Third Person: When most people saw their reflection in a window, they saw themselves, looking right back at them. When Dr. Atsuko Chiba caught her reflection in the window, it… wasn’t always hers.
It was Paprika, smiling back at her. Atsuko often wondered if she was going crazy, like her patients. Paprika would shaker her head at that, though. “You’re not crazy, I’m just another part of you. You know that!”
But was she? Paprika was important, true. She was exceptionally skilled at navigating dreams, more so than any of the other psychologists working on the DC Mini project. Not only that, she was a talented analyzer of dreams, making her perfect for the job. Still, Atsuko worried. She worried about herself.
Paprika never worried, though. She seemed almost perpetually cheerful. She was more interested in exploring the dreams of her patients and helping them to heal their minds than she was in the metaphysical implications of her existence. There was no point in worrying about that, in her opinion. It was just the way it was.
Atsuko knew she didn’t have time to worry about her own problems, real or imagined, not with the DC Mini project in full swing. It was vitally important that she—and Paprika—prove that the DC Mini was not only extremely useful, but actually essential to the effective treatment of mentally disturbed patients.
Dr. Atsuko Chiba and Paprika | Paprika | 4/4
It was Paprika, smiling back at her. Atsuko often wondered if she was going crazy, like her patients. Paprika would shaker her head at that, though. “You’re not crazy, I’m just another part of you. You know that!”
But was she? Paprika was important, true. She was exceptionally skilled at navigating dreams, more so than any of the other psychologists working on the DC Mini project. Not only that, she was a talented analyzer of dreams, making her perfect for the job. Still, Atsuko worried. She worried about herself.
Paprika never worried, though. She seemed almost perpetually cheerful. She was more interested in exploring the dreams of her patients and helping them to heal their minds than she was in the metaphysical implications of her existence. There was no point in worrying about that, in her opinion. It was just the way it was.
Atsuko knew she didn’t have time to worry about her own problems, real or imagined, not with the DC Mini project in full swing. It was vitally important that she—and Paprika—prove that the DC Mini was not only extremely useful, but actually essential to the effective treatment of mentally disturbed patients.
Self-analysis would have to wait.