[47th replay]

[ The kite called "Furude Rika" has crashed. With her recent death, Rika has found it hard to act like "Furude Rika". As it's been before, throwing that kite in the air and getting it to sail is difficult. Realizing it's a pointless thing to try, she's locked herself in her bedroom for the past two days. Come Friday morning, she will be on her third day of missing school.

While enjoying her usual soothing cup of wine, Rika accidentally knocks the phone off of the hook. The voice speaking is low; both in pitch and volume, as she half-whispers to herself at night. ]

[ phone - frederica / low voice ]
--- but that's how it is. I must have truly forgotten how it is to be 'her'. Even though 'she' once experienced her first death as well, I've long forgotten what shock 'she' felt when waking from her first death.

I was feeling so well before. I was playing the part perfectly... no, I wasn't even 'playing' it anymore, that was truly me... It only hurts when it is someone I knew dearly that fell, as opposed to the "Furude Rika" I treated like a far off concept. [ she sighs and takes a sip of her drink, then speaks in less of a whisper. ] It's foolish of me to wish I could return to that hopeful spot, perched at the top of the well. At the very least, I can count on the moments of peace between these days of chaos.