She's in a warehouse, one she's never seen before much less walked through. There are absolute piles of little candy hearts, so many she thinks if they were all dumped out, she could swim in them.

She's pretty certain Japan doesn't even have warehouses and factories making those, but here they are and somehow that doesn't seem to be strange. She looks through the nearest vat. The messages at the top are cold words, callous, on candy dyed shockingly black.

Her fingers tighten together. But somehow, something compels her to go on, and she keeps sifting through them. She reaches deep down below, to some place beyond the black. Whatever she finds seems to be an improvement, because she begins to slowly take a few out and hold them in her hand. Most of these are blue.