I was trying to isolate myself in my own world.
Spoon → soup → half-destroyed page → repeat the cycle.
Small steps toward a greater goal: figuring out whether the words in front of my face meant "ancient decorated gate" or "a massive ship appeared in the green sky of a city inhabited by war bears armed with towels."
Both were perfectly valid options, but that green sky didn't quite convince me.
I was still lost in my thoughts when—
"Found you."
I paused for a moment, unsure how to proceed, but that moment of reflection was really just a lie I told myself: I didn't have much of a choice.
In front of me, hands resting on the edge of the table—sorry, Bob—stood Viola.
Light brown hair completely messy, big bright eyes, a smile so innocent and warm it could melt snow, and practically unlimited energy.
Arthur and Rayan focused all their attention on me, with absolutely no intention of stopping what was about to happen.
Traitors.
Viola looked at me like she had finally found her favorite toy again.
"Kian…"
"…can I?"
No.
No means no.
Absolutely not.
Today I'll be strong. Kian, you're a man, not a—
"…okay."
…
I'm weak.
Viola smiled even wider—which I didn't think was physically possible—and walked around the table.
In less than three seconds she was already sitting on my lap, incredibly satisfied with herself. Did I mention I'm weak?
Maybe it was just my imagination, but I could swear I heard a creaking sound coming from Bob, as if he were mocking my moral weakness.
Now let's clarify something. It wasn't that Viola only had this effect on me. Except for a few cases I could count on one hand, I had never seen anyone in the entire village refuse one of her requests.
The problem was me. I wasn't very sociable with the other kids, aside from particular cases like my two roommates and Rita; I was lazy, I didn't like sharing my things, I wanted my personal space… those were just a few traits that described me. I also had many good qualities, but we won't be discussing those for now.
Back to the point: in short, seeing a recluse like me listen without resistance to every whim of a little girl like Viola was, according to everyone else, extremely entertaining.
The even bigger problem? In all her tenderness, Viola mistook everyone's laughter for happiness.
In her head, the reasoning was simple: whenever she talked to me, everyone laughed.
If everyone laughed, they must be happy.
And if they were happy… she had to talk even more with Kian to make everyone even happier.
Objectively, it was an adorable logic—I admit it, even my heart had melted—but that didn't improve my current situation. Not that I hated it; it was just… different. Anyway, let's focus on something else.
"Comfortable?" I muttered.
"Mhm!"
Instant reply, same smile. Ah, my heart.
Arthur was clearly trying not to laugh and spit out all the soup in his mouth.
"Do you perhaps want to say something, Arthur?"
He swallowed the soup with some effort and replied:
"No, no. I'm just fascinated by observing the power hierarchy in a master-servant relationship."
I ignored him gracefully. Viola wasn't my master; it's just that if she asked me for anything, I would—
Wait. That did sound like a master-servant relationship.
Then Viola leaned forward, her eyes already fixed on the book in my hands.
"Is it jrfda?"
I looked down.
"…When did I tell you what I call my book?"
She answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world:
"You talk to yourself."
Talking to yourself was a sign of intelligence, right?
Viola stretched her little hands toward the ruined pages.
"Can I see?"
I froze. My willpower… still nonexistent or too weak to matter.
"Okay, but be careful."
I handed her the book I guarded jealously and didn't allow anyone to touch—except her.
Viola opened it with extreme seriousness and care—much more than me, actually—and slowly began flipping through the half-destroyed pages.
"This place…"
She pointed at a hand-scribbled drawing of a city with incredibly tall towers.
"…does it really exist?"
There were two possibilities: either that man was an unrecognized artist with a wild imagination, or the place truly existed.
"Maybe."
Viola looked up at me.
"Will you go there?"
I gave my best absolutely trustworthy—or maybe just arrogant—smile.
"Of course."
Her eyes lit up.
"Then…"
She hesitated for a moment.
Then she added in a small voice:
"…when you go… will you take me with you?"
It's super effective.
I didn't know how to answer, but maybe noticing my hesitation, Rita joined the conversation.
"Viola, do what I told you."
What could a gorilla possibly teach a delicate little girl like her?
Viola, perhaps convinced by Rita's words, said:
"…big brother."
SUPER EFFECTIVE. CRITICAL HIT.
Arthur, to my great pleasure, choked on his soup this time, while Rayan stared with wide eyes.
I stayed still for a while, waiting for my nervous system to reboot.
Viola kept looking at me with puppy eyes. Don't look at me like that. After those words, you're negatively affecting my already defective thought process.
I placed my hand on her head.
"Okay, but only when you're older."
Viola smiled victoriously.
"Hehe… okay!"
Why is she so cute? I was afraid that if she asked me to kill someone, I might seriously consider it. Dangerous.
She adjusted herself more comfortably on her throne while I stared at my cold soup, evaluating the life choices that had led me to that moment.
I had always been afraid of mind-reading gorillas, but maybe I needed to reassess the level of danger. Perhaps a six-year-old girl smiling innocently was even worse.
Moreover, Viola was sitting on my lap at that moment, which morally forced me to become more comfortable for her; I absolutely could not move abruptly or stand up until further notice.
How long had I been awake? Fifteen minutes? Maybe thirty.
I was already tired.
I deeply missed my bed.
…and maybe also my free will, which I had apparently lost somewhere along the way.