Okay first, you shut your face with that story, Makoto Kino, I do not need extra help from you, you are doing quite enough on your own without trying.
Second, “that clock”.
THIS VERY CLOCK.
This is THE SAME EXACT CLOCK that hung in Mako’s mother’s kitchen when she was baking delicious stuff for little Mako. Where it was warm and everything smelled delicious, and Mako knew that all of that was happening just for her. And her mother was sharing stories with her, and tickling her whenever she felt like Mako’s smile wasn’t quite as smiley as it COULD be.
Mako sitting on a little stool, much like these for the cats, watching her mother cook with love, and feeling that need to express herself the same way beginning to bloom.
Mako with her own little plate of chocolate chips, to keep her wandering hands out of the main supply.
Mako, breaking my heart.