A long time ago, there was a small village built along a stream. It was the beginning of spring in the village, and the flowers and other such plants were having a hard time waking up from their long winter's sleep. This was true for all places in the village except one. Around one of the smaller houses in the village, flowers were already in full bloom, their vibrant colors shocking all of the people who walked by. The sole inhabitant of this house was a young girl named Fuuka. Fuuka was a small, quiet girl; she looked as if a strong gust of wind could easily blow her away. She had very pale skin, even though she spent most of her time outside, light brown eyes, and white hair. Fuuka didn't have any friends in the village; everyone thought that her white hair and quiet mannerisms were unnerving. Because she didn't have any friends, Fuuka spent all of her free time working in her garden.
Everyone in the village felt that it was a very strange garden. Flowers and plants flourished in it, no matter the season. It always made her house seem cheery and inviting, but no one wished to interpret it in that way. The villagers felt that anything beautiful coming from such a strange person must come about in an evil way. The village elders came together and decided that something had to be done. They decided to call upon Akihiko, a boy about Fuuka's age.
"Akihiko," said the oldest and wisest of the village elders, "you must befriend young Fuuka and find out what dark magic is at work in her garden. Tomorrow you will spend the day with her and unravel the mysteries surrounding her."
Akihiko, who had always felt bad for the fragile-looking girl, solemnly nodded his head in acceptance.
The next day, Akihiko walked over to Fuuka's house, not at all surprised to see her already at work in her garden. He walked up to the edge of her garden and cleared his throat loudly. Fuuka turned towards him, a smudge of dirt across her forehead and her eyes wide with shock. Akihiko realized that he must be the first person to ever come and visit her.
"Hi," he said when it was clear that she wasn't going to be the first to talk. "My name is Akihiko."
"Hello," she replied cautiously. Fuuka already knew who Akihiko was; she had often admired him from afar. She was so shocked that he would come and visit her, that the only thing that she could think of to say to him was, "What are you doing here?" A furious blush lit up her face as soon as the words left her mouth, but he just smiled and laughed.
"I wanted to see your garden close up." he said, "I've always admired the plants that grow in it." And what he had to say was true. When walking through the village, Akihiko often paused to marvel at the beauty that was Fuuka's garden.
"Oh," said Fuuka, surprised. "I always thought that everyone hated my garden.
"Not at all," Akihiko replied, "I've often wondered how you keep your garden so beautiful and full of life. It seems like no matter what time of year it is, you always have some kind of plant flourishing in this little place."
"I could show you how I take care of my plants, if you would like," Fuuka said shyly.
Akihiko, who had all but forgotten the reason that he had come to her house, quickly accepted the offer, happy that he would be able to satisfy his own curiosity along with the curiosity of the village elders. As Fuuka walked him back to the area of the garden she was working on earlier that morning, he was surprised to realize that he enjoyed spending time with this kind girl. He no longer thought of her as a strange outcast, but as a friend. He knelt in the dirt next to her as she got the plot in her garden ready for planting. Akihiko watched as Fuuka carefully dug a small hole, taking care to make it very smooth, and dropped a single seed in it. She gently covered the seed with the dirt from the hole and gave it some water. Then she turned to Akihiko.
"The trick, you see," Fuuka explained, "is that you need to treat the plants as if they were people. Make sure that the seed's homes are nice and cozy, and treat them gently. But most importantly, you need to care for them. Talk to them like you would talk to your best friend. This makes the seed want to grow into a beautiful plant."
Fuuka turned away from Akihiko and began talking to the area in which the seed now slept in the earth. He watched, amazed, as a small green seedling grew out of the ground and leaned towards Fuuka, as if the plant wanted to join the conversation. After about ten minutes, a beautiful pink flower took the place of the young seed.
"Wow," breathed Akihiko, "That was amazing!"
"Would you like to try?" Fuuka asked with a smile.
"Oh, no, I couldn't," he replied. "I wouldn't want to risk messing up this beautiful garden.
"Well, if you won't try now, promise me something," Fuuka said.
