Edit #1 (7/30/18): Oh my gosh. I want to make a public apology to everyone who read this story so far. I was unaware of the formatting issue that plagued this chapter submission until now. I apologize for the inconvenience and hope it has not turned anyone off this story. This is what I get for releasing this over mobile, I suppose.


A long, long time ago in a land not unlike the Emerald Isles, there was a country known as Bláth. Bláth was a small and humble country, poor in wealth but rich in spirit. Bláth was filled with many people, who would greet the day and bright sun with great big smiles, breath in the clear air and laugh freely. It was a peaceful land. It was a good land.

And everyone was happy.

Bláth was a country of warmth and colors. Many of its fields stretched from end to end with flowers of every shape and size. There were daises and marigolds and petunias and roses and many, many more. Each day, children would play in the fields, skipping stones and jumping rope and whooping and hollering to the golden sun. Even on rainy days, when the precious sun was hidden by a curtain of clouds, they found occasion to play in the forests, playing hide-and-seek among the shadows and trees. They would open their arms to accept the rain, grateful for the life-giving rain to nourish their Flowers.

And everyone was happy.

Perhaps it was this happiness and love that made Bláth magical, because upon the breast of every man, woman, and child, there grew a flower. Everyone had a Flower Heart, where their strongest emotions and greatest desires laid plain and open for everyone to see. Men were valued for their devoted hearts of edelweiss and their ambitious hollylocks, and who could resist a charming jasmine? Women with sunflowers were adored, and everyone celebrated the eternal yarrow. There was no fear of lies or treachery here, for who could hide their Flower Heart from the eyes of the golden sun? Truly, there was no greater and safer land than the country of flowers, Bláth.

And everyone was happy.

In the country of Bláth, there was a little girl named Sucy. Little Sucy had a head of hyacinth, eyes of poppy, and teeth like rose thorns. She was discovered upon the doorstep of the Lotus Home for Wayward Children, cold and alone in this great, big world. She grew up in the orphanage, surrounded by children of lilac, chives, and basil. Oh, how the children of Lotus loved to laugh and play. Whether they played hop-scotch in the Yard out back, searched the Caillte Forest for the fairies of legends old, or waved forth their wands around and cast spells in the northern field, the children of Lotus were a merry bunch and ever hopeful to be adopted.

But no one ever wanted to play with little Sucy, lonely Sucy, creepy Sucy, for upon her chest was a Heart of Anemone. Wherever the little girl went, trouble seemed to follow on her heels, sprouting out like a poisonous fungus to suffocate and paralyze all who crossed her path. Everyone knew about the rumors, of how she bit the wet nurse until the skin broke and she drank in the blood; of how she collected horrid penny buns instead of good ol' dandelions; of how she stuffed oleanders under the pillows and sheets of other orphans. No one wanted to be little Sucy's friend in the warm Lotus Home, and deep inside her hollow chest, Sucy felt cold.

Alone in the Lotus Home, Sucy was not happy.

The only thing that ever brought a smile to Sucy's face were mushrooms and her potions. While the other children wasted their lives chasing figments and daydreams, she worked hard to craft potions of invisibility, of silence and secret-keeping, of sleep and death. She worked under the Bridge of Caillte Forest, next to the crossroads that connected the Lotus Home to the rest of Bláth. That bridge was Sucy's safe haven, the only place in the world where she was free to be herself. There, she could find peace in her solitude and joy in her only love.

Until one day, on her 10th birthday, an angel descended upon little Sucy.

Sucy never cared for birthdays. With so many children under its roof, the Lotus Home seemed to always be celebrating someone's birthday, blowing up obnoxious balloons and hanging painfully bright streamers for some dopey faced orphan. What was the point? Why did anyone care? No one ever came to Sucy's birthdays, so surely they weren't important.

So to escape from that waste of time, Sucy hid out by the Bridge of Caillte Forest, tucked away in the shadows by the riverside. She was counting her mushrooms when a tapping came on her shoulder.

