Krishna Dhawan, quiet as he was, exuded an aura of pride. Everywhere he went, he held his head high and stood tall to face whatever obstacle life placed in his path. Anyone who considered him stoic or strong would wonder what had happened to make him slam his hands on the bathroom counter inside Padma’s Bouquet and release a strangled cry.

What had happened? Had he awoken to find a raccoon digging up his herb garden? Had the Better Business Bureau finally discovered he was literally living out of his flower shop and come to evict him? No, worse than either of those possibilities. His hair… his hair would not cooperate!

The florist took particular pride in his rainbow mane, carefully trimming away dead ends and maintaining its fluffy layers so that it perfectly framed his face. Why, then, did he now find half of his hair stubbornly sticking up and to the left, no matter how he combed, brushed, straightened, sprayed, or gelled?! Had Richard put gum or honey in it the last time he went into the candy shop as a late revenge for their rough sparring session?

The hair was soon a secondary concern, however, as a shadowy being suddenly exploded from the mirror! He had no chance of escaping at this range and felt the cold touch. With a hiss, he managed to untangle himself and ran out of the bathroom. In his haste, he did not close the door.

The wraith-like creature slithered closer to him, intent on a second attack. Krishna did not know what more prolonged contact would do, but he noted two things. First, even the glancing touch had drained him. He felt like he needed his daily coffee, normally a late afternoon ritual, right now and it was only 6:00 in the morning. Second, the creature appeared more… solid then it had when it first appeared. He did not want to further fuel this gluttonous monster and thereby make his opponent stronger.

But he could still attack from a distance, and he would not let his shop get wrecked a second time! He plucked up the nearby rake. It was not much distance, but it was enough. He struck swift and hard directly onto what he assumed was the head of the beast. His efforts were rewarded when he heard the sound of broken glass and the creature disappeared.

Golden eyes narrowed. It had not been a youma--he would have recognized it and its energy signature. But it had certainly felt of Chaos. What was this creature? Why had it come into his shop?

As he glanced at himself in the mirror… he frowned to see his hair still out of place. At least now he had an excuse to punch the mirror--which he promptly did.

Word Count: 467