𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙫𝙞𝙙𝙖・tpn

07・promise

♪( 'θ｀)ノ warning- nothing!
—
・3rd pov

"They're taking a lot longer than I'd expected," Willow commented as she finished up dusting the wooden floors, "Wonder what's taking them so long..."

Of course, Willow knows damn well why they're taking long. But hey, it doesn't hurt to act dumb, right? She knew she would look twice more suspicious if she didn't comment on the duo's late arrival.

Ray, who was by her side with a lantern, shrugged.

He already knew the truth behind the orphanage for a long time, but he wasn't willing to keep it a secret in the process. Thus why he wanted his closest friends (being Willow, Norman, and Emma) to be the people he wanted to reveal the secret to.

Unfortunately for him, it seemed like he was going to have to add in a bit more effort when it came to the fellow ravenette who has yet to be given the final reveal of the truth... or so he thought.

Willow on the other hand looked fairly calm as she started to put away her broom from the house's cleaner, but in the inside she was internally panicking, a mental breakdown if you will. You see, the girl was not a good actor— unless all she had to do was pull a non-enthusiastic face, that was as easy as walking to her.

But if you demanded the girl to look surprised or cry on demand, her voice would scream bloody murder in a monotone voice.

To put it blunt, Willow was a horrible actor.

What made it worse was Ray was observant, not as observant as Phil but still extremely observant. She couldn't forget the time where Ray almost figured out about her eidetic memory when they played chess together.

The fact he backed her into an immovable corner with the reasoning of how she was able to know so many strategic moves in a short amount of time was able to make a sweat drop from her head, it was only by pure luck when Isabella walked in to announce lunch.

It was the first time ever since she came to this world where she felt immense pressure and she was not interested in taking the feeling again. It wasn't like she was scared of people finding out about her photographic memory, it's just the fact that it will heighten the chances of people taking advantage of her.

Was she being paranoid? Of course, but caution is of importance in Willow's book.

Before she could say anything else, she heard the chimes of the familiar entrance door opening, revealing Emma and Norman who looked distressed and... panicked.

"Welcome back," Ray greeted to the two. Willow looked at them and nodded, a simple way of acknowledging their presence, "How did it go?"

The duo was silent with the energy of misery surrounding them, Norman being the one to finally break the uncomfortable tension, "We didn't make it on time."

And that was it.

No words were left to be said when they both walked up the stairs back to their bedroom, only to leave Ray and Willow downstairs in 'confusion'. The girl sent an arched brow to the boy which the other responded with shaking his head. Basically, a more simple way of saying 'What the hell happened to them?' and 'Don't know'.

With one last gaze at the stairs where the others were last seen, the two ravenettes finally parted back to their own ways.

Times like these made Willow wonder if Isabella ever felt the feeling of thick chains latching on to her skin— the chains of guilt, just the same as her.

Not like it mattered though.

It wasn't her business anyways.

But that could change.

—

The familiar view of a wooden table, tinted with a dark overtone of ivory and patterned ink. The room was surrounded with paintings of past generation relatives who were once in the same position as those kids in the dining room today, the same shoes.

The atmosphere was thick, though that was to be expected as every family dinner was like this. The same repetitive setting of books, papers, pens, were getting tiring for the children, it was only special occasions like these where their mother will finally host something to do together.

Not like they really wanted to, it was obvious that it was only another way for their birth giver to remind them to live up to their family name... that family comes first.

Quite the irony knowing that she'd punish her children if they get a point off wrong, but family am I right?

The youngest of the bunch sat the closest to their matriarch as she'd shown great promise in her future, the promise that the other children wished to have but was never able to get it no matter how much they tried.

The roads and obstacles they strived for was quickly toppled down by a girl several years younger than them just from the chance of being born with eidetic memory. That in it of itself made them grew a bubbling particle of vexation against the poor girl.

"Visha."

"I was believed that you wanted to announce something tonight, would you care to tell your dear family about it?" The older woman asked, delicately cutting the silver knife against the tender surface of the steak.

The younger girl nodded, "I did, I was accepted a scholarship into a promising academy from one of my tutors who recommended me-"

A boy far older than her, cut her off, "That is to be expected. After all, you are the promise of our family name."

Each word he held onto the tip of his tongue held the leak of unbearable venom, hatred, and disgust towards Visha. Out of all the children in household, it seemed like Andrew was the only one bold enough to call out Visha no matter what she does.

But it didn't matter since she understood, she knew the inferiority her half siblings felt against her. She hated it, yes, but there was nothing she could do about it.

It kinda sucked though, all she wanted was to go back to her bedroom and binge on a few chapters of The Promise Neverland.

"Yes," She retorted quickly, "Afterall, I am the promise of the household."

Basically a quick translation of 'Stop being a salty brat and deal with the fact that your younger sister has a brighter future than you'.

Andrew grunted in response.

The matriarch of the clan cleared her throat, "How kind of you to say, Andrew. I'm sure Visha is very thankful," She eyed the younger, "For congratulating her."

Andrew never congratulated her.

Everyone in the room knew.

But no one dared to say anything to correct the woman.

After all, she too knew the fact that Andrew never congratulated his sister.

Or half sister.

Not like Visha cared.

Not like the other cared.

Visha wanted to go back to her room already.

—fun fact(s) of the day—

・for now, this chapter has the most foreshadowing by far

・willow isn't proud of having photographic memory, but she tries her best to use full advantage towards it anyways.

・there were a total of five people in the dining room

・there's only one head in the household, which is the mother/matriarch of the family. all of the children came from different fathers who are all a part of distinguished families, only the mother knows which is their fathers.