In the darkness of her most feared memories, broken worlds lay crumpled, a churning mess of decay.

Flecks of light fell from the skies, a precarious reflection of a broken world.

Whirls of wind stirred the light, swirling it around haphazardly as the wind would do to the gentle snow.

It was so cold, and lonely here.

Everything was frozen even though the harrowing chorus of voices flooded her ears.

It was all one could do to lock the heart away, to throw all thoughts and hopes aside.

A soft chime rung through the darkness speckled with light, just as harrowing as it was musical.

'I'm so sorry ...'

A haunted voice whispers through the darkness, disconnected, bouncing through the darkness as the light fell.

Sorrow rung in the voice, broken, reflecting the broken world.

'It's alright if you want to cry.'

And then, the flecks of broken light grew brighter, illuminating the world around her.

Illuminating one of the memories that haunted her the most.

Flashing of blue and red danced in the back of her mind, her petite form clad in sombre hues of black and grey. A single branch of green was held in her small hands, upon its stem were tiny little flowers where the petals had turned transparent upon contact with water.

The sea of voices surrounded her, ever cold in the wake of her worlds disaster.

They were nobody she knew, nobody she ever wanted to know.

They spoke, disjointed, words of pity rolling off of apt tongues.

They knew who she was, though they had never met her before.

They'd never met her until now.

'Such a useless child.' One voice spoke, that of a woman much older than her Mama. 'Its a wonder she managed to cope so long with such a daughter as that.'

A harsh, mocking laugh echoed in response to the callous words.

'Hush now, Dear,' An older man spoke, though the jesting tone in his voice showed that he certainly didn't mean the reprimanding his words portrayed. 'Its doubtful, but she might be able to understand you.'

The flecks of broken light filtered through the air, casting bright glimmers through the expansive, talkative ballroom full of people. Red, plush carpets were elegantly spread over gold-coloured floors, red leather chairs sitting along the edge of the room in neat arrangements. The railing of the two circling flights of stairs that lead up to the overlook seating up above were ornately designed, resembling plant vines in elegant, looping manners. Soft terracotta coloured walls offset the two main colours of red and gold, dimly lit by wall-lamps.

The grand piano that usually stood proud in the centre of the room had been moved, relocated to another room for this one particular event.

Instead, a pillar of flowers stood in its place, surrounding a life-sized photograph of a fair-featured woman with soft red eyes.

A chandelier of crystal and gold hung from the top of the room's ceiling, the source of the fragmented flecks of white light.

The crystals resembled skeleton flowers, that of which were her mothers favorite, though nobody had brought them here for her.

Nobody except for the lonely little girl standing before the giant mass of expansive, and exorbitant display.

Silently, with no emotion showing across her face, the girl stood silently in front of her mothers portrait, alone in the dull chorus of mocking, insincere voices.

Hand-prints of dull purple showed over her neck, though nobody cared enough to give her a proper look.

The most she received were scorned looks, of judging stares and words dipped in false pleasantries.

Little to no effort was put to mask their lack of care or consideration, and even if there had, she wouldn't be fooled.

Even at such an age, she could tell the difference without having to try.

'She's just a child – A small one at that.' Another voice spoke from right over her shoulder, disdain echoing in their voice. 'Apparently she fails to exhibit any form of trait belonging to either of her parents. No beauty or grace, nor intelligence beyond her years. Its almost depressing, when one stops to consider that she will inherit everything when her grandfather passes away.'

''How is the Mizumoto Clan going to continue with just that child as the sole heir?' Another spoke in question.

'Perhaps Haruto-sama might wed and produce a more suitable heir, being the eldest of Shinosuke-sama's children.' A third voice spoke.

'But what of Shigure-sama?'

A scoff echoed in response.

'You're better off forgetting such a fool exists.' The first spoke, bemusement in their tone of voice. 'He nor any child of his hold claim over the Mizumoto Clan's future. Not after he was thrown out for protesting against Yukariko-sama's marriage.'

'Is that what happened?' The other voice spoke in surprise. 'What of him now, then?'

'He's a puppet of the governmet, forever unwelcome to set foot on this island ever again. Nothing more, nothing less.'

The energy in the room was enough to make her feel like she was in a separate world – The self-serving voices that swam around her felt so far away.

