Heavy Is the Head That Wears the Crown

The Cat Who Was Early to the Meeting

"We can run away together.. travel the world together! We'll get to see new sights, Mei..„ A man with slicked back brown hair offered a weak but gentle smile as if to reassure the little girl he was kneeling in front of.

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"Professor, I don't want to leave our home.. Why can't we just stay here..?„ The little girl in question had her head low as she spoke in a vulnerable and frail tone, sounding as if she were pleading.

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"..I want to set the both of us free. I don't think you can fathom just how much of a burden it is to be an Aihara, just how much responsibilities it weighs..„

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"That doesn't change my mind. I want to stay here, where my whole purpose lies..„

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"..then- become worthy of the Aihara surname, Mei.„

A small, trembling hand reached out, attempting to hold onto her father, attempting to prevent him from leaving her.. again.

"PROFESSOR!„

JOLT!

A very out of breath Mei gasped, bringing her hand up to her chest as she clutched a fistful of her shirt, little beads of sweat dripping down from her brow to her cheek.

Once her heart rate and breathing had calmed down to a more normal pace, she turned her head to look over at the alarm clock on her marble bedside table, only for her eyes to land elsewhere..

On the letter right beside it, the one her father had sent her, of which she had reluctantly read halfway through the night before.

"I thought I put that away.."

Was only one of the many thoughts swarming through Mei's head. She thought her head would explode at this rate.

She stopped reading the letters her father would send her.

Or at least, tried to.

It pained her to do so, because it was one of the remaining fragments of her father that she'd find comfort in, but it hurts even more to continue reading them.

Each and every one of those letters never hinted at any sign of her beloved professor coming back to lift his burdens of her shoulders, just like she had been imagining and anticipating for so long.

All she saw was somebody firm in the path they set for themselves.. somebody free. Something she is not.

She's afraid of what other contradictions lay beneath those envelopes. Of what can and will oppose the tiny specks residing hidden within her that still believe her father will come back.

The dark-haired girl brought her feet to the ground then raised herself to walk towards that accursed letter.

She snatched the envelop, tucking away the letter in it, then set it inside the bedside table's drawer.

Soon after she realized she subconsciously put too much force into handling it.. which had became apparent through the envelop′s crinkled-like appearance.

Finally, she tore her attention away from the letter and glanced over at the alarm clock.

6:15AM

A whole 45 minutes before she had to get up and get ready for school..

The student council president pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead, letting out a heavy sigh, a pensive expression washing over her face. She closed the drawer.