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- Blossoming Tree -

"Anan."

The little version of Khun Altaira Rain opened the door of the room. The luxurious and wide room that was made just for one person, with one huge bed for her to lie down and rest, a cupboard to keep all her medals and achievements, and many more.

But even though she had lived in luxury and with many achievements, she was still unsatisfied. 

'She always wants to "fly as high as she can", that everything she has in the present seems to be not enough,' Altaira thought as he entered the room. His sister who had noticed him, didn't bother to say a word and continued to tend her wounds.

'That's why she never shed a tear or shouted whenever she is in pain. She believes that even though her body and flesh have been torn and wounded, it's simply a price that she should pay for a higher rank.'

Young Altaira was no longer afraid of blood or corpses. Gradually, dead bodies, organs, bloods, tortures, they were no longer scary. Was it because he was slowly losing his humanity or because he was already used with those sights?

In ease, he helped his sister to tend all her wounds.

"I see that you've learnt to adapt yourself with this cruel reality," she spoke suddenly.

"Is being the best truly matters for you? That you disregard your safety again and again and everything?"

Altaira noticed that Anan suddenly stopped. He felt uneasy and had a strong feeling that she was displeased. And when he gathered the courage just to look at her eyes, when he saw those unhappiness within her cold and predatory blue eyes, he was right.

Those blue eyes were beautiful and terrifying. It was hard to look on his own sister. The air of dominance that she had was colder than his father. Those eyes were definitely the scariest eyes he ever saw.

He was used seeing dying and dead people, but would never be used to see those eyes.

"Altaira."

She called his name and extended her hand. He tried not to close his eyes, as what his sister once said, never show his fear to anyone else. He took it and listened to it as a way to survive within the tower and right now, he was trying not to look away from her. He was trying to prove that he was not a coward. If he failed to prove himself to be courageous, not only he would humiliate himself and wound his own pride, but also, it will be a "shadow" that tainted his sister's glory.

He can't look away.

Her hand was warm, yet in the same time it was really cold. It was really hard to feel the warmness on her touch. She was just like a doll created with flesh and blood just to achieve glory and to suffer on the process.

And worse, she did these all willingly.

Unlike Charlotte whose hand was always warm, every single touch was harmless and affectionate, he felt that her hands were cold and could always take his life anytime and anywhere.

He could feel that her hand touched his head.

"These are for us."

Altaira slowly lowered his head. Now, it wasn't only because of fear that he lowered his head.

'We never asked you to bring so much glory for us. We never asked you to take all the pains for us. Is what lies on the throne so important for you? More than your own life?'

As cold as those hands were, those hands were the hands that kept protecting him, sheltering him.

He never wanted her to disappear. He just wished that she could stop for a moment to enjoy the moment of present before everything was too late.

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