When it became obvious that the repeating memory in his room couldn't be stopped, the most he could do was try to lock the room and hope that no one would hear the crying, terrified child inside.

After all, no matter how much that child cried out for help... the result was always the same, wasn't it?

Haha.

There's an aching feeling of guilt, and the memory of that room is still replaying in his head. He needs to do something to calm his nerves. His cooking skills haven't improved any, but he could at least make some hot chocolate.

He shakily pulls out a pot, and as he does so a few other pots fall out and clatter to the floor. He kicks it away in frustration.

"It's so stupid!"