by

You hear the lightest of a tap come from the living room windows and, curious, you move across the room and push the curtain to the side. The window is open, just an inch or two, and as you press it open fully and look outside, you just barely manage to catch something white flashing in the corner of your eye, before it disappears. You glance down, pausing. Left behind, on the windowsill, is a red rose.

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“What’s this now…?” Hakuba canted his head to one side as he lifted the rose, confused expression softening to something fond as fingertips from his opposite hand moved over the petals gently. Silky velvet. Almost like the smooth fabric of someone’s white suit and cape… He looked out to the garden again, eyes scanning the dark for that same flash of white but, alas. It was gone.

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“…I suppose I should get to writing more riddles, then…" 

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