"What? Who are–?" Sucy started to say, only for the words to die in her throat. Cloaked in the gleaming sunlight, a brown-haired angel smiled at Sucy, her eyes as vibrant as her Heart of Holly. Outstretched in one hand was a bouquet of purple foxglove, the half-wilted petals flaking off into the nearby river, dancing on the water.

"Here, for you! They match your pretty hair, don't you think?" The angel said. She bounced on the spot, flaking off more petals. "Happy birthday! Sorry for missing your awesome party, I shouldn't have overslept! I won't miss another one, I promise!"

The angel extended her other hand, whose skin was soft and pearly as lilies. "The name's Atsuko, but call me Akko! Nice to meet'cha!"

The pink-haired Sucy stared at the hand. She stared at the angel Akko, who was full of warmth and light. She took her hand. "Sucy."

On that day, Sucy decided birthdays might not be so bad.

Ever since then, her angel Akko was always by Sucy's side. They ate breakfast together, they attended classes together, and they slept in beds next to each other. The angel would blabber on for hours about Shiny Chrysanthemum and her dream to become just like her, and Sucy would experiment potions on her angelic guinea pig until her face went blue. Over time, Akko drew other orphans to her side like an extra noisy magnet of cheerfulness, but Akko always remained Sucy's angel and best friend.

Sure, they didn't always act like it: Sucy and her angel would argue and fight sometimes, but it was impossible to stay mad forever. Lotte, a friend to Akko, would always talk her down, and Sucy could never hate her angel. Whether the dumb angel came to Sucy, tears gushing from her eyes like waterfalls, Sucy would always open her arms and hug her wet angel. In moments like that, Sucy felt butterflies flutter in her chest, and she didn't know why.

Sucy felt these butterflies the most whenever the angelic Akko practiced her magic. The holly-hearted angel, as dumb as she was, spent hours each week trying to cast even the simplest of spells. The angel would flick her wand around, dancing circles in the Yard until her face turned red, desperate to get more than the pitiful emerald sparkles that trickled out. Often, the angel would throw her wand and stomp away in frustration, shouting that its broken or defective; sometimes she would sit down on the grass and cry, hurting Sucy's ears; but on one or two occasions, the angelic Akko would grow quiet and simply stare at nothing, as if none of it mattered at all. Whenever she saw Akko's face grow empty and cold like that, Sucy's chest would clench tight like a vice.

So, when the angel cast her first spell, no one felt more proud of her than Sucy. The way the brown-haired angel twirled and danced around the Yard, giggling as she waved a bouquet of pink wisteria in the air, made a rare smile crack on Sucy's face. Only her angel could get Sucy to smile like this: a smile small enough to not arouse the attention of this cold, indifferent world, but sincere all the same. It filled Sucy up with warmth she never knew before, and she had never been happier.

But even Sucy didn't expect it when her angel ran up to her, holding out the pink flowers.

"Sucy, look look! I made it, my very first spell!" the angel said, beaming like the sun.

Akko was only inches from Sucy's face, their noses almost touching, only a hairs breadth away. to... to... to do what? Sucy didn't know why, but she felt an unfamiliar desire to lean forward, to close the distance between them and truly know her angel. The all-too-familiar butterflies, on the other hand, beat their wings stronger than ever before.

Slowly, Sucy nodded her head.

"Y-yeah. Nice flowers."

"Well?"

"What?" Sucy said, the butterflies threatening to burst out of her chest.

"Take them! They're for you, silly!"

Sucy blinked. She glanced at the flowers, then back to her angel.

"Huh?"

The angel rolled her eyes and giggled. "Well, you are my first and best friend, so I thought my first spell should be for you! I want to make the whole world smile with my magic, and the very first person I want to see smile is you!"

Sucy didn't speak. She didn't know what to say. Her face was still, a silent mask. Quietly, gently, she took the flowers from the angel.

The angelic Akko pouted. "Daw, you didn't smile. I guess I'll just have try harder next time."

And away her angel flew to practice, flailing her wand around to get even the tiniest bit of magic out. Sucy watched the angel in her practice, the flowers clenched tight between her fingers. The butterflies beat so hard in her chest.

That day, Sucy understood what love was/p