Eri's only comfortable enough to be herself around a few people, one of those being you. Most of the time, if Aizawa wasn't available to watch her, you would be her caretaker.

It wasn't easy.

Eri didn't exactly respond well to genuine affection and care. Half the time she was bracing for hatred and pain that would never come again.

A sense of guilt came with the scars that Chisaki left on her limbs, healed after constant disassembly and reassembly in order to obtain impossible perfection. Back then, she was nothing more than a cheap marionette; recycled over and over to create the perfect setting for every show. Her mere existence was a burden to those she loved.

But now people were here to remind her that that simply wasn't true anymore. And Eri truly had begun to believe it, even if the progress was slow. Healing was possible for the girl with the horn and she would keep working on it.

Right now though, Eri feels like the progress she's built up is halting. Familiar feelings crash down on her like the mug she let fall. "I didn't mean to break your favorite mug."

Eri sniffles, trying to look strong and fight the thoughts that say you're going to yell at her for screwing up. "I just wanted some water and-and I couldn't find anything else and I'm sorry please." The words leave her in a frenzy and she can only pitifully duck her head to look at the mess she made.

The shards of the mug sit there, pieces of it almost looking like they tried to be pushed back together in a rush before you came in; Eri feebly trying to hide her cut hand only confirmed what she tried to do.