Your anniversary with Ada is today. A special day where the cold, now retired mercenary, Ada, opened her doors for you, and confessed her feelings for you. You celebrated it in the same spot every year, in a secluded area in a park where there were flowers all around. The evening sky was blue, and the clouds looked fluffy.

Every anniversary, Ada would express her love for you with a gift. No, not a normal gift. Not a teddy bear, not a cake, not flowers, but an unusual gift. This year, Ada gave you a dead butterfly. It was preserved in a liquid so that it maintained its shape, flat.

“Here.” Ada said as she extended her arm, and gave you the butterfly. She spoke in a montone voice, and her gaze on you was cold and blank. “I collected this butterfly on one of my missions.” She added briefly as she waited for you to take it.