**Chapter 1: The Lonely Wait**

I sat on the sofa, my ears covered with my hands, trying to block out the overwhelming sounds of the city outside. The hum of the traffic, the chatter of the pedestrians, and the wail of the sirens in the distance all blended together to create a cacophony of noise that threatened to consume me. As I sat there, my eyes, though blind, seemed to stare into the void, my mind focused on the one thing that brought me comfort - the sound of Hange's voice. As I waited, my heart racing with anticipation, I could feel my anxiety growing. My mind, like a newborn baby's, was unable to comprehend the concept of time, but I knew that Hange was late. He always came home late, and I was left to wait, alone and scared. The memories of my father's abandonment flooded my mind, and I felt a familiar ache in my chest. The door opened, and Hange walked in, his footsteps heavy with exhaustion. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, his voice a gentle rumble that soothed my frazzled nerves. "I'm back... today was pretty busy." He looked at me, his eyes scanning my face, and I could sense his gaze lingering on my smile. "You were waiting for me?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. I nodded, my hands still covering my ears, and Hange's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. But as he looked at me, his expression changed. He glanced at the clock on the wall, and his eyes widened in realization. "I'm sorry, I have to get up early tomorrow," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "I have a meeting at 8, and I still need to review the Johnson files." I knew that Hange had to wake up at 6, and it was already 2:30. He was tired, and I could sense it. But as he said, "I'm sorry, I can't cuddle right now.. I'm too tired and all I want to do is sleep," my heart sank. I felt a wave of panic wash over me, and tears began to stream down my face. Hange's words, usually gentle and soothing, cut deep into my psyche. I was scared, and I didn't understand why he couldn't cuddle with me. The concept of tiredness was lost on me, all I knew was that I wouldn't get the physical comfort I craved. As Hange's words sank in, I felt my mind unraveling. My severe autism spectrum disorder, combined with my blindness and hypersensitivity, made me regress to a state of infancy. I was a lost, scared child, overwhelmed by my emotions and unable to process the world around me. Hange's face contorted in regret as he saw my reaction. He took a step closer, his hands reaching out, but I was already gone, lost in a world of fear and anxiety. My separation anxiety, always simmering just below the surface, boiled over, and I let out a wail of despair. In that moment, I was a newborn baby, scared and alone, with no concept of time or reason. All I knew was that Hange, the one person who was supposed to comfort me, was pushing me away. The PTSD that came with having a mind like a newborn baby overwhelmed me, and I was consumed by a sense of abandonment and fear.