Ayaka felt nothing.
The pain had become an old companion, numbing her senses as her body curled inward from another brutal strike.
Her mind wavered between consciousness and darkness, yet she didn't resist. She had learned long ago that fighting back only made it worse.
'If I don't react, they'll get bored. They'll stop.'
The metallic taste of blood spread across her tongue, but she forced herself to swallow it down. She had survived this before. She could survive it again.
Haruto will come… He always does…
But then—
The tearing sound of fabric ripped through the air, and cold fingers yanked at her shirt. A fresh wave of terror crashed over her, and before she could stop it, tears slid down her cheeks.
'Haruto… help me.'
But the abuse stopped. Their laughter turned to silence.
Through her dazed vision, she saw a shadow standing in the doorway. The light from outside made it hard to see, but she knew. She knew that figure.
Haruto.
