This was written as a spare for my sister in a trade over at LunaEscence, but I really thought I'd share it with this community as well. For some reason, I really enjoy writing for Fragile. Hopefully, the rest of the community will enjoy my contributions!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fragile Dreams, or any of the related-nor do I own the snippets of lyrics. Fragile belongs, respectively, to Namco Bandai Games and Tri-Crescendo. The lyrics are, as far as I am aware, the respective property of Jimmy Eat World.

I never said thank you for that
I thought I might get one more chance

Alone, a man worked late into the night. He was clad in a white lab coat, as any other scientist in the building had previously been, but now he stood in the old laboratory alone. Not a soul in sight. After the launch of Glass Cage, everyone had gone home and deserted the place in order to spend the rest of the time they had left with their families. Except, there was a young scientist and his assistant who had wandered off to the lunch room to enjoy their last coffee together. Why a faulty project had commenced in the first place was beyond the young botanist, but he continued to work on all alone.

His dark hair was shaggy, messy, and it fell into his face, forcing him to rapidly blink his sleepy eyes to shoo it away with long lashes. Lifting his glasses to his forehead, the man rubbed his groggy eyes in an attempt to keep himself awake. Before him, a flower bloomed. In the late evening darkness of the underground facility, the flower had a warm red glow, like a candle, and it lit up the room brilliantly. But the room wasn't the only thing warmed by the light's soft glow. It was a deep red glow that warmed his heart and brought a flush of memories back to the young botanist.

He had stayed alone in the lab because he had nowhere else to return to, no family to go back to and no one outside of the facility waiting to see him. In his small, single bedroom apartment, he didn't even have a cat to keep him company. All he had were his plants, and his studies. And all of his plants, the only ones that seemed to matter to him anymore as his time on Earth slowly dwindled, were with him in the room right then, before him on the lab bench. And its leaves were so shiny and glossy, while the flower hung like a bell. Its beauty and its passion resounded in his heart, just like the sound of the finest tuned church bells.

But it was a lonely sound because the one who had made his dreams a reality, even if it was only for a little while, was not at his side. That girl from his past, the girl who gave meaning to his childhood and brought to life his dreams of studying botany. For her, he created this beautiful flower so that it could light up the stage of her young dreams. A prima ballerina, that was her goal, so she could grace the stage before millions doing what she loved the most. But he... he who dreamed of fulfilling her dreams, he who's passion was making her dreams reality had robbed her of her future, of her mobility, of her dreams.

And because of that, he would never forgive himself. He realized, only years later, that her being wheelchair bound was his own fault because of those stupid, stupid mushrooms. And it was because of those stupid mushrooms that he missed her recital, that he tore their long-standing friendship into pieces. Their dreams were shattered on her doorstep that evening all because he was so caught up in making her dream, that picture of a ballerina dancing in a field of glowing flowers, a reality. As he watched the dimly flickering red glow become a soft and gentle blue light in the darkness of the facility, he breathed a soft, hopeless sigh.

In his last moments of life, trying desperately and failing miserably to keep himself from falling asleep, to keep himself from the inevitable, he looked at that flower with remorse. Why didn't he just return back home? Why didn't he give her a call, write her a letter, visit her every now and again? Why had he let her go alone, probably hating him and doubting what was left of their friendship? Why did he spend so much time running from his problems when the end was so close, rather than just going back and fixing his mistakes? In those last moments, he remembered his promise to return back someday to see her. It was a promise which he had not been able to keep out of shame and guilt for that small event so many years ago.

Maybe if he had, things wouldn't have ended up this way. Maybe then, she would have known about his feelings. Maybe then, she would have had the chance to forgive him. Maybe then, he wouldn't have to die alone in the desolate and decrepit facility that proved to be the only place he knew as home. Maybe then he wouldn't have to die alone, only wishing he could feel her warmth beside him one last time. But that was a lot of maybes, and as death ticked closer and closer, these maybes would never become realities.

In his mind, fleeting images and sounds swirled in the haziness that overcame him. That sweet giggle, those bright and determined eyes that always held so much passion for everything they did. Her gentle touch with soft, delicate fingers. The light weight of her head on his shoulder as she fell asleep under the apple tree in her backyard while he read. She was everything beautiful in this world to him, she was his most precious flower.

For Akane, his first and only love, Mao spent his whole life creating this beautiful lantern blossom, the flower of her dreams, that he'd never have the luxury of presenting to her.

I never said thank you for that
And now I'll never have a chance