rambunctiously grew on the stretches of land that man hadn't touched yet.

"Michael," she whispered to herself, half expecting him to appear as she called his name, but he didn't. The air remained static, the playground deserted. She sat there for a while, appreciating the peaceful silence, before banishing herself to the Heavens when the town came alive for the day.

Serah stayed busy over the next few days, immersing herself in extra work. "Micromanaging," Samuel had called it. The only other angel she encountered was Hannah, who appeared a few times on the schoolyard.

Although there was still no sign of Michael as the time passed, reminders of him sprung up everywhere. It seemed every corner Serah turned—everywhere she went—another flower would be laying in her path, a hint of radiant beauty and color amid the monotonous bustle of day-to-day life.

Clutching a yellow flower she'd stumbled upon on the Lauer's front doorstep, Serah apparated to the field in Heaven. The moment she arrived, she detected Michael's strong presence. Her eyes darted around, finding him a few yards away, knee-deep in the luscious grass, his face tilted toward the cloudless sky.

He turned slowly, sensing her. "Serah."

"Hello, Michael."

"I didn't expect to see you," he said. "I thought you were avoiding me."

"I was," she admitted.

"But not anymore?"

She shook her head. "Not anymore."

"I’m glad," he said. "I've heard from the Dominion that you haven't been to the gates in over a week—not since the day of our disagreement."

"Yeah," she muttered. "Turns out you were right about him."

"Of course I was."

A sigh escaped Serah's lips as she gazed at the flower. "Thank you, by the way."

"You needn't thank me for warning you."

"I wasn't," she said. "I was thanking you for the flowers."

Michael's brow furrowed. "Which flowers?"

Genuine confusion marked his expression. He had no idea what she was talking about.

"I believe your friend Hannah deserves more gratitude than me," he said when she didn’t explain. "The Virtues oversee nature."

"Yeah." Serah dropped the flower with a frown. They hadn’t come from him? "I suppose you're right."

Michael stepped closer, his immense body towering over her small frame. Wrapping his arms around her tightly, engulfing her in a hug, he kissed the top of her head. "I'm always right, Serah. You shouldn't sound so surprised."

Serah tried to seek comfort in his arms, but like with the flower, she felt not a thing. Arms that once brought solace now conveyed emptiness. They were together, touching, embracing; yet, something stood in their way. A wedge had been created, a mass of misunderstanding, laced with unanswered questions.

What was happening?

Serah pulled back from Michael and forced a smile upon her lips. "I should really be going."

"Stay with me."

She slowly hook her head, ignoring the tempting voice in her mind that shouted, "Stay with him!" "I shouldn't. I really can't."

Michael begrudgingly loosened his hold on her, softly, chastely pressing a kiss upon her forehead. "Next time, then."

Serah returned to the playground in Chorizon, startling a form lurking in the shadows. It was well after nightfall, approaching midnight, the only thing thicker than the natural darkness that of malevolence in the air.

The loitering demon turned toward her. His black eyes flickered as a quiet defensive growl vibrated his chest. Serah stared into the bottomless pits of his eyes before her attention drifted to his clenched fist. Instinctively, the creature opened his hand, a stalk of pinkish-purple flowers falling to the ground. The blooms were small, each with four petals, combining together to make a miniature bush.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "Why are you here?"

"I'm whomever I want to be." A smug smile twisted his lips as he ran his hands down his face, admiring the body he'd possessed. "I kind of like this suit, though. I think I'll keep it for a while."

"You'll do no such thing."

"Who's gonna stop me?" he asked. "You?"

An answer came from Serah in the form of Latin as she tackled the man and pinned him down, the exorcism incantation flying from her lips. The demon fought viciously before finally erupting in laughter, conceding. He knew he couldn't win. Fighting was senseless. "He said you were a fiery one."

The body convulsed, the demon expelled in a burst of light, as the man's heartbeat kicked in again. Serah stared at him, her hand still pressed against his chest, as his words ran through her head.

He said you were a fiery one.

A groan of aggravation tore from her as she snatched up the discarded flowers and headed straight for Hell.

Her feet stomped heatedly against the sediment toward the last gate, holding up the stalk, not waiting for him to appear before addressing him. "It was you? Really? You?"

A moment of silence passed before he briskly appeared in a crack of thunder. "Excuse me?"