Just as Amiya had mentioned, Clever had indeed bypassed most of the lengthy background checks and joined Rhodes Island directly.
"So, are you assigned to field operations or internal logistics?" Flandre asked, looking curiously at Clever.
Clever rolled her eyes playfully and tapped her slender arm. "Look at how fragile and helpless I am; there's no way I could survive out on field missions!"
Flandre let out a small sigh of disappointment. "So an internal Operator, then. Though you're right, Clever, you really are a bit weak!"
"Hey, hey, hey! Even if it's true, why does it sound so infuriating when you say it out loud?" Clever grumbled with feigned annoyance.
"Wahahaha! Because Flandre is super strong, obviously!"
Flandre flexed her tiny, nonexistent biceps, prompting a burst of laughter from everyone at the table.
Once they settled down, Flandre spoke up again. "Rhodes Island is really safe, so it's a good thing you're here. At least your sisters won't have to worry about you running into danger out in the wilderness."
Her words resonated strongly with the other two.
"That's true," Clever agreed, taking a sip of water. "Rhodes Island's defenses are remarkably solid." She paused slightly, realizing the faint irony in those words given her and Amiya's mercenary pasts, though the sentiment remained genuine.
After finishing their lunch, Clever had to head off to attend her orientation training modules, leaving her unable to stay and play. Amiya then took Flandre back toward the upper decks to visit the Sanatorium Garden.
Flandre noticed that although only two days had passed, the arrangement of flowers, herbs, and ornamental flora in the glass greenhouse had become significantly more pleasing to the eye. The visual harmony wasn't just a matter of color design, but a deeper, organic balance between the various species and their environment.
More than that, Flandre felt a comforting, familiar warmth in the air.
As she and Amiya strolled through the winding gravel paths, they quickly spotted Lena working near a central flowerbed, squatting down with a small hand hoe in her grip.
"Sister Lena!" Amiya called out with a wave.
"Amiya! And little Flandre, hello there!" Lena looked up from her work, brushing a lock of hair from her face and waving back with a gentle smile.
"Do you need any help, Sister Lena?" the ever-helpful Amiya offered immediately.
Lena glanced at Flandre standing beside her. "Aren't you supposed to be showing little Flandre around to play today...?"
Amiya hesitated, realizing she was supposed to be hosting her guest, but before she could speak, Flandre piped up enthusiastically. "I can help too!"
"You...?" Lena looked slightly hesitant. The plants cultivated in the landship's greenhouse were delicate and difficult to replace; if a root system were damaged, it would take months of meticulous care to nurse them back to health.
"Flandre can definitely do it! When I was back home, I learned all about this from Meiling!" Flandre declared with absolute confidence.
Although her gardening efforts at the Scarlet Devil Mansion had often devolved into chaotic play—mostly because her mind was somewhat clouded back then—her fundamental understanding of plant life and botanical instincts were completely sound.
"Flandre did indeed learn from me," Hong Meiling's voice chimed in from behind them.
Flandre turned around to see Hong Meiling walking in carrying a packed lunch box, which she handed straight to Lena. "Go eat your lunch first, Lena. I'll supervise things here."
Lena accepted the lunch box with complete trust, stepping over to a nearby bench to sit down and eat.
Hong Meiling then produced two small hand hoes, handing one to Amiya and the other to Flandre. "Alright, our task for this afternoon is to carefully dig up these designated plants so we can re-soil and regroup them according to their natural growth habits."
Flandre pouted slightly upon hearing the plan. "Digging plants up just to plant them right back in... Meiling, when did you learn to do such redundant work?"
"How is this redundant?" Meiling chuckled softly. "This is systematic botanical organization! Every plant species has other plants it thrives alongside and ones it dislikes. Just like how you have people you don't particularly want to sit close to, Flandre."
Flandre reluctantly accepted the logic. After all, she certainly had people she disliked being near.
"Make sure to be extremely careful when digging," Hong Meiling reminded them as they prepared to start. "Preserve as much of the root mass as possible."
"Got it!" Amiya and Flandre chorused together.
With that, both girls raised their small hoes and set to work on the soil before them. Hong Meiling stood nearby, keeping a watchful eye and offering steady guidance.
Not far away, Lena observed the scene while eating her meal. She quickly noticed that Hong Meiling's attention and verbal reminders were directed almost entirely toward Amiya, while Flandre was largely left to her own devices.
Curious, Lena leaned in closer to watch their techniques.
It didn't take long to spot the stark contrast between the two young girls.
Amiya moved with extreme caution, terrified that a fraction too much force might sever a rootlet. Her movements were slow, methodical, and hesitant, which naturally drew more of Hong Meiling's protective supervision.
Flandre, on the other hand, was the absolute opposite.
Every time her small hoe came down, the strike was sharp, swift, and decisive, executing with a crisp precision that made Lena's heart skip a beat every single time. Yet, despite the aggressive speed, every single strike landed flawlessly. She might occasionally clip the very outer tips of the fine hair-roots, but the core root ball remained entirely untouched and intact. Her speed was easily three times faster than Amiya's.
Because her execution was so clean, Hong Meiling naturally felt no need to intervene or correct her.
Between the two contrasting methods, one couldn't necessarily label one as right and the other as wrong. It was simply that watching Flandre work was an absolute thrill for any seasoned gardener's nerves.
Wondering how Flandre was able to gauge the precise spread and depth of the hidden roots beneath the topsoil without seeing them, Lena set her lunch aside, picked up a spare trowel, and crouched beside her.
"Flandre, how are you estimating where the main root mass ends?" Lena asked curiously.
Flandre paused, scratched her cheek, and offered an answer that left Lena entirely speechless.
"By feeling!"
"Eh?" Lena blinked, staring at the dozen or so neatly extracted plants resting beside Flandre. She had dug all of those out purely on 'feeling'?
Could raw intuition truly be that precise? What if her stroke landed an inch off?
Feeling a wave of lingering concern, Lena picked up a small hand hoe and carefully inspected the edges of the dirt holes Flandre had made. To her amazement, there was no issue whatsoever—Flandre's cuts were traced at the absolute optimal boundary every single time, inflicting only microscopic stress on the root tips.
This wasn't something built on decades of conventional gardening experience; it was a sheer, innate spatial instinct. It was a natural gift that simply couldn't be taught or replicated.
Lena couldn't help but feel a mixture of awe and mild helplessness.
Seeing that Lena didn't object to her work, Flandre happily turned back to her row, her small hoe rising and falling in a rhythmic blur.
By the time late afternoon rolled around, the four of them had successfully cleared and prepped more than half of the designated flowerbeds. Naturally, two-thirds of that total workload had been completed by Flandre alone, while the remaining three had handled the rest together.
"I have a private shower stall in the back breakroom," Lena said, pointing toward a small adjacent structure. "You two should wash up first; it's almost time for dinner."
"Whew! Time really flew by!" Flandre wiped a tiny bead of sweat from her forehead, letting out a satisfied, cheerful grin.