Wufei lay on the bed, thinking about flowers. Sugar and flowers. Kuso, he thought. Shimatta, why am I thinking of such things? He turned on the bed, rolled over onto his stomach, and gingerly plucked a red rose from the vase beside him.

A gift from the late Trieze Khushrenada...

Right before he died at the hands of Wufei.

Sighing, Wufei turned back over and stretched out, his back falling into the soft silk sheets like they were made to fit his body. Sugar...

He cradled the velvety crimson rose against his pale cheek, feeling its smoothness caress his face like a soft hand. Flowers...

A deep sigh escaped from his sleek throat, his lips aching for something he couldn't put his finger on. He hadn't felt this way since Meiran died.

And now he ached for something he vowed to have never wanted again.

Before he drifted into a dreamless sleep, he caught a mere glimpse of what it was he desperately needed to fulfill his passion, his desire, his long lost love for a woman.

A pale, delicate face. Gleaming, jet-black hair. Soft pink gently staining her cheeks, her lips like that of a rose...

A woman looking very much the way Chang Meiran did.

But her name was Metog Ke-ra...