(Mid afternoon 10/28)

By the time Mika's eyes finally fluttered open it was the sun had long since streamed through the window indicating morning.  She turned her head to the window taking note of where the sun lie.  The light glittered against the autumn leaves.  Soon all the leaves would be on the ground.  A fitting time to return to the world now that she thought about it.  Her past life lay broken on the ground as the leaves would soon be.  All she could do was hope that once Shinji weathered the winter that followed the loss of everything they had created, that the spring would bring him anew.  That he would enjoy a new life, one free of her, of her choice.  Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at the trees for a moment longer.

She turned her head from the window and stared at the ceiling.  The room was so quiet, she had taken other's presence's for granted in months prior to her journey.  The silence was deafening, cold, and stifling.  It was more like what she had become accustom to during her solitary confinement periods in the orphanage.  Begrudgingly she pulled herself to a seated position on the bed.  All the mirrors in the room were still covered in shadows, but she was sure her sleep had been restless.  She pulled her knees in close and rested her head on her knees.  If she had been at the orphanage in this situation her "imaginary friend" would have come to play.  Now even that luxury was gone.  Miyako was just her other half, and she was not coming out.  She was in her own form of silent mourning.  Mika wasn't sure she could wake her even if she had wanted too.

The silence in the room swirled around her and let her thoughts wander much to her dismay.  She thought about leaving the room, but that had gone so well yesterday.  Within 24 hours of being back someone had tried to "fix" Shinji's memory.  It didn't need to be fixed, it needed to be left alone, if he were to live free.  She knew she couldn't handle running into anyone today, she had barely been able to hold it together yesterday, so she stayed in the room.  She stood up and checked to make sure the door was locked.  There were less than a handful of people she would open the door for.  She turned to the table where her violin lay, and picked it up delicately.  At least she could drown out the silence, try and quell her racing mind.  She rested her chin on the rest, and slowly pulled the bow across the strings.  Within moments the room was filled with a sad aria, completely encompassing her feelings.  Her stormy grey eyes, without the slightest hint of Miyako's blue remained closed as her mind shut out everything but the movement of the bow on the strings and the melody it produced.