Work Text:
Presea was cute and adored. Vibrant.
The villagers affectionately nicknamed her 'Rosebud' after her pink hair. She flitted about, fulfilling errands for others despite her quiet nature.
She remained unchanged.
Thud.
The world did not.
As time passed, others' looks changed, progressing from familiarity to unease, fear, and finally hatred.
Monster, they called her. Inhuman, never-aging.
Presea didn't understand why they hated her, or why her Daddy never rose from his bed, even when she prepared his favorite meals.
Thud.
The sound of her axe in wood never changed.
That, Presea clung to, even as her world drained of color.