——— neither a hero nor a villain.

from the moment you were born, your life has been predestined. you are to grow mature, to be independent and capable of doing things on your own without relying on anyone. you are to become the ace of the whole family, you are to be an example of all future generations to come, and you will live as the legacy of the golden throne. out of all these, only one prophecy happens: that you are capable of doing things on your own without relying on anyone.beyond that, you’re chattier than most. not a loner, merely adjusting in the flow. you are not afraid of confrontations and honesty, for that is all you learn and what makes you flawed in the eyes of your own mother. too much trouble-inducing, you heard her say once. you are too hard on yourself, sometimes. you pursue to make up for the lost time and yet you still do not give yourself a rest for it. you try to be amiable towards people you recognize and perhaps there are times when your nerdy side raises from the dead—but one would call you … intense. mostly. depends on how people meet you, you suppose.

you like learning. you are passionate. you question the intricacies of the world and its beauty. you like the exploration of researching and seeking for life and you find the crimson that stain under your skin be rubbed away almost instantly, albeit obviously not—you do it because it is liberating. in a sense, this is your own way of rebelling, your will remade under an iron forge, and this time, that forge belongs to you, and you have the key to unlock the said forge. you forced half your life to be under someone’s cauldron, and now you moved under your own will to read things you like and not the countless mind-numbing books.the hero of this story is you, kaira zakharova. you are built upon caskets that you do not desire. your skin is buried under ashes that you do not recognize, yet the only thing you know —— is that your dream that you carefully sustain over years live on. your dream, as a little bird, has now bloom like the summer camellia over the sunset of that grand mansion.

there’s a lot you enjoy doing. you enjoy a teatime with fellow scholars to learn more about perspectives. you enjoy collecting books of your favorite subjects and display it according to color. each of them you mark with tape, cat for to-be-read and dog for the books you decided to reread one day. you enjoy the smell of the countertops and the stacks of paper of a certain area after a long and thorough research. you enjoy a lot of things. you do not enjoy a lot.you do not like staying on a dark room —— but you like to enjoy the breeze under the tree. you enjoy the sight you explore and you enjoy people-watching under the same tree. you do not like spicy things. you could not tolerate people who acts holier-than-thou, although nothing pisses you more than someone who spiels what they think yet not even once stop to consider their partner’s mind. you despise people who spits on the memory of what one book holds; as you think all knowledge is worth pursuing.

you keep your trinkets for the whole world to see. you keep the notes from when you were younger and you keep the things you tried to make to make as bribes for other people right atop of your notes. you stack dried flowers on important pages, habits learned from an old family who taught you that reading is not merely reading: but understanding the points. you keep a note of your beloved people’s favorites, yet the book only have three names written.the villain in this story is you, kaira zakharova. you are a myriad of people before you, each of them building a piece of your tower unfil it grows as tall as you are now. they stack each piece for you, for you to witness and careful hug in your arms. their memories, sacrifices, love and kindness — have you took them for granted, kaira? have you not once remember where these habits came from?

from the moment you were born, your parents called you attentive. an excellent speaker and an excellent listener. you observed and watched everything and writes stories of what you think. you are worthy to become an heir, they say. observant and having the willingness to speak your mind. you are put into watch, and ever since then, attention has become a friend of yours —— like a cup of tea on sunday noon.attention is a double-sided coin, you think. you think this because when you managed to get attached to a certain cartonic book regarding folktales when you were five, your father snatches it out of your hands and burns it in front of your eyes. a waste of time, you remember him saying. you should have focused on what matters, instead of some silly books of tales. you are relentless, and you take yet another book regarding the stars and once again your father rips it apart. this time, you are told to pick up the pieces and places it on the fireplace.you don’t, and you remember the grim darkness of the guest room and your constant wailing with apologies. you do not read your books regarding the egyptians history in front of your father, this time, but you read it on the silent corner of your own room.attention is a double-sided coin, you think. you think this because your mother cannot stand your explorations outside the garden. foolish, you once hear her say. what is that kid even looking for? all her world is here, what is there to seek? wrong, you remember thinking. the world’s expanse is much more than this grand mansion filled with flowers and beautiful trinkets —— people. mostly. people are outside there for her to learn.you sneak out once again after the third warning, your legs that were silky smooth turns into marks of blemishes. you get smarter in sneaking outside instead, bribing anyone, everyone involved in your little escapade as a life trick you learn from your dear father.attention is a double-sided coin, you think. you think this because every time you reached out for your brother, your grandmother reaches a hand behind your back. she pulls you by the collar and told you need to study. your brother —— he was the only one you cannot reach. the one you cannot learn and cherish, and that is, on its own, breaks a part of your heart. you do not try enough, and there’s some part of you that finds it slightly … painful.

attention is a double-sided coin, you think. you think this because with the appearance of a girl with white hair and red eyes, you are no longer observed in your movements. you explore lands and open books as many as you can and swallow it under the golden lamp of your room study desk. you travelled the seas, bare the desserts, yet at times, you felt lonely in your behavior —— attention, you think, is both a blessing and curse to those who receive too much of it and too less of it.however, you are now free. if the connection between you and your parents shattered due to your pursuit, you are willing to stand alone — for what interest you the most is first, and foremost, people and their world.the protagonist is you, kaira zakharova. you are what they used to call a legacy, loved and loving, shackled and desiring to be free. you are neither good or evil, yet you are passionate of the little stars that takes place in this world. that, they deemed as something they do not want. they throw you away like a chewed gum with bitter aftertaste, and you, the one who wants to wear lily-tangled crown ——— is blessed beyond measure.