As she stood there with the flashing of blue and red lights swirling around in the back of her mind, the people around her remained blissfully unaware.

Of all the voices, fault for Yukariko's fate was discussed as a common topic.

She heard it so much, the words were burned into the back of her mind.

A scarce few placed the blame on the three-year-old children who were not currently present in the room with her.

All the rest placed fault upon her, and her alone.

And the worst part of it was that it made sense to her.

It made so much sense, she was so far beyond crying, or screaming in a fit.

Yukariko was too young to have children, and the child she bore took its toll on her.

It was because she was born, that Yukariko had ended up coming to such a tragic end.

That was what they all said, and it felt more true with every repetition.

No fault lied with the man who practically lived in the basement – No shred of doubt was cast towards the man who even now remained cloistered in his laboratories, never showing tribute to the woman by revealing himself for just a minute.

He just lost the wife he had spent the past six years married to, while she, a burden that had drawn the life out of her for seven whole years.

That was what they said.

'So you don't want me either ... do you, Maya?'

Maybe it really was all her fault?

Maybe everything that had happened to the people around her was all her fault, and she was just so stupid to realize it?

'Amaya?' A voice rung through the sea of scathing voices, her tone a mournful chime that matched the otherworldy tones that echoed in the back of her subconscious.

Melancholic, apathetic, and perhaps the embodiment of despair.

Even at such a young age, she could pick the meaning of those words by the sound of the woman's voice.

It wasn't the voice she wanted to hear most of all – She knew that she would never hear it, ever again.

'Amaya! Can you answer me, please?' The voice called out again, a little more pleading this time.

And yet she remained with her shadowed gaze upon her mothers portrait.

She was so tired of the voices she didn't know - she was so tired of standing right here in the middle of this room devoid of life.

Even as the owner of the mournful voice approached, she didn't react.

'There you are!' Relief flooded into the voice as slender hands reached out to to take hold of her shoulders, a gentle firmness to the grip. 'I've been looking everywhere for you – What are you doing here? And on your own?'

Not a word escaped Amaya as she was brought to turn around to face the one person she recognized in this place.

Long ginger hair hung down the sides of a pale, freckled face, green eyes taking in Amaya's despondent appearances with quickening breath. A long-sleeved black shirt and black denim jeans was what the woman wore. She was knelt down on the polished floor so she was at an equal height to Amaya.

Her eyes widened with surprise at the lack of response, though something unfamiliar soon appeared instead.

'Amaya, sweetheart. I asked you to wait for me in the library... So why are you here, instead?' The woman asked her, her tone entirely patient, sincere.

She knew the womans name, but right at that moment, it didn't come to her.

'Shinosuke-sofu's people told me to stay here with Mama's picture...' She responded, her gaze lowering to the lone branch of flowers in her little hands. 'They said I can't go until Shinosuke-sofu says so...'

The woman's breath hitched in her throat, and her hands to Amaya's shoulders had flinched ever so slightly.

'D-don't you want to go outside? Anywhere else but here?'

'Shinosuke-sofu's people said I have to be a good girl now ... I can't cause any more trouble for everyone ...' She responded quietly.

'But Amaya... In this case, its okay to be selfish.' The mournful woman spoke, her voice trembling ever so slightly as she watched Amaya's despondent form. 'Its alright if you want to cry. Or if you want to run away and hide outside, its okay to do that, because you're still just a little girl.'

'I'm not allowed to cry...'

Shock appeared across the woman's face, so suddenly it was clear that Amaya's words had startled her.

'Who told you that? Who would say such a thing to you!?' She questioned, her hold of Amaya tightening.

'Everyone.' She responded, her gaze lifting to look up at the mournful woman once again. 'They all say its my fault, what happened to Mama, Yuta getting hurt, Reiko always crying, everything ... so I'm not allowed to cry anymore...'

Slowly, the shock melted away from the woman's face, and her expression fell more and more, almost as if she was the one who was about to cry instead. She opened her mouth every few seconds as if she were about to speak, though no words escaped her the first few attempts.

'I'm sure your mother wouldn't want to see you like this...' She eventually spoke, lifting a hand to gently place it to the side of Amaya's face.

'But she's not here anymore ...'

