I am currently reading the book 'The Uncrowned King'.
Roughly speaking, it is a book detailing the death and aftermath of a monarch, leading to the decline of an entire generation.
I enjoy it immensely. I usually read it in the classroom whenever everyone else goes outside to play.
Suddenly, I catch sight of a peculiar figure standing at the classroom doorway.
That person carries a pungent perfume scent of grape guava, a type of fragrance where even if standing ten meters away, one would still be forced to cover their nose.
A person with dark blue hair styled slicked back, a display of arrogant ostentation lurking within those eyes.
Hands where bulging veins show subtly in the shadows, yet completely devoid of calluses.
On the contrary, the soft curves of his hands indicate they are looked after remarkably well.
The outfit worn is a simple looking suit, yet the stitched patterns upon the fabric appear random while invisibly forming a light blue octagonal symbol.
A walk full of bravado, yet exceedingly slow, unlike that of common folk, neatly trimmed eyebrows, lips coated with glossy lip balm, and the manner in which the tie is knotted to show off a exquisite line of details, hardly resembling an ordinary person.
In a brief moment, the strange person reaches a hand into his pocket, feels around, and pulls it out, like someone checking on something.
A noble, Ron thinks.
The figure with dark blue hair looks at me and shakes his head, his face resembling a Shisa dog raised by the orphanage.
When that figure leaves, I immediately stand up to follow, because whenever I tag along behind the teachers, they usually smile and give me candy to eat.
I follow him down a long corridor. I am trembling slightly, because the hallway is flooded with sunlight, as this is the pathway leading toward the headmaster's room.
I am always terrified of Mr. Haller, the headmaster, because he strikes me whenever an opportunity arises.
Yet I tell my heart 'Do not fear', I will simply pick myself up just like when I fell down the stairs.
I sprint straight to the door, where only a sliver of light peeks through the crack.
Inside, two different people are arguing incessantly, as if preparing to murder each other.
One voice belongs to old Haller, the other belongs to the stranger.
I hide by the edge of the door, waiting for something. Yet a thunderous sound strikes my ears, forcing me to clutch my head.
"You bastard!!! She is merely a child, A CHILD WHO JUST AWAKENED HER CORE. Please, she will die!"
"I am not telling her to go die! I am saying I want her, Emma, to become my adopted child, and she will be protected under the Crystal house."
"How is that any different!? She will be forced onto the battlefield, and then die!"
"She will die because of YOUR FOOLISHNESS FIRST!!!!"
"You people are the ones resolving military affairs in Agler city, so piss off back there!! The last time I served in the military, you generals were busy sleeping with women and fucking slaves in mansions at the heart of the army!"
"And without us, this country would have perished long ago! So shut up!"
"You dog, you merely treat human beings as tools! How peaceful this world would be if high command bastards like you did not exist; Five Fingers or the Circle or whatever are just scum taking a shit on the heads of the people!"
"Precisely because mentally deficient fools like you exist can morality be used to define yourselves! You people are not intelligent or backed enough to escape that code of ethics! Go drown in your ignorance, you ORPHAN headmaster!"
"Ha, you people always believe etiquette defines class, right?!! THAT MORALITY IS THE PRIVILEGE OF THE STRONG, YOU BRAINDEAD DOG?!!"
...
To congratulate someone leaving the orphanage, we usually throw a party to bid them farewell.
The day they depart also serves as a birthday for them, distinct from the birthday recorded when they were admitted to the orphanage.
Inside the orphanage dining hall, around thirty people sit waiting around a spotless white dining table, awaiting the two most important individuals to arrive.
Since this is merely a small orphanage, there are only about five staff members who serve as helpers, teachers, and nannies, and they are busily bringing out food.
Yet even when the food has gone cold, neither the headmaster nor Emma are anywhere to be seen.
"...Apologies, I need to attend to a matter."
Lunas feels somewhat restless, standing up to head toward the restroom, though I suspect that is not the case.
It is just, well, I do not think I ought to overthink it.
Today is a joyful day, is it not? And we ought to focus on the candle atop the cake rather than other things.
And has anyone ever mentioned that when we focus on a flame, it grows that large?
...
How strange, on that day the moon was far too peculiar.
It resembled a human curling up inside a blood red eyeball, as individual nerve strands intertwined like a web.
It was black, it was red, it was white, and it cried, its tears turning into thousands of snowflakes blanketing the world in white.
And I, did I cry?
Not really, I am too foolish.
Instead, I felt far more overwhelmed, because for the first time in my life, I stared at the moon for so long.
And it was so beautiful.
I am unable to describe it.