>>5364581“Why?” you ask, Chaya freezing in place as she looks at you. Her head tilts to the side, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“Why? Why what?” she asks you, not understanding your question. So you clarify, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
“Why does it matter? Why do you want to be the 'Dreadzone Champion' so badly?” you ask her seriously. “What is so important about that title?”
“So important?” she asks you, still not getting it. “I thought she was my friend! But she took it away from me and tried to kill me! So now I have to get her back and give her back everything she did to me two-fold!”
“Is that it then?” you ask her, still calm. Which stops her shouting, your daughter again looking confused. “Is it only because she betrayed and beat you that you want it back? Or is it for revenge? She hurt you, so now you're gonna break her?”
“Well, no.” your eldest replies after a moment's thought. “That's not it. Or at least not all of it.”
“So, what then?” you ask her. “Why is the title so important to you?”
“I...I...I don't know.” she says suddenly, the fire in her eyes going out. She slumps down to the floor, legs trembling from the strain of holding her up in the intense gravity for so long. And as you question her, your daughter's focus disappears, and she succumbs.
Chaya drops, you immediately turning from her to the machine and quickly deactivate it. Turning back around, you see your daughter looking down at her hands, which are also trembling slightly as she stays down on her knees.
“Why?” she says, not to you but to herself. “Why does it matter?”
You're about to speak up, but instead decide to keep your mouth shut. She's actually thinking through things, instead of just acting, and you're hesitant to interrupt her. So, you stand over her as your daughter seemingly re-examines her entire life. At least that's what you gather, judging from what you can hear of her muttering. Seeing her lose that fire that had motivated her is hard to watch, but your daughter knowing why she acts and does what she does will be good for her.
“Why does any of it matter?” you hear, and feel your brow raise. “We're all just gonna die anyways, like grandpa did. We all die, so what's the point? Why do I fight?”
“That's...Not what I meant.” you think to yourself, but again don't speak up. She's thinking deeply, completely unaware she's muttering to herself aloud. So, you let her keep going, and find a reason for why she does what she does. And after a few more minutes of her unintelligibly muttering to herself, she finally freezes in place, eyes wide in realization. She then looks up, directly into your eyes, and answers your question.
“Because it's fun.”
cont
