Figma Nico Yazawa is torn between the unparalleled joy of being my absolute favorite figure that gets the lion’s share of the attention and adoration...
...and the overwhelming horror and disgust of an obese, smelly, hairy manchild who sings her songs off-key while trying (and failing) to sound like her as he nearly hamhands her daily to ‘play’ with her.
She puts on a fake, cheery smile and does her signature ‘Nico Nico Nii!’ when the other toys ask if she’s really alright, lying through her teeth about how great it is to be the favorite toy and putting on a show of pride at being a super idol-figure.
She quietly debates in her plastic head if this is what being a super idol (toy or real) really entails, wondering if there exists a better life as a toy that will still get the attention and admiration she craves. She sees my model kit supplies and the still-full bottle of acetone, contemplating ending it all when I leave the house to buy more Nico merchandise across town at the nearest anime store, wondering if I’ll try to salvage her, and if successful, how my patchwork would even look or feel.
Will it hurt to live? Will I cave and throw her out, ensuring a true death? Or will I characteristically make a coffin and bury her in my yard, forcing a slow death of plastic degradation onto her in the delusion of ‘honoring’ her?