Nerium oleander

Foxglove

If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

Yao had wondered about it as a child, in those eternal moments where he was locked in his house, when his father's rage wasn't soothed by the bitter taste of alcohol and the neighborhood seemed deserted.

If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, it does make a sound, several actually. It shireks, it cracks, it hisses, it screams while it's roots break from the ground and the branches try to grasp onto something for dear life.

The question is not that hard to answer, a forest is never devoid of any life, there are birds, foxes, bugs and so on. The thing is, none of those creatures in the forest really care about said tree falling unless it affects them. They do hear it -sometimes they even see it- but they choose to ignore it, to stay away from it. After all, it must fall for a reason, perhaps it's too old, too weak, it's bent over the wrong way or simply rotten. There's always a reason, and if there isn't one, you can make it up.

A drop of water fell every now and then, echoing in the small room, Yao wrinkled his nose, the dampness making his mind wander to unwanted memories. At least Arthur had been unconscious most of his time here, he'd been accompanied by the morning songs of birds and the rattling of the trees that filled the silence of the forest.

Taking a look at the flower form before him, Yao sighed, his hand tightening around the carver. The idea of making a flower vase cut* was easier said than done, arranging the body had been stupidly hard, Arthur Kirkland deserved neither the kindness nor the effort. Yao's eyes wandered to the axe, sitting beside the handrail, waiting to be used. No. That was too harsh.

The purple and pink flowers were last, Yao pondered on the form before him, perhaps Arthur would have approved of these flowers, foxgloves were both simple and somewhat magical. Properly managed, these flowers could heal, but poorly dosed they were fatal. Arthur would've been just fine if he had focused on being an honest nobody instead of a renowned researcher that lured his pupils to fail.

The ceiling screeched and Yao froze, footsteps audible above as a familiar voice spoke.

"This place isn't as horrible as you made it seem, there's a couple of things falling apart but it looks decent. Ivan was right when he said you couldn't stand leaving something unclean," there was a pause, Tolys hummed and his pacing resumed. "I know, and I'm trying not to think too much about it, though I think he's doing it again. I ran into him, kind of, he already knew about Remus. I think he's been following my psychiatrist too, he seemed eager to speak with him."

Tolys was finally right about his assumptions for once, perhaps this lamb could turn into a fox in the future. Yao drew in a breath, taking soft steps towards the staircase and switching off the light, the metallic glint of the axe giving him a wink as Tolys' footsteps grew closer to the door.

The stairs were short, narrow, a cabinet with wood chopping tools by the left. The old chief wanted to hide in this place, that was for sure. Why else would he block the view with a hideous piece of burly wood and a stash of alcohol in the lower crates? Yao dared to say that the basement was larger than the upper level of the cabin. Nothing surprising ever came from Aldrich Beilschmidt and his enthusiasm for handmade furniture, though the tools were quite useful for tearing apart more than wood.

"Of course it creeps me out, I don't like to watch my back every two seconds," Tolys huffed, "Gilbert, I don't think that bothering him again is a good idea. There's a lot going on right now, like the odor of the basement here, I think you have a dead racoon... No, I'm not changing the topic, just... ugh you know what? come here yourself, I have more serious concerns than this,"

After that Tolys stayed silent, still pacing around, Yao could hear him opening the water tap. His steps grew further away until a bark echoed in the cabin, Remus pawns scraping the floor.

Tolys' voice was unmistakably sweet as he greeted the dog. "Who's a good boy? Yes, you are. You gave me quite the scare,"

If there was a bad choice in Yao's life, that would be adopting this godforsaken dog. It was annoying, sticking his nose everywhere but still, Remus was... such a good boy, scratching the door and leading Tolys towards him.

The door was opened and Tolys coughed, taking hesitant footsteps as Remus made its way downstairs, wiggling its tail and sitting.

Yao waited until Tolys reached the last step, uttering "Fass" and observing how Remus tensed his posture and growled, showing his teeth. A yelp from Tolys grew audible alongside a nervous chuckle.

"Hey It's me," Tolys' voice grew louder, as he backed away from the dog, his foot slipping on the last step, making him stumble back. "Wait, no, Remus, No!"

Tolys face contorted into a grimace as Remus lunged forward, giving a playful bite that became tighter on his arm, for someone who had spent quite some time with this K9, he knew nothing about how to stop the dog from attacking him.

Taking a sharp breath, Yao tightened his hold on the axe. This was beyond disgraceful, an axe murder was distatesful, too close, too messy, yet, he managed to swing down the axe with force. Tolys shrieked in pain as it downed into his shoulder, his eyes widened with recognition.Yao frowned, lifting the axe again, a sickening wet sound emitted from the movement as blood poured from his wound.

"No please," Tolys whined, turning away and scrambling up the stairs with shaky hands.

The scene was disturbingly familiar, there were no screams coming from the form on the stairs, only the pathetic attempt at escaping. Tolys would have looked exactly the same as poor Ms Wang if only he had been stabbed with a knife.

Remus barked constantly, moving back and forth in the basement but never close to them. Everything was like a game for the dog. Why would this creature care? Yao striked Tolys again, this time, the only sound coming from the other was the cracking of his skull.

With heavy breaths, Yao retrieved the axe, averting his gaze from the bloody mess, his hands shook as he felt dampness on his face, a small splotch of red staining the flowers behind. A wave of nausea hit him, he tossed the bloody tool away and stumbled out of the basement, sitting at the top of the staircase. The battered living room seemed so refreshing in comparison with his thoughts, coldness crept on his lungs with every breath, dulling his dizziness.

Insincerity and pride, that was Arthur's essence. However, concealing those meanings on such a lovely flower felt wrong and staining said flowers with an innocent's blood was worse. Yao frowned, he could not allow himself to feel guilt at this point, though the realization was... interesting. Why did it come now?

Perhaps it was the fact that Tolys didn't deserve it, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time or maybe Francis' whining had gotten into his head. Remorse, guilt, disgust, whatever it was, it came too late. The ordeal was done and there was no time to grieve or ponder about it. It was a matter of time before Alfred decided to follow his gut or Gilbert came to retrieve his lamb.

Yao wanted to laugh at the nonsense of this raskolnikovian** moment, this wasn't guilt, it was frustration, everything would go downhill from here. Remus barked, running upstairs, whining as he took a hold of the dog to force him back, it crawled on his lap, licking him on the cheek.

Sometimes Remus was annoying but it was a small nuance, easy to handle. Unlike the unwanted thoughts about broken china and bloody flowers, Remus was predictable, loyal, a good boy that could not stop licking his blood stained hands.

If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?
It didn't matter anymore, tonight the Vargas would have a lavish banquet and no one would hear or care about a crushed wallflower in Adelfa.

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A/N: * A flower vase cut is also a Colombian way of post mortem mutilation, usually used during the violence period though it has also been used by drug cartels later in time. It's basically the act of cutting the limbs of a person as well as the head and carving a hole in order to place the extremities where the head should be.

**As referring to Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov, the protagonist from Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment novel, who's an extremenly feverish and shaky axe murderer.