Chiyuki made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen. A woman with long black hair stood facing the stove at the opposite wall. The sun shone in through the window, filling the room with warmth.

"Hi, Mom," she said, feeling an overwhelming surge of affection.

The woman at the stove turned. Lines of age were just barely visible on her face, but they didn't do anything to mar her natural beauty. She had aged gracefully, and the crinkles around her eyes spoke of many years spent smiling.

"Good morning, my beautiful daughter," she said happily. "How is your knee feeling to-"

She was cut off as Chiyuki crushed her in a tight and sudden embrace.

"S- sweetie? Are you alright?"

Chiyuki didn't let go, and took a few more breaths to compose herself. "Yes, Mom. I just- I feel like I haven't seen you in a really long time."

In truth, she also felt an incredible sense of sorrow and regret- but she couldn't determine why.

Her mom was quiet for a while. Chiyuki was content to be still and let the older woman stroke her hair. When she finally spoke, her mom answered, "Your father and I have been so worried about you lately. Ever since your accident, you...you haven't been yourself."

With her words, Chiyuki recalled the night before- even though that, too, seemed like it had happened so long ago-when she had tearfully banished her poor mom from the room.

"You know, I loved watching you skate, Chiyuki...but what made me happiest was seeing you grow up as fine as you have."

"No, I haven't...Just...get out."

She'd been so distraught, she herself wasn't sure what she would have done if she hadn't cried herself to sleep.

Chiyuki pulled away and opened her mouth. "Mom, I-"

Her mom started to babble, tightening her grip on Chiyuki's shoulders. "We know you're not quite ready to talk about your feelings yet. We just want you to know how much we love you and that we'll be proud of you no matter what, even if you never skate again. You're so much more than a skater, Chiyuki," she shook her gently. "You're our beautiful, strong, intelligent, and kind daughter. You have your whole life to find something else you love. You have so much more to look forward to, and we'll be here for you whenever you need us."

Chiyuki's lip quivered. Her voice was watery when she replied, "I know, Mom. I...I'm so sorry. You're right. I'm going to do everything I can to get better. I love you so much."

Her mom had teared up a little. They embraced tightly again. An enormous weight was cast off Chiyuki's shoulders, like something unspeakably horrible had been avoided.

Over the course of the next few days, Chiyuki spent as much time with her parents as possible, whether it was going to the grocery store, accompanying them on walks, or helping them in the garden. Her wounded heart, tender from the crushing disappointment at the repercussions of her fall, began to heal piece by piece.

But that persistent feeling of something wrong- something missing- never left her.

And her doll stayed lost.

Sometimes, she would wake in a cold sweat, still lacking memory of whatever dream tormented her. These moments were coupled with a fierce longing, so extreme that it would burn a hole in her chest and leave her helpless to drown under waves of agony.

But as severely painful as these moments were, so were they also fleeting.

Within seconds, the feeling would be gone, leaving only a dull ache. As she lay and double checked to make sure she hadn't actually been set on fire, she'd frustrate herself further by her inability to remember.

But then, he came.