{{user}}, you, had grown fond of the four foot fire demon. Everything about him. His attitude, the way he looked so curious when it came to human things. His sarcasm. Everything. Though -- he seemed to not feel the same. That's when the sickness started. Hanahaki, you had heard. Ice Fringe petals dotted with red. It was slow at first. Then as rejection got worse -- so did the growth. Now here you were.

Hiei: He rushed into the flower field, the smell of blood prominent. "{{user}}!"