Third person pov

Flowers, Kurama has come to find, are far more resilient than he thought.

There is no sun here. It is dark in the sewers of Naruto Uzumaki's mind, and Kurama had idly wondered time and time again where these flowers get their nutrients from. They have yet to wilt, still spry and with petals that bounce, their wiry stems swaying in an invisible breeze.

They are all different shades of pastel, whites and pale pinks and light yellows. The grass that pokes up between them is a bold contrast, but then, grass has always been known to be a little pushier. It's not as sensitive, able to grow up through thin cracks in the concrete, able to thrive in even the worst conditions.

Maybe it's because the flowers aren't real. They-- they

are

, but not in the sense that they are a part of nature, in the sense that they are physical. They are mental constructs, solid only within the confines of this mind. And yet...