Seeing this girl makes me irked. How she seems to remind me of someone. Her blind hope makes me displeased. I try not to show it, but it seems that it comes through.

  I smile—my eyes say so otherwise, probably. I should probably change my attitude pertaining to this, that guy might use it against us.

  Her face vexes me—such a bright smile. I can’t stand it, but I persist.

  I wish to understand her, but it seems my own misgivings might push me away. I might not understand her but aren’t we peers?

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  So I wish to—I shall bridge this gap.

  I may regret it, still I need to—after all, are we not the same?

  I ask my guide to allow some time for us alone. I insist. He takes the naive girl’s guide and shows him through the door.

  I take her hand and can only show what I’ve heard off before. An exchange of mana—one we have an infinite amount off, to show my goodwill.

  A gesture than only we could do and achieve. The dialogue of feelings and our memories.

  I hope my thoughts came across well, even with the massacre, the hardships, and myself.

  I let go. I expect the worst reaction—I should know.

  But all I see in her eyes are understanding—I try to smile.