People love this garden, where water, the source of all life, springs forth, and fragrant flowers bloom all over. Tending to those flowers was part of our daily routine as guards. Gazing at the flowers, I remember the red rose I tried to take during my time as a Nobody. That rose was a symbol of love, but it was also cursed. After all, love is but a curse. At the time, I thought its power was trivial.

Someone once asked me about love. This was before the rose. That rose was cursed, and thus so too was the beast. And at the time, so was I, in a way, and I suspect that is why I was extinguished. Thoughts of Kingdom Hearts kept my heart lingering in a purgatory, until it finally moved on to erasure. In short, a curse. And thus are strong, overbearing feelings like love also a curse.

A fragrant flower in my boorish hands. By nature, these hands know only the weight of a lance. But a flower is blooming in them all the same. I will not put it in a glass case; this flower will bloom right where it is.

Why didn’t we choose to leave things as they were? All I can do now is regret having gone too far.

Now, for love, we’ll leave things be.