As the firstborn son—a strong boy with promising beauty—my parents placed boundless expectations upon my childish shoulders.
Year after year, the harsh truth became undeniable: I would not be the perfect son they had imagined, but rather a disappointment they would never admit to having.
Yet, I never blamed them.
The problem always lay within me: a mind that refused to focus, a spirit that could find no interest in anything.
Every day felt like wandering through endless labyrinths, questioning the purpose of each step.
I saw no value in studying, growing up, and submitting to a job that would imprison me in an endless cycle—wake up, work, return home, sleep—only to repeat it the next day.
A routine that would continue until my last breath.
The most disturbing part?
These thoughts had taken root when I was just two years old.
Deep down, I knew no battle in this world was worth the effort.
There was a constant certainty within me—as if, at any moment, everything could crumble.
And when it did, every drop of sweat shed, every sleepless night, every nurtured dream would turn to ashes in the wind.
And so, in my parents' eyes, I became a burden.
A failure.
By the time I realized it… their affection had vanished completely.
The reason?
The birth of my twin siblings.
They were perfection in human form.
With each passing year, they grew more impressive—living promises of excellence, their dedication knowing no limits.
My parents, brimming with pride, showered them with affection.
They were only a year younger, but ever since I started kindergarten, I was forced to do many things on my own.
No matter how hard I tried to please them, my parents simply no longer cared about me.
Not even when I was sick.
I considered it a blessing to at least have the bare minimum to eat—even if it was only to keep up appearances in front of others.
As we grew older, I received an unexpected surprise: there was someone who, despite all my failures, still saw worth in me—my sister, Alice Albuquerque.
Not only did she care, but she treated me with an equality I had thought impossible.
Her beauty transcended any possible description.
Her skin, pale and rosy, was as soft as the finest silk.
Her long, nearly white-gold hair cascaded in gentle waves.
Her light blue eyes shone with celestial intensity.
It was like having an angel before my very eyes—perfect and unattainable.
But what impressed those who knew her just as much as her beauty was her brilliant mind.
She was what one might call a genius in its purest form.
That was why she was constantly traveling—to further her studies, compete in tournaments, and share her knowledge in lectures.
Yet, every time she returned, the first thing she did was seek me out.
For reasons I could never comprehend, she maintained an unbreakable attachment to me.
And I, in turn, clung to that bond as the only light in my darkness.
I had always felt a visceral need to keep her