Just as the mournful woman had opened her mouth to speak, the sounds of approaching footsteps appeared through the chatter of thoughtless voices, and a deep-toned voice spoke up, causing the woman to flinch.

'Genivierre-san.' A tall, heavily built man clad in a black suit spoke, coming to a halt just a couple of feet away. 'Katsuragi-sama requires use of the child, now.'

'What?! Is he out of his mind?!' The woman called Genivierre gasped out, turning her head to gape up at the newly arrived men. 'Just how cruel do you people have to be?! Her mother just died yesterday and here you are trying to take her away during her funeral?! You can't do this!'

'There's nothing else we can do - we're just following orders.' The man spoke, though even from where Amaya stood, he didn't look all that upset.

'This is wrong! She's just a little girl!'

'Orders are orders Genivierre-san, and you have yours as well.' Was the response Genivierre received. 'Now hand the child over.'

As Amaya watched the scene that was unfolding in front of her, her heart sunk a little more inside her tiny body.

She wasn't even doing anything, and she was already causing trouble just by being here.

It really was all her fault, wasn't it?

Her body moved on its own, towards the strange men that had come for her, the small branch of flowers falling from her petite hands as she walked.

She was tired of everyone getting hurt, all because of her.

She wanted it to stop hurting, deep inside.

'A-Amaya?! What are you doing?!' Genivierre gasped out, reaching out to try and pull Amaya back.

Though the moment the girl had looked at her, she froze.

'I'm sorry ... I have to be a good girl, now...' Amaya spoke, smiling as best she could for the broken woman frozen with her hand outstretched. 'Papa wants to see me ... so I have to go now...'

No words escaped Genivierre, and the sea of careless, selfish voices continued as if nothing was happening at all.

Two of the men dressed in black suits grabbed the little Amaya by the wrists, steering her through the sea of people towards the main door.

And all the while, the mournful, broken form of Genivierre remained frozen, tears slipping down her pale face while the world continued none the wiser around her.

The last Amaya heard was a small string of words, spoken so softly she still didn't know if she really had heard them.

'It's never been your fault...'

Hasn't it?

But its always felt that way, deep inside.

No words were spoken by the scary looking men in black suits, their expressions and grip of her wrists conveying nothing to her at all.

They steered her down a corridor leading in a sweeping turn, which seemed to follow the main structure of the ballroom. Circling, sweeping, an extension of the same colours that filled the ballroom.

They walked and walked, following the corridor until they reached a large utility elevator.

The soft hues of terracotta, gold and red did not extend here – Instead, a cold steel cage was the world in here.

Down the elevator went, a short few seconds that rather felt like an eternity to her.

Until the little cable-drawn cage came to a stop, and the soft sound of metal sliding aside speckled the silence there had been.

A painful, lifeless light washed over the many corridors and rooms equipped with machinery and metal objects. Walls of rectangles showing many different displays showed, words she couldn't hope to read despite her best attempts.

At the sounds of the elevator door opening, a faceless form clad in a labcoat appeared, almost immediately.

'Ah, you lot have finally brought it, have you?' They spoke, their voice just as condescending as the others in the ballroom. 'Well hand it to me, and you may go on your merry way.'

In response, the grips that held her wrists released her, and the faceless form reached out to snatch hold of her by the elbow to drag her out.

And then, the metal door slid shut behind her, leaving her trapped in this strange, alien-like world she'd never seen before in her life.

'Come, child. Its time to prepare you for the procedures.' The labcoat wearing person instructed, pulling her harshly down the white-washed corridor on the right, where they had been before appearing in front of her.

The room the form lead her to was washed in the same harsh white light as everything else, however there were no monitors or anything of the like, here.

Instead, a simple wheeled gurney with restraints stood in the middle of the room, and a single shelf stood against the wall on the far side.

Before she could get a proper look at it, though, Amaya was tugged sharply inside, and the door slammed shut behind her.

'Don't bother trying to look around.' The labcoat-wearing person spoke, lifting Amaya by the back of the dress to drop her onto the gurney without any real care or consideration. 'You'll have plenty of opportunities to get to know the room later.'

The grip hadn't left her elbow for very long, and before Amaya had a chance to straighten up on the gurney, the cold-speaking person had a rather sharp looking syringe in his hand. Beads of opaque liquid dripped from the end of the needle, further turning the sight into a horrifying one.

