Humans are social animals.
That's what the textbooks said.
That's what my parents said.
They want others to love and others to love them, they'll do anything to the point where they act in strange ways just to seek validation.
I was number one at school
I built myself up to have no flaws.
I was perfect
I was meant to be perfect.
I was built to be perfect.
No one…
No one ever talked to me
It was like I wasn't even there in the first place.
I learnt that observing a quantum system influences its state and shape, it happens because to measure a quantum property, such as the position or momentum of a particle, you need to interact with it, and this interaction changes the system.
If an object isn't being observed, then it doesn't exist.
The situation was no different for me, I tried whatever I could get no one…..
It seemed like no one noticed me.
[It was always that stupid girl]
[It was always her]
The girl who sang at the talent show. The girl who tripped in the hallway and laughed it off. The girl who posted selfies with a dozen friends.
Sometimes I would just stare at her as I sat alone wondering how it would feel if me and her switched places.
I always stood in the corner, alone.
"Wow, you're amazing Hana!" someone shouted. The whole classroom clapped when she got third place in a prefectural piano recital. Third place.
I clenched my pencil so tight that it snapped.
Not a single person clapped when I ranked first in the entire district's math competition.
The teacher just nodded and had a smile on her face that didn't really reach her eyes, she just said, "Good job, Kira".
I smiled at my parents when I got home, though. I told them school was fun and that I had fun with my friends. I let them hug me and tell me how proud they were.
But I never told them the truth:
That every compliment felt hollow,
That every award felt heavier than the last,
That I was choking on my own achievements because no one else cared.
I couldn't tell them. If they knew, they'd look sad.
And I would rather die than see sadness on their faces.
"Are you happy at school, Kira"?
So I smiled at them.
I said,"I'm happy, I've always been".
My eyes nearly popped out of my head as I gripped my hair.
[A piano recital? That's all it took!?]
"Mom, can we get a piano"?
Her eyes suddenly lit up with a glow.
"Are you finally getting into music"?
[Was I really this petty?]
I stared down at the ground.
"I guess so".
She dashed into me and wrapped her arms around my body.
"Lately you've seemed more distant than usual, I should be happy that you finally want to get into a hobby".
My mother wanted what was best for me.
She didn't even care for the price of the piano.
It was a large white grand piano that sat in the middle of the living room, its sheen glowing under the moonlit sky.
I practiced.
Every single night.
Until my hands were tired.
[Did I really care for music?]
Of course not, I wanted attention from others.
"Hana, congratulations on winning another piano competition! I can't believe that you managed to get second in the junior Higashiyama piano competition".
She smiled, scratching the back of her golden blonde hair.
"Come on, it's not that impressive".
"You're so humble, Hana".
Then came the end of the year assembly.
Hana stood on stage, holding a cheap paper certificate for "Most Spirited Student." The auditorium exploded in cheers. Students stomped their feet. Teachers laughed and clapped along.
"Most Spirited."
A fake award for fake enthusiasm.
[What did she have that I didn't?]
I sat in the front row, my eyes wandering blankly at the stage, my gold medals tucked away in a drawer at home, hidden away from the light.
The bright lights reflected off her hair, she waved like a celebrity, not even glancing at me.
I pressed my nails into my palms until I felt skin break.
I wanted to go up onto the stage and scream that I was here, that I exist, I work harder than anyone here.
That's when I realized that humans don't love you for who you are.
They love you for how you make them feel.
Hana made them laugh. Hana made them clap.
And me?
I didn't do anything.
I just made them look away.
"Congratulations Hana, congratulations on getting number 1 at the regional piano competition".
Hana smiled, while I sat in the corner, staring into her with a deep hatred in my eyes.
I practiced the piano every single day, all of my focus turned to the keys, playing until my arms bled.
Months passed and the day of the city-wide piano competition came up.
I immediately signed up without a second thought.
But without any background or previous wins in piano competition, they were really hesitant to put me in.
They said they'd "make an exception."
They said it like they were doing me a favor.
Like I was a child begging for scraps.
I didn't care, at least I got to compete.
The moment my fingers touched the keys, the sound was mine.
Not Hana's.
Not anyone else's.
The piano wasn't about joy. It was about conquest, to dominate over everyone else. Every note was a sharp blade digging into my own skin. Every chord was a scream that rang out.
I didn't play to move the audience.
I played to kill them.
To choke them with silence until they were forced to see me.
When the last note rang, I looked up, sweat dripping down my face, chest heaving.
Silence.
Then clapping.
Polite.
Measured.
Not cheers.
Not stomps.
Not the thunder Hana always got.
Just clapping.
The judge cleared his throat. "Absolutely flawless," he said, eyes sliding off me like oil. "I could just feel the emotions radiating off every note, like you were trying to swallow all of the audience with your playing".
When Hana's turn came around, her piece seemed lackluster in comparison.
I genuinely smiled for the first time, my eyes widened as sweat poured down my face.
When the results came out, I won.
By a huge mile.
My piece was perfect, yet the trophy in my hand felt meaningless.
