In The Conservatory

I do not own Meine Liebe or its characters, they belong to Yuki Kaori-san.

"You appear to be growing splendidly," Camus murmured as he sprinkled some fresh water over a single rose. "The colouring of your petals is very vibrant." He smiled as he heard words of gratitude and then shook his head. "No, it is not because of me, but because you have strived to be so beautiful." He heard more words from other flowers in the conservatory. "Yes, I am very pleased that all of you had desired to be so beautiful, because if you didn't, there was no possible way for me to help you." He heard even more gentle calls from the other side of the conservatory. He felt at peace.

Not everyone was able to speak with flowers as he did, nor did others understand that helped the flowers to grow, they all thought it was ridiculous. Well, all except his friends. His thoughts must've reached the flowers, because the next words he heard concerned his friends. "I will be certain to let them know."

He recalled one time some flowers felt troubled because Orpherus was in a bad mood after yet another confrontation with Ludwig. A smile graced his lips as he then recalled after he'd told Orpherus about the flowers' distress, his friend approached one nearby and apologised to it. It seemed as if a whisper from the flowers had also calmed Orpherus' heart because they did feel much more calm as well.

Music wafted into the conservatory, Eduard was playing the piano again. Camus heard every flower offer praise, he even heard some start to sing along to the tune.

It was late evening when Camus returned that he heard whispers of distress. He made his way to where the flowers directed him and saw one daffodil he'd become fond of, as he did all of his beloved flowers, his children. The flower was dead. Camus gently placed a finger on the petals, careful not to break them off with just his touch. He leaned down to it and whispered tenderly, "I thank you for having graced this conservatory, no this academy, with your presence. I am pleased I was able to see your petals had become such a vibrant yellow that you outmatched the sun."

He moved to get a small shovel and carefully dug it out of the soil, roots and all. He lay the shovel down and held the flower in two hands. He gazed upon it sadly. He knew flowers didn't ever live very long, even so, he loved all of the flowers he took care of, the death of each flower brought sorrow to his heart. He knelt down near a small pile and tenderly placed the flower on top. The pile was to be burned, but not in a cruel manner, it was as if the flowers were being cremated in his mind.

The next morning, though there was still some sorrow among the flowers, and the one who tended to them, each flower whispered that they would become even more vibrant than they were. Camus heard those whispers and nodded. "I promise I shall help you all to achieve that."