And immediately, a terrified scream escaped little Amaya as she tried desperately to get away.

'Of course...' The labcoat-wearing person huffed, carefully placing the handle of the syringe in his mouth so he could free up a hand.

With one hand still to Amaya's elbow, his other grabbed her by the back of the head, slamming her face-first into the gurney hard enough to stun her momentarily.

And with well practiced movements, he then jabbed the needle of the syringe into her neck before she regained her senses.

The world slipped from her grasp for what felt like a second, as if she had merely blinked, and then everything had changed.

She was lying face-up on the wheeled gurney now, her black dress replaced with a simple white dress that felt more like paper than cotton. And her head where her hair was supposed to be felt very cold.

It felt like she had only blinked, but everything had changed – It was like she had fallen asleep, but she didn't feel like she had been sleeping.

Her body felt disconnected to her wishes.

She was awake, but she couldn't wake up any more than this.

Her neck stung like she'd angered a bee, though she couldn't be sure.

But she wasn't stupid – She realized what this was.

She had seen her mother fall asleep many times in the middle of screaming, when someone would come and touch her neck with a needle.

Lifelessly her body lay upon the wheeled bed, staring up at the burning lights situated in the steel and stone ceilings.

The faceless form that wheeled her through the expanse of cold, lifeless walls was the same man, even though she couldn't pick anything of him – No other features came to her blurry gaze.

Other forms dressed in long white coats wove in and out of her peripheral vision, none sparing a glance to her and her escort, many had their gazes on wads of white paper adorned with numbers, charts and squiggly lines that made no sense to her.

It was much like she didn't exist.

The clanging of steel doors slamming open met her dull ears, the gurney she lay upon thudding in time with the doors slam, jostling her little form.

Without care, the form that had control of the gurney she was lying upon had pushed her through the doors of a little room filled with a great display of monitors and metallic tools, and left her there.

The doors of the room slammed shut behind him as he walked back out of the room.

But she wasn't alone in the room.

A form clad in the white coats that everyone else had stood up on the far side of the room, sharp features narrowed in thought.

He was a man she actually recognized despite her sluggish state, long, scraggly black hair hanging down the sides of his face messily in a testament to the lack of concern he had for his own appearances, his amber eyes quickly scanning the numbers on a clipboard in his hands as he began to wander over towards the wall of monitors. The bags beneath his eyes were very dark, a sign that he never truly slept.

But then as he seemed to suddenly realize she was lying there in the room, he looked over, his eyes widening slightly as he grinned at her.

'So they finally brought you in, huh?' The man spoke, his voice steeped in a bright tone as he took to tossing his clipboard aside without a care as he approached her. 'For a specimen with no skills or special talents, you will make a perfect continuation of my research. Its just a shame they took three whole hours just to find you. That's three whole hours the water project got delayed. A lot can happen in three hours, after all.'

Katsuragi Toji buried his hands in the pockets of his lab coat, staring down at her limp form with that same grin hinting at a maniacal edge.

'Even though your original purpose has expired, I still have so many new plans and purposes for you.'

She had no idea what the man was even talking about, though the look across his face scared her regardless.

'But enough of that – Its time to introduce you to your new home.'

New home ...?

Was she moving away somewhere?

'Oh yes! And you won't be having that old name of yours – No no! I've got an even better name for you, with so much more meaning – It'll be the best name you've ever had! Specimen Ten – How do you like the sound of that? Catchy, isn't it?'

Toji cast her a maniacal grin as he stepped over to a shelf housing a great variety of little glass jars, all filled with liquid of some kind.

Some were red, others purple, but most were either clear or opaque white.

'Now then, where did I put that anesthetic...?' He hummed a tune to himself as he glanced over the little jars, lifting one from the bottom shelf that looked very much like the one the faceless man had used on her. 'Oh well, I guess this one will do for now.'

Her body wouldn't work for her, no matter how desperately she tried.

All she could do was stare up at the ceiling, and wait for the nightmares to just stop.

But then, something happened, so suddenly that she didn't understand what it was, or even what was happening.

Her vision flickered, like the world around her was a candle about to go out.

And somewhere in the distance, she thought she heard someone call her name.

'Don't you want to go outside? Anywhere else but in here?'

