Lenora never met her real parents and the family that adopted her died in a terrible accident, leaving her to grow up with the sweet old couple who lived next door, who were more than happy to have the little 6 years girl to raise.
Despite her new...
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Monoma was fronting Lenora with a big question mark painted on his face.
"I don't understand..."
"You do, Monoma."
"No, I don't. 'Cause if I'd actually understood well what you just told me, what I am thinking shouldn't even be an option!", he rubbed his face, pulling his blonde locks out of stress.
Len exhaled, dragging her feet to where the boy was seated, crunching down in front of him, and placing her hands on his shoulders, "Look at me."
"No."
"Monoma."
"Stop, this is madness."
"Monoma, please."
"You're asking me something I can't do, Lenora."
"If I'm asking you this is because I have faith in you and your power," she caressed his shirt's sleeves, "and also, you're the only one I know would think objectively about this."
It was true, Monoma was the right person to do that, or at least he was once. He was at the start of the year, he was before meeting his classmates, he was before his confrontation with Lenora, he was before their partnership became a friendship, he was before. Before. Not anymore.
"Lenora, I..."
"I know what you're about to say," she took off her hands from him, hugging her knees, "this plan is crazy, precarious, and involves high risks, but I will always activate it only in desperate times. If things will go as the Pros will program, then we won't need to use it! It's just a possibility I don't want to put aside. It could help! We could save everyone!"
"Yeah, but at what cost?", he snapped at her, raising his head, "I don't want to trade lives!"
He was thinking with his heart, not his head.
Logically, that plan was a good one, a great one even; it was the perfect occasion to have another chance in case they were found in a disadvantageous position.
But personally, he didn't want to agree. He couldn't. How could he? Not after everything she told him.
"I hate to insist, but I need you to understand my point of view," she tilted her head, smiling softly at him, "this rune would blast life, quirks can be amplified, this is salvation! Protection even! Together we can give heroes the right push to keep fighting! It's hope!"
Hope.
The rune she was talking about was hope.
That's what she chose to call it.
Why?
Why that word?
Why such an evocative name when its power was so different from it?
"Please, I want you to think about it," she stood up, "tomorrow I'll be back here. Same time as always. If I won't find you here, I'll have my answer. But if you'll show up, then the path is sealed."
