She knew this was just another dream of hers.
It always had been.
It had always been this way.
Hadn't it?
Over and over, endlessly, just as she had imagined more than once throughout those long years: when this illusory dream ended, when you opened your eyes...
He would already be standing before you.
But reality remained cold and cruel. It was all such wishful thinking. Whenever you woke from your dreams, all that awaited you was that endless, chilling oppression. Vast darkness swept over you, cold enough to all but freeze your heart, cold enough to make you forget this life.
And you were powerless.
You could only keep watch over that icy grave, hugging your curled-up body, wandering day after day, waiting year after year, until time itself forgot you, until... the day you could no longer hold on.
And often, she would think of Painter, of that girl, of her suffering.
She didn't know whether she would become like her, whether she, too, would someday fall into madness within that eternity, whether even after giving everything you had, you would still never see the person you were waiting for.
Numb.
Hollow.
As though plunged into hell...
A tear slowly slipped from her tightly closed lashes.
Bang-!
"Waaaaaah! (ΩДΩ)!! That hurts! That hurts!! Who was that?! Who dared hit Zuo Zuo on the head?!"
Zuo Zuo sprang up from where she lay on the bed, tears flying as she clutched the enormous lump swelling on her head. She snapped awake, bristling all over.
She instantly took a fighting stance, ready to risk her life with tears in her eyes.
Beside the bed stood a boy with dead-fish eyes, a frying pan resting on his shoulder. He adjusted his Monocle as he looked at her.
His tone was far