I bet you either forgot about this, or just gave up any hope of it ever being updated! I'm truly, sincerely sorry. Life caught up, and I have to admit, I did forget about it. Odd thing, considering I have this folder on my desktop meaningfully named to remind me of its existence!

I got a request for some interaction between CR-S01 and Claire in the gardens. Let's get this started!

I think white is the colour of death.

It's a day like any other, except for once, the nurse finally decides to let Claire out to walk a bit. It`s really nice and dandy to carry herself lamely through the halls, but a breath of fresh air that isn't coming from the window wouldn't hurt. From where she is, the window doesn't overlook the garden, and she has no idea it even exists. After all, it really came in existence while she was bedbound in the walls that make up her room, and no one bothered to tell Claire there's a nice place she can exercise her legs in.

She does eventually find it; the sudden splash of colour is almost an eyesore compared to the dull greens and greys of the parking lot, and she has to rub her eyes a bit before regaining her composure. She walks along the path that winds between the flowery patches, taking time to look at each and every one of them. There are even helpful little signs at the forefront of each flowerbed that indicates the species, Latin name, and how to take care of them. It`s probably to help the gardener, though it does give her something to do. She eventually comes across a figure crouching on the floor. From the angle, she can only distinguish a hat, blouse and one gloved hand, and for a moment she thinks the other person is a woman; until she turns and Claire realises it`s indeed a he. Claire recognises his features, she's seen him walk past her room a few times, and now it comes back to her; that surgeon is the man whom Hank helped taking care of the garden. It makes sense she'd find him here.

"Oh! I'm sorry, am I bothering you?" she asks politely, even though she doesn't want to.

"No." comes the curt response.

Ah, so he doesn't like talking. Still, her short walk through the garden did make her realise something.

"Say, I was walking through the garden and I noticed, why aren't there any black flowers?"

"Because black flowers aren't actually black. They're dark blue, red, or purple most of the time."

"Oh, I see. Alright." And with that, she takes her leave.

Clair asks Hank to change room, to be moved to a room where she can see the garden. She knows he won't say no, and by the next day, a single bland wall is accentuated from the splash of colours the garden is. From there, the delicate smell of the flowers drifts to her nose, and she feels infinitely better, the scent like a balm on a festering wound.

She often sees the surgeon among the flowers, and it occurs to her he probably spends all of his free time there. Occasionally someone else walks on the path, but because everyone is so busy and has other things to do, he is the only one who can really care for the flowers. Hank is also there, sometimes, clipping branches from the taller trees, or assisting the younger man with carrying heavy materials. One day, while she leans on the windowsill to better admire how the flowers were planted, she sees the surgeon, and she waved tentatively. He looks confused for a moment, but he returns the gesture hesitantly. Claire doesn't know why, but it makes her happy.

When Claire once again makes her way around the garden, she finds the surgeon sitting on the path, just looking at a patch of white flowers. She wants to call out to him, but it occurs to her she has no idea what his name is. She approaches him and gently taps on his shoulder. He gives a startled jump and turns to her, eyes wide and surprised. She giggles a bit and apologises, before looking at the badges on which the doctor's name is written. "CR-S01"? That's right; Hank told her he was a convict, and instead of a name, he had a number assigned to him.

"So, uh, CR-S01, what are you doing there?"

"I'm looking at the flowers. Isn't it obvious?"

"I know that. But why?"

"I just like looking at them. Flowers are much better than some people. They don't care about who you are. They're not scared of you if you are a convict. Your name is Claire, am I right?"

"Yeah, how did you- oh. I guess Hank told you. Any reason why you spend so much time looking at the white flowers? You don't tend to them any more than you do to any other flower."

"Because white is a pretty colour- or tone, should I say. It's the colour of life, is it not?" he asks as if it were evident.

Claire looks down at her black summer dress. It's like he's trying to imply something.

"And yet, I think you're wrong, doctor."

"Is that so?" there's something in his voice, like a challenge, but not quite. He's curious.

"A dead person's skin turns white and translucent. Their eyes go white, dull, not only when they're dead, but when they're blind, when they've lost their function. Bones, too, are white, when the skin and flesh has been cleaned off them. And, tell me, what does the "white light at the end of the tunnel" represent?"

CR-S01 stays quiet for a while. She's right. They've both seen the same things. People strewn across the floor, their skin pale in fear of a bullet or dead from a disease. Trembling bodies, terror wracking them as they count their minutes, hold their breath, all in the hopes of not seeing the fated light illuminating the end of the dark tunnel. The white of the bones, from terrible, self-inflicted injuries or peeking from the muscle opened to mend them. The sights are much the same, even if they were from two completely different situations.

They speak a little, and then walk to the hospital before parting ways. The next day, as Claire is reading "Alice in Wonderland", one of her favourite books, she looks out the window to see the young surgeon carefully painting some of the white roses in black. What an odd sight that is.

I have no idea what I just wrote either, but it did sound better in my head. Oops!

I was SO EAGER to expose my knowledge of the botanic world by saying "HAH black flowers don't exist" but apparently petunias CAN be a true black, and that shatters me completely because I grew up with a lie.

As usual I can't promise anything, but really I'm trying and I'll do my best to write more. I have more free times now and less work to do.

As always, stay cool peeps, I love you! Feel free to send me requests, for any characters from the games!

Maybe I could start another series like this one, but with another series of book/game/anime/etc? Tell me what you think.