"Wah... waaah..."
In a melancholy world washed in purple, a little girl cried helplessly somewhere unknown. Her sobs echoed distinctly through the seemingly vast space.
As the blur slowly cleared, the little girl's face came into view.
It was Asuka, holding a little Monkey Doll, but she looked as she had in childhood.
Asuka gradually remembered. Everything was still there...
She had thought time could dilute those painful childhood memories and let her forget them, but they had instead etched themselves deep into her mind, impossible to shake.
Now the memories of her past had curved around like a boomerang and returned.
"Why am I crying? I made up my mind never to cry again..." Asuka looked at her childhood self before her, her heart as still as stagnant water.
Cold, without a ripple, without any life.
Riiip-crackle, crackle, crash!!!
The memory shifted again, to another scene from her childhood...
"What's wrong, Asuka? This is a present from your new mommy. Don't you like it?"
A mature, resonant male voice spoke. No matter how gentle or pleasant his tone was, Asuka heard and felt not a trace of familial affection.
The Monkey Doll she had been holding lay on the floor, its belly torn open, its cotton stuffing ripped out.
A doll could not express emotions. All it had was the expression someone had designed for it.
It wore a cute smile, yet now lay on the floor with its insides spilling out.
Look, that was what a doll was like. No matter how badly it was damaged, it never made a sound.
Of course. Being a doll was the very basis of its survival.
As long as it obediently did as it was told, scraps of affection could be tossed its way like food to a dog.
Little Asuka's