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[hr][@almalthia] — Professor Kaylee Everose's Office - 9:20 AM[hr][hr][/center]

The professor’s voice was a distant light in a midnight harbor, too far to be reachable. But still, Aya tried to cling to it. Her hands gripped tight over her mouth, as if that would stop her crying. Her muscles tensed, her shoulders pulled up tight as they trembled. 

She was so [i]ashamed[/i].

Aya didn’t know how long she cried for, but eventually her tears slowed. Her shaking breaths hiccuped into her lungs. She tried to follow the professor’s instructions, counting out the seconds. Sifting through the memories was an agonizing process, as Aya tried to remember which tragic reality was hers. 

Papa was still dead. Mama had still left, run away back to Japan. She didn’t have any brothers. Papa had died of lung cancer. There’d been arrangements of flowers from his garden at the funeral, colorful bouquets of red ginger flowers, ferns, and birds of paradise. He had green eyes that Aya had inherited, before her mutation turned her irises black. There’d never been a motorcycle accident.

Eventually, Aya opened her eyes again. Her muscles were finally relaxed, energy depleted. She sat in the chair, feeling numb and hollowed. She was scraped raw, from the inside out. Aya sniffled. 

Some part of her told her to apologize again. She opened her mouth.

[color=aquamarine]”...What was that?”[/color] Her voice was small and fragile. She looked up to meet Professor Everose’s eyes. [color=aquamarine]”Why did I do that?”[/color]