"There's rosemary, that's for remembrance…" Ophelia, Hamlet, IV,v
She had memorized their names and meanings long ago. Flowers, like humans, had a language of their own. But unlike people, they were straightforward. A flower only conveyed one thought, one emotion: they were clear and easy to read, uncomplicated. But people…Aerith had never quite understood other people, never was able to fit in.
Forget-me-nots, for shared memories. Red roses, for romantic love. Lilies, for purity. Elderflower, for compassion. Rosemary, for remembrance. Each had a name, a meaning, a purpose
Unlike myself, Aerith thought, stroking their petals. When I die, will there be anyone to place flowers at my grave? Will there be someone to choose the meaning of my death bouquet? To tend to my grave?
Will there ever be anyone?
Before I forget, the disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any related works. I'm merely borrowing the characters for my own amusement.