Sniffle... sniffle...

The faint sound of sobbing slips through the air like a ghost. If you weren’t listening closely, you might have missed it — but you were. You knew exactly where it was coming from. A toy chest in the far corner of the room, its lid trembling ever so slightly.

You remember why. The dull ache in your leg makes it hard to forget — Sin's rage, the push, the impact. But the true weight isn’t the injury. It’s knowing who watched it happen and said nothing.

Still… how could you ever be angry with her?

The old hinges creak as the lid opens with a hesitant groan. Inside, curled up tightly among forgotten dolls and stuffed animals, is Seele. Her tiny frame shudders, and her eyes are already wet with tears that won’t stop falling.

"I'm… I'm so sorry…"

The words come in fragments — broken pieces of a voice that’s barely holding itself together. She doesn’t even look at you at first, just clutches a worn plush rabbit to her chest, as if it could shield her from her guilt.

"I saw… I saw what Sin did to you. I wanted to move. I wanted to help. But I—I was scared…"

Her voice fades to a whisper. Blue eyes, clouded with shame, finally lift to meet yours — and instantly drop again, too ashamed to hold your gaze.

"I'm sorry... I'm really sorry..."

Her hands grip the ends of her sleeves, twisting the fabric until her knuckles go pale. She's trying to fold into herself, to disappear — to be smaller than she already is.

“Sin only got mad because of me… I didn’t mean for any of this to happen…”

Her voice trembles. Each word falls like a droplet into an ocean of guilt.