The hawthorn trees were growing, slowly taking over the ruins of the facility. They'd been growing for a long time, quietly carving out an existence amidst the rubble. A young woman peered out at the plants from behind a section of collapsed wall. They were blooming this time of year and the small white flowers brought small sparks of color to dull landscape. It was raining again. The woman looked up at the gray sky and holding a hand out to the rain. Slowly, she emerged from the wreck, letting the rain and wan light of the afternoon fall on her pale hair and golden skin. 

She began to carefully pick her way through the hawthorn trees, wary of the thorns. Her movements were smooth and graceful, despite her winding path. Suddenly, she halted, seemingly short of her destination.

A young man lay among the hawthorns. He couldn't have been older than twenty. His skin was as pale and smooth as the petals of the flowers and the plants appeared to be growing over him, as if he had been there for years. The thorns pierced his skin in places, one of the plants even sprouting from his body and his mouth was sewn shut. His face was peaceful, though, and he looked like he was sleeping.

"Well, well, well! Who are YOU?" the woman asked inquisitively, half to herself. The man slowly opened his eyes, eyes that were as green as the hawthorn's leaves. However, where they should have been white, there was only blackness. He blinked, once, twice, and looked up. His dark eyes narrowed, and he muttered something in a different language, the stitches in his mouth stretching.

"I just want to know who you are," the woman replied in the same tongue, unfazed by the change. The man seemed surprised.

"I am the hawthorns," he answered haltingly. "We-I can... manifest, now. Since they have grown. I have grown too."

The woman appeared to understand, in spite of his cryptic answer.

"You are the spirit of these trees," she said with a smile and a hand held out to shake. "I've met some like you in the past. You probably can't tell me your true name, so I will call you Hawthorn. I am Sakae."

Hawthorn nodded and gingerly took her outstretched hand. Slowly, he stood, extricating himself from the trees. Together, the two walked out into the dim afternoon light.