She didn't know – She didn't know what she even wanted anymore.

Did she ever know at all?

'Its alright if you want to cry.'

She wanted to. There were so many times all she wanted to do was scream and thrash around, howling her pain to the world instead of bottling it up so much.

But she had no right to do that.

Even now, she had no right to let herself be so selfish.

Because she always caused everyone else so much trouble and pain, just by being herself.

Just by letting herself become the smallest bit selfish, all the people she cared so much for ended up getting hurt.

And she was terrified of being left all alone in the dark.

'Its okay to be selfish. Its alright if you want to cry. Or if you want to run away and hide outside. Its okay to do that, because you're still a little girl.'

Is it really okay ...?

Is it really okay to be selfish, like that...?

'You do so much for everyone, and you never, ever want anything in return. You've never really lived a single day in your own life, because you've never given yourself a chance.'

But ... why?

'I'm sure your mother wouldn't want to see you like this ... I'm sure that in truth, she wants you to be happy – From the bottom of your heart, just like you always want for everyone else so selflessly.'

The sounds of her name being called echoed yet again, a voice that she knew for fact she had never heard in this place.

It didn't exist in this world, filled with so much pain and anguish.

And yet she couldn't make out what was being said.

It was just like she was lost beneath the surface, her ears dulled by the copius oceans inside her little body and those which even then, she realized would be her prison.

The flickering grew worse, stronger and stronger as Toji approached with a syringe that looked just like the one the faceless man had.

The liquid inside was just the same – a slightly opaque form of white.

And then all of a sudden, warmth through the frigid cold latched around her wrist.

The world went black, disappearing from her grasp in an instance, leaving her suspended in a darkness that was as familiar as the acrid, metalic water.

And yet the grip was still there, engulfing her limp form in a painfully tight grip.

Always there, just in time to drag her out of her nightmares, the grip was familiar, as was the warmth.

It comforted her, drew her out of the paralyzing terror and heartbreak that always haunted her.

The sounds of water being harshly disturbed punctured through the empty darkness, drawing her more and more aware of her surroundings.

But it was the sound of the voice that had been calling her that reached her the clearest.

It was the voice she wanted to hear most in the whole world.

But even though she still couldn't fully make out the words, she could recognize the tones in his voice.

She had never heard such desperation held in the tones, uninhibited in every sense of the word – She never thought she'd ever hear anything remotely like what there was.

A trembling warmth was pressed against the side of her face.

And then, as she finally recognized the repeated, desperate words he seemed to be saying to her, she managed to open her eyes.

The world was far different to the one in her memories, and to what she last recalled. Even though her vision was horribly blurred, she could still make out features of her surroundings.

It was much darker than she remembered – Blues bleeding into oranges and golds in the skies, and from the chill in the air, she surmised that they were outside.

A familiar form appearing more as a dark silhouette held her propped up with one arm, carefully, as if she would fall apart at any second.

In spite of how hard it was to speak, words tumbled out of their own accord, slightly slurred, as if she was still half asleep.

'I'm sorry ...' She managed to get out, her throat searing from the effort. 'I caused trouble for you again ... didn't I?'

The trembling warmth to the side of her face shifted, upwards to shift her sodden hair out of her face.

It was soothing, comforting, enough so where her eyes slowly drooped shut on her.

'Don't--'

A shuddering breath was taken, and then she felt something gently rest against the top of her head.

'I swear, I'll stuff you with caramel if I ever hear you say that again...'

---=[Authors Notes]=---

Ouch, all that Author Hate in the last chapter T^T My feelings got a little hurt, lol. Just a little, but don't worry. I thought you'd all know by now that I would never leave you all hanging like that for very long? Surely, because it's almost exactly 25 hours later, and I have posted this chapter ^^

Anyways, as I have mentioned to a couple of people, this was a very important key point for Amaya, and I'm sure you can see why, now.

So yeah, onto notes and stuff.

Kesshō no Hana - In this instance, translates roughly as Crystal Flowers, which is written as 結晶の花 in Japanese.

Skeleton Flowers - Yes, they actually exist, and they do go transparent when they come in contact with water - The header image is actually what they look like when they're wet ^^ They're beautiful.

All the best, guys~!

<3 Loki-Rok~!