2・origami

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・2nd pov

Your steps along the hallways were quiet, perfectly synced with the maid in front of you who slightly gulped at the air of awkwardness

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Your steps along the hallways were quiet, perfectly synced with the maid in front of you who slightly gulped at the air of awkwardness. Compared to you and their very own leader, the difference between the two were obvious.

At first, the maid believed you were just like Douma— someone who held a kind demeanor but knew their proper formalities in definite occasions. However, as soon as you walked out the door to face her it seemed like your personality switched to a 180.

And it frightened her, how a small child could hold such stances.

With just a few more steps, the both of you stopped at the entrance of which it seemed to be their leader's personal chambers.

The maid bowed, "I'll be on my way, young master."

You only sent her a short nod of acknowledgment before walking in the room. It was similar to the one before except it held more extravagant decoration and a saffron chair at the ends of the room, truly built for the leader of a large cult following.

Your vision moved slightly as it caught a figure similar in your size, a boy. He had short, platinum blonde hair and soft features catering to his enigmatic smile, a crown-like hat adorning his head as to the lavish clothes he wore.

But what seemed to catch your attention the most was his eyes, compared to normal people he held an array of pastel rainbow tones within his iris.

So it is true after all.

"Hm? A vistor?" He asked, walking up to you.

In closer inspection, though you two seemed to be around the same age you were definitely taller than him at best, which caused him to look up to talk to you. Most likely because females normally grow quicker at their age before males do.

He paused before awing, "Oh, wait! You're the son of one of the families my parents are planning to work with, are you?"

"... It seems so."

"I've heard of you," Douma happily hummed besides you, closing his vicinity.

Contrary to his outwardly appearance his eyes felt more dull than the dirty corners of the unkept hallways back at your manor.

You tilted your head in confusion, "Is it because I'm related to my mother?"

The boy shook her head, the grin plastered on his face never failed to leave once at all, "No, not at all! I've heard from many of my followers the great achievements you've accomplished at such a young age, I'm amazed!"

𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠・doumaWhere stories live. Discover now