"Shizuru Viola?" When the name was called a an amber haired woman stood and approached the nurse who had called her. She was tall, fair-skinned and gorgeous, when she walked she carried with her a certain enviable grace. Her eyes, however, were sunken and dark, as if one could see into the depths of the void through her face. "The doctor will see you now."

Shizuru walked slowly down the carpeted hallway, at once dreading the telling of her story, but also thrilled at finally sharing it with another person. I've held onto this for so long, maybe now I'll be able to let it go. She placed her hand on the doorknob to the office and froze, fear set upon her like a hungry wolf, rending her insides and leaving a cold feeling behind it. I can't let it go, I promised.

Footsteps approached and the voice of the nurse filled her head, "Is something wrong, Ms. Viola?"

Shizuru took her hand off the knob and faced the young woman. "I'm about to go into this office and tell someone that I've never met a story that I've never told anyone and not because I want to. Tell me, if you had held on to something for twenty years, would you be so willing to give it up?"

"I don't know why you're here, but I know that I've seen a lot of people come in here with some serious problems and they all leave a bit happier. I know that if you give it a chance, that you will too."

Her smile disarmed Shizuru, all the malice she had poured onto the girl now seemed childish and absurd. She nodded gracefully and opened the door to the office. She was immediately assaulted by the smell of pine, and as she stepped into the office she knew the reason. The entire room seemed to be carved from a pine tree, from the bookshelves to the coffee table, from the odd carvings that sat upon pine shelves to the legs on the curved seat, all the way to the big desk that dominated the room and behind it sat a dark-haired man with a bald spot and beard. He stood and held out his large hand to her, "Ms. Viola, I'm doctor Alfonse Heinrich, but you can call me Al. It's nice to meet you." Shizuru shook his hand and nodded her head politely, but wordlessly. "Please, have a seat." Shizuru took a seat in a chair across the desk from the man taking in the neatness and organization of the desk, no papers were out of place, pens sat in a rather classy pen holder and his freshly polished name plaquard, Dr. Alfonse S. Heinrich - Psychiatrist. "I'm to understand that you are not here of your free will. That you were brought here by a Mrs. Haruka Armitage, is that correct?"

Something in the tone of his voice, perhaps the timbre or the way he always seemed to speak down to her as if she were a child, made her want to punch him in the mouth. She resolved to do that to Haruka afterwards, "Yes, she is sitting in the waiting room right now."

The doctor flashed a smile at her, "I can imagine you are irate with her over bringing you here."

Shizuru returned a darker smile, "No, you can't imagine how irate I am."

The doctor's smile immediately faded, replaced by a look of stern warning, "Shizuru, may I call you Shizuru?" She nodded her assent, "Shizuru, this is a place of peace and healing, what neither of us needs right now is anger and hostility so, for the remainder of our session and any that may follow, please try to keep your temper in check."

Shizuru settled down, if it was one thing she knew it was acting polite when the rage hit. "My apologies, doctor, it won't happen again."

The smile again, "Nothing to apologize for. Now back to the matter at hand, would you like to explain to me why Mrs. Armitage thought it best to bring you to me?"

You mean aside from her being a meddling, gossipy bitch. "She didn't tell you anything? I assumed that you had helped set this up."

"She explained some things over the phone, but she was rather vague and I was hoping you could clarify some of it for me. It is my understanding that she found a certain letter addressed to you that caused her some distress. After that she searched your room and found boxes of similar letters and packages that seemed to warrant her bringing you here. What I can't understand is what was so disturbing about these letters that she would send you to a therapist?"

Shizuru exhaled her trepidation at revealing her secret, "The name on the letters was Natsuki Kuga, this is what disturbed Haruka."

The doctor looked curious, "Is this Natsuki a lover of yours?" Shizuru nodded, "So she was disturbed to find you are homosexual?"

Shizuru shook her head, "No, she's known this for a long time, as have I. No, she was disturbed because Natsuki Kuga is dead, she died on April 12, 1993 in a motorcycle accident."

"So she is worried that by keeping these correspondences that you haven't let go of the past?"

Shizuru shook her head, "The letter she found was from last week."

The doctor was speechless, when he spoke again it was with a stutter. "Did she misunderstand the sender, or misread the date?"

Shizuru shook her head, "No, I recieved a letter from Natsuki last week, twenty years after her death. Explain that one to me, doctor." She spat the last word with more venom than she intended, it's meaning was lost on the man who's mind was struggling to make sense of a universe that had suddenly turned upside down and left him hanging by a thin string.

"Perhaps you are writing them to yourself, a schizophrenic episode coupled with the trauma of losing someone you loved could have caused you to take on her mannerisms in such a way."

She leaned forward and stared into his eyes, "Do I seem like a schizophrenic to you?"

Her blood red eyes frightened him like a child watching a movie that made no sense to him, while the characters jumped around on the screen his mind struggled to understand the meaning behind it all. Finding nothing he cleared his throat, "You do seem rather lucid. So have you received these letters often?"

"There's no schedule to them," Shizuru leaned back into her chair, "they have been showing up randomly over the last twenty years. Only one day am I certain to receive something, and that is February the 14."

"Valentine's day?"

Shizuru nodded, "Yes, every Valentine's day I receive a bouquet of white roses with a card that always reads, I love you, Natsuki. At first I would cry when I received it, but over the years it became a welcome reminder of something that I can never forget."

The doctor pinched his temples in thought, "I don't understand, did she set the flowers up before she died? Did she have an arrangement with some flower delivery company to deliver to you a bouquet of white roses every Valentine's day?"

"Natsuki was poor, she wouldn't have been able to afford such a thing, and the roses are sent from different companies each time. It would be impossible for her to have set this up twenty years ago."

"No, that is improbable. What is impossible is your dead lover sending you letters and flowers every Valentine's day for the last twenty years. That is impossible, Ms. Viola." Shizuru merely shrugged and produced an envelope from her jacket pocket. She handed it to the doctor who studied it carefully. "I'll be damned, it's dated two weeks ago. Of course, anyone could have written this, could someone be pranking you Shizuru?"

Shizuru produced several more letters, all dated over the past twenty years and all written in the same flowing script that would be nearly impossible to forge. "Her handwriting was rather unique, she studied penmanship very diligently. These were written by her hand and her hand alone."

His mind reeled, he was out of rationalities and left only with the cold hard facts staring him in the face. However it was being done, Natsuki Kuga was sending Shizuru Viola messages from beyond the grave. "So, can you explain why this is happening? Shed some light on the situation."

Shizuru couldn't keep the smirk off her face, "You're the doctor, you tell me."

Al looked rather perplexed, "There must be something you can tell me, something that will explain this phenomena."

Shizuru sighed, "I've never told this story to anyone before, even Haruka only knows a little of the truth. I suppose I should start at the beginning."

Thanks for catching that error, it was not my intention.