♫~Notes 08~♫

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 With the closing hour, Freya left with Mr

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 With the closing hour, Freya left with Mr. Smith-san, waving each other goodbye. The Greek Myths made her bag heavier, but it was one pear lighter.

Inside the bus, the red-haired girl checked her backpack from the outside. There was no difference. She swayed her head. 'Silly me. Somebody pranked me. That pear can't be magical.'

Taking out the book from Mr. Smith-san, she listed the story of the Trojan War. She only needed to read the first page to recognize the uncanny resemblance.

'Their rewards were the same... in a way.' A frown spread across her forehead and around her nose, wrinkling her freckles. 'But why? This seems so childish.'

She skipped a few pages, reading only descriptions under the pictures, portraying the scenes and a few paragraphs.

'Am I going to meet Herakles or Achilles too?' She groaned. 'This is crazy but... familiar too.' She peeked outside, noting she was nearing her bus station.

She returned the volume inside, seeing no pear. Feeling better, she closed it and hummed a simple melody. The only tune she could sing without turning into gargling and coughing mess. In her room, she placed the bag on the table, taking out the book to read the rest of the story.

A screech came from her throat as she grabbed the cursed fruit. Veins popped behind her eyes, and she threw it at her bed, striking a plush jester.

With "ugah", she plunged into the bed, shoving the pear away. 'I'm so sorry!' Her watery eyes examined the old toy. Its red and white polka-dotted body remembered cleaner days, and threads covered its cheeks, feet, and hand holes, keeping the stuffing inside.

She squeezed the jester against her chest and pulled her dad's photograph closer. No matter how many times kids laughed at her for her ginger hair or freckles, this plushie gave her strength. Not even thunders crossing the dark sky or vaccine shots scared her when she hugged it.

Her father beamed at her from the photograph, sending her a positive message. But this anxiety might be too much for it. Her sad smiled turned into a glare, observing that stupid pear on her floor. Her grip over the plushie strengthened.

'Is that thing cursed?'

She put the plush back, picking a ruler from her bag before approaching it. The girl tapped the fruit, jerking her hand as if it could burn her. Nothing happened even after the seventh poke, so she touched it with her finger.

The icy surface remained the same as before. The smooth surface reflected the light, and the embossed text "The Best" laughed into her face. She was aiming to be the best. So strong nobody and nothing would intimidate her.

No matter what hardship would throw her life upside down, she vowed to herself to never grieve. In the timeless words of her late father, "As long as you keep your head high, you can't overlook the good things around you."

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