Cut From A Tattered Cloth

Interlude

The man twirled a plumeria flower in his fingers. Then he looked at the tree–the tree that should not have existed. It wasn't right; there was nothing natural about a tree growing up out of a polyester carpet. Yet here the tree was, thriving as though plumeria trees were meant to grow inside of buildings like this.

He looked up, watching the tattered cloak of Eijiro Tokuda slip out the door, his apprentice beside him. She was a peculiar girl, that Melia Talavalu. Powerful, yes, but also trusting and naive. The man was surprised that she could be so innocent given the life she'd had. Then again, perhaps it was because of the life she had that she acted like this. Under different circumstances, she likely would've become one of the standard moody teenagers the man found so tiresome.

He dropped the flower, watching the petals spiral as it propelled itself to the ground. All around him he heard the employees of The Beatrice chatter excitedly about "the girl with il fiori." To them, she was a miracle from the old country–a manifestation of the gods' power among men.

The man scoffed. He crushed the flower under his boot, grinding it into the synthetic carpet. Melia Talavalu was no god. She wasn't even a worthy adversary. But she could be troublesome. The man thought of the way she had brought Alfred Vitale out of the shadows.

He watched while it happened, of course. While her mentor bickered with the Vitale brother, the man saw Melia stumble across the redheaded boy peering out from the double doors marking the exit.. The man almost intervened, then remembered that the two of them didn't share a common language. Melia was fluent in multiple languages, buy Alfred didn't understand any of those. Surely he would grow tired of the overly happy stranger and leave.

The man shook his head. He should've known better. Of course the plant girl would find a way to communicate. And of course Alfred would fall into her arms, eager for companionship.

That left the man with a question. Sayuri Tokuda had to die, so did her attendants. The man was certain of this. Eijiro Tokuda had to die, as well. But he didn't need to be killed. The man knew Eijiro's past; if pushed far enough, Eijiro would simply kill himself. And the man already knew how he was going to do that.

He considered the plumeria tree before him. He didn't know what to think of the plant girl. As she was, the man could see her becoming a problem. But if properly motivated, he could see her being an asset, too. So, that left the question:

Did Melia Talavalu have to die?