Flame-chasing Captain.

3 - Roses.

A heavy storm was not something (Y/N) wanted to go through, especially on a Wednesday.

But sadly, today also ended up being one of his break days; thus, he decided to go outside once again to check on his flowers, without knowing that there was a massive storm outside.

He hadn't even brought any rain gear; it was just him, his now-wet Captain's uniform, and his bag which included an assortment of things: gardening tools, water, and food being some of them.

Rushing through the woods, with the wet grass soaking through his shoes as he walked by, he tried to reach his usual spot as quickly as possible to also leave as quickly as possible. 

He wasn't going to die today, tomorrow, or even next week. 

Because dying to a storm would definitely stain his reputation in the afterlife or something; he didn't really know to be quite honest on why he didn't want to die here, but he sure didn't. 

Eventually, he had made his way to his spot and finally would be able to look at his flowers just in case they had been damaged, and then, the realization of how foolish he had been set in just as he thought that.

He really had run through the woods during a heavy storm, ignored Tesla's advice to not go outside, didn't buy rain boots on his way here, and had a chance of forfeiting his life if something went wrong all for some flowers.

There had to be something wrong with him, and if there wasn't, it wouldn't explain his actions.

He might need to ask Tesla to get him a therapist or something, he really needed it.

Ignoring that for now, (Y/N) flipped over the rocks that cover the flowers in order to see their current state; the flowers were fine, there were no petals that had fallen off, and his moat was still working, although overflowing with water, and they all looked alive and well. 

He didn't really need his fill the moat, nor did he really have to do much else here, so it was time for him to go, fast. 

Putting his bag on and trying to put the rocks back in their place so that the flowers wouldn't get injured, (Y/N) stood up and tried to go back... if it weren't for the stray rock that hit him in the back of the head, which knocked him to the ground.

Crawling on the floor was certainly not what he wanted to do, but he doubted he'd be crawling any longer; his eyes were closing and nearly driving him to unconsciousness, and his own hands began to falter. It was terribly cold, and his whole body felt it, as if an ice block had encompassed his entire being.