Extra: Her Visitor

Flandre Scarlet rarely had visitors. She stayed in a room deep in the basement of the Scarlet Devil Mansion. Food and drink were brought down for her, as she rarely stepped out of her room. She was not a prisoner, however. In fact, there existed no prison that could contain her power.

Long ago, her sister told her to stay in her room. She said that it was not safe for her to step out. The maids would take care of her if she needed anything. She didn't need to worry; everything she wanted would be brought down for her - toys, books, clothes, and anything else that she might want.

Over the years, she grew accustomed to this kind of life. Her sister would come down to visit from time to time, and the maids took care of her needs. Patchouli would even come to teach her every so often, though her lessons were often tedious and difficult to understand. There was little reason to think of escaping, for while it was a little strange, she did understand that she led a pretty happy life.

Flandre trusted her sister. She loved her, and not once did she doubt her good intentions. Sometimes, she missed her sister's visits, which were growing rarer over the years, but she knew that Remilia was now the head of the Scarlet family. All she needed to do, as her little sister, was to believe in her.

Of course, that is not to say that she never stepped out. Every once in a while, she would climb the spiraling staircase and walk around the Mansion. She would often take a short walk in the garden, or have a chat with the gatekeeper, but she never left the grounds. Besides the shrine maiden and the black-white, she rarely spoke with her sister's guests. She never had guests of her own.

This is the reason why, on that fateful day, she was surprised when a stranger stepped into her room. He knocked before entering, of course, but Flandre noticed something right away when he entered - this person was a human. There was little that stood out from his manner of dress, but she did note that he wore a pair of silver-rimmed glasses upon his face.

He introduced himself cordially as one of Remilia's guests. There was nothing at all special about this person; nothing unusual or peculiar about the way he acted and spoke. But why was it that Flandre felt something different from him?

"Would you like to come with me upstairs?" he asked suddenly.

"E-eh?" she stammered.

"I thought you might enjoy some company, and some fresh air is always good," he said. "Are you busy with something?"

"Busy? No, not busy! I only have some books and toys as company," she said.

"Then come and spend time with this lonely stranger," he said, taking her hand deftly before she could argue.

As they climbed up the stairs, he continued to talk. He spoke of anything and everything - the blue sky, the warm weather, the lack of good tea in the kitchen, the latest spell card duel her sister fought - and Flandre could do little more than nod and smile in response. Something else was on her mind, keeping her distracted.

His hands were so warm.