"Sure, what do you want?" Akihiko asked.
"Promise me that sometime soon you will come to my garden and talk to the plants," she said. "I'm sure that they would enjoy hearing a new voice every once in a while."
"I can do that, sure." Akihiko replied, smiling.
"It's getting late, I need to go inside now," Fuuka said, glancing at the quickly setting sun. "Will I see you again soon?"
"Sure you will, Fuuka. Friends see each other all the time." he said, turning to leave. "Goodbye."
Fuuka walked into her house, feeling happier than she could ever remember. She had a friend, a real friend.
The next day around noon, Akihiko went to the village elders to report his findings.
"There is no need to fear Fuuka," he explained. "She does not use magic of any sort in her garden or her life."
"Then how are the plants growing so quickly?" one of the elders asked.
"She talks to the plants, and they grow quicker," Akihiko said.
"Speaking to plants causes them to grow? This must be some kind of dark magic, how could you not see, you foolish boy?"
"No, really," Akihiko said, "it's not magic. It's just…"
"Something must be done!" exclaimed one of the elders.
"We cannot let a danger like this remain in the village!" said another.
"Silence!" said the oldest and wisest of the village elders. "We cannot let a witch live in our village. Therefore, we must kill her to prevent any further witchcraft!"
"No!" exclaimed Akihiko. "Please don't! She's just a harmless girl! She's not a witch."
"Quiet, boy," said the oldest and wisest elder. "We shall assemble the villagers and hunt her down at sunset, and that is final."
Akihiko watched, horrified, as the villagers came together to hunt down Fuuka, thoroughly convinced that she was a witch. The villagers grabbed their weapons and, upon the orders of the elders, began their march to her house. They found Fuuka in the middle of her garden, the front of her dress covered in dirt. As she turned around, Akihiko could clearly see the surprise and dread on her face.
"You, girl," said one of the elders, "you have been accused of witchcraft. Do you admit to being a witch?"
"What?" Fuuka asked, confused. She spotted Akihiko in the crowd and asked him, "What's going on here?"
Before he could respond, the oldest and wisest village elder said, "Silence! We know that you are a witch! Your witchcraft shall not be allowed to continue in this village!"
As if this were some kind of signal, all of the weapon-carrying villagers swarmed into her garden and attacked.
"No!" Akihiko cried, his cries of despair mingling with her screams of agony.
"Enough!" the oldest and wisest elder cried. "She is no more. The witch is dead; the village is safe once again! But now, we must bury the witch. Bury her under her garden so that no more of her evil can escape into our world!"
The villagers dug up Fuuka's beautiful garden, ripping out the flowers that she had cared for so deeply. They thrust her broken body, still bleeding, into the crude grave, smothering it with the dirt. Cheering, happy that they had killed the evil witch, all of the villagers left the garden. All of them, that is, except for Akihiko.
Tears silently streaming down his face, he mourned the loss of his newest, and truest, friend. He fell to the ground next to the garden, despair filling his body.
"Fuuka, please forgive me," he begged. "I didn't know that they would do this to you, I didn't mean for anything bad to happen! You were my friend; I didn't want to lose you!" Akihiko sat next to Fuuka's grave, silently begging forgiveness until fatigue won his body over and he fell asleep.
The next morning, Akihiko woke with a start. Even in sleep, he had not been able to escape Fuuka's death. He turned solemnly to her grave, and noticed something strange. Over the top of her grave, several beautiful, white flowers grew. The color reminded him of Fuuka's hair. The only explanation that he could come up with was that this was just like what Fuuka did with the flowers. Fuuka was the seed, and since Akihiko spoke to her all night, she had grown. Akihiko carefully picked one of the beautiful, delicate white flowers, feeling curious. The flower was indeed beautiful, but something about it made Akihiko gasp. The roots of this beautiful flower were dripping with blood.
"This is no ordinary flower," he said. "This flower comes from an extraordinary source, and deserves an extraordinary name. This flower shall be known as the bloodroot, beautiful, yet costly."