What I was more excited about was the friends that I would make at school, the attention that would come to me and the people grovelling at my feet just to become my friend.
The very next day, I arrived at school, my heart beating out of my chest.
I walked into the room with anticipation.
Hanna was crying in the corner, her friends trying to comfort her.
I dropped my bag to the floor and my eyes widened.
I didn't think that it would affect her that much, seeing someone's dreams crushed by my own very hands.
My heart sank to the bottom of the sea, blood rushed into my head as one of the girls around her started to approach me with wide steps, her teeth grinding against each other and her fists clenched as she stared right at me.
"You nameless bitch"! She yelled out loud, as she grabbed me by the hair, gripping onto every strand, I felt as if my entire head would fall off. "I saw you staring at her"! She got close to my face, I could feel her very breath warming up my nose as her pupils dilated. "You ruined her fucking dreams! You crushed her very soul you bitch"!
Her nails dug into my scalp until I thought she'd peel it clean off. I wanted to scream, but my throat closed up. I didn't deserve to scream.
I ruined her dreams because of my selfish desire for companionship, I should've just stayed alone.
The classroom blurred. Every pair of eyes scorched into me.
Nobody stopped her.
Nobody said a word.
Hana didn't even look at me, sobbing alone in the corner.
"I didn't–" I tried to speak, but she yanked harder, silencing me with pain.
"You think this is a game? I know what you were trying to do! You really think that you can be like her!?" Her spit hit my cheek. "You don't even deserve to be in the same room as her."
[What was even the purpose of my victory?]
Finally, she shoved me down with a thud, my knees cracked against the floor, opening up a wound. My perfect hands, the ones I had trained on ivory keys until they bled, were now pressed against the dirty tile that sat on the floor.
The teacher didn't step in.
The class didn't move.
When she returned to Hana's side, they wrapped around each other. The sobbing got louder. Consoling voices filled the air.
And me? I just sat there on the floor, invisible again.
That night, I stared at the piano in the living room. The white sheen mocked me, glowing like the moon through the window. My reflection on the lid looked warped, unfamiliar.
My fingers hovered above the keys, trembling. I couldn't bring myself to play.
[What if.. none of this ever happened?! What if I never asked mom for a piano? What if I never existed in the first place?]
I thought about smashing the keys, breaking the instrument until it screamed like I wanted to.
But I didn't.
I just sat there in silence, my chest tightening, my nails digging into my own arms as I drew blood.
For the first time, I wished I hadn't won.
I smiled at home.
Every evening was the same ritual. I would set my bag down neatly, wash my hands, and greet my parents with the brightest grin I could fake.
"How was school?" mother would ask, her voice tinged with hope.
"It was great, everyone's still talking about the piano competition."
"That's my girl. I knew all your practice would pay off."
I had to laugh, tell them stories about school that I made up, false admiration.
Every single lie made mom's smile brighter and every lie made dad's eyes glisten with pride.
It hurt.
A lot.
But I rather burn alive than let them see the ashes of the truth.
School was different.
The moment I stepped into the classroom, the whispers started. Eyes slid away from me.
"She's the reason Hana cried," someone muttered.
"I heard she begged to enter that competition," another added.
"She just wanted to show off."
I finally got the attention I wanted.
But I didn't want this.
I didn't want this negativity surrounding me.
The moment I lost it was when dad died.
He was a nightguard, at least that's what he told me.
Apparently, he also worked as a high ranking official in a prominent syndicate of rogue witches known as the Leviathans.
[I didn't even know he was a witch]
I wanted to kill myself.
They killed him, right in front of me.
The government killed him just because he was in some silly little gang.
I remember it vividly.
The sensation of his blood on my fingertips.
It was the night my world collapsed.
I didn't even scream.
I couldn't.
The blood in my throat drowned my voice before it ever left my lips.
They didn't give me time to mourn. My mother's sobs were cut short, her arms torn from me as if grief itself was a crime. The government–the protectors of our nation, stripped the last strand of hope I had from me.They dragged me out of the home like luggage. No explanation. No kindness. No pause.
"You're his daughter," they said.
As if that was a curse.
As if that was all I was.
I wasn't Kira anymore. I wasn't even a person. I was mana. A resource. A vessel.
Magic techniques are no different from martial arts, with enough time, they can be learnt if your body is of the correct mana type, the sole exception being mutations which cannot be learnt and are unique to each bloodline.
Those who possess the mana type of intangibility can learn intangible magic techniques
Those who possess the mana type of tangible creations can learn tangible magic techniques
Those who possess the mana type of elemental control can learn elemental magic techniques
According to the theory of the conservation of energy—energy cannot be created or destroyed.
Yet witches pull out more energy than a human can possibly contain within their bodies.
Mana is the energy of the soul, an energy that no machine can extract.
Those who fail the entrance exam to Hex Academy are used as living batteries, forced to learn a special magical technique that draws out the maximum energy that they contain within their bodies, extracting mana until they were on the brink of death.
[At least I managed to pass, even if I had to kill others for my sake. I'm being selfish again, am I not?]