𝗦𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗽𝗶𝘁𝘆 || 𝒌𝒑𝒐𝒑 𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒕 ᴮᵒᵒᵏ ¹ [MAJOR REVISIONS👷]

❝ 𝗕𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗶𝗻...❞

[ YEAR < 10 / 2021 > ]

⎯⎯ ୨ THIRD PERSON'S ୧ ⎯⎯

October. Japan. A rare day off.

Kala had planned for today to be one of those quiet, lazy days where she could just lie in bed, lost in the comfort of solitude. She craved the stillness, the absence of expectations weighing on her shoulders. The past few weeks had been relentless—back-to-back performances, grueling training sessions, and late-night missions that left her running on fumes. Just two nights ago, she had barely managed to walk off the stage without collapsing, her body aching from injuries no one could know about. And yet, the moment the cameras were on her, she had smiled, laughed, and performed as if nothing was wrong. She was exhausted in every way possible, and all she wanted was one day where she didn't have to pretend. It wasn't just about physical rest—she needed to silence the constant noise in her mind, the relentless pressure of being Kala the global artist, Kala the athlete, Kala the fighter. Here, in the confines of her hotel room, she could just exist, even if only for a little while. No schedules, no flashing cameras, no intense training—just her and the silence of her hotel suite. It wasn't often she got this kind of break, and she fully intended to make the most of it.

That was the plan, at least.

But the thing about exhaustion was that it didn't just weigh on the body—it crept into the mind, the heart, the very essence of a person. And Kala was starting to wonder if she even remembered what it felt like to be well-rested, to wake up without feeling like she was running on borrowed time.

There was always something waiting for her. A practice, a show, a fight in the underground, a meeting, a mission. And on the rare occasions when she did get time to breathe, the silence didn't comfort her—it suffocated her. It gave her time to think. Time for everything she had been pushing down to rise back up.

Before it sinks in.

But that was the cruel irony of it all, wasn't it? The second she allowed herself to slow down, to catch her breath, the truth would creep in. The doubts. The fears. The weight of every choice she had made, every lie she had told to protect the people she loved.

And what if, one day, it all became too much?

What if she woke up and the exhaustion wasn't just physical anymore? What if she couldn't put on the mask, couldn't keep moving forward?

Because deep down, she knew—she wasn't just tired. She was breaking.

But breaking wasn't an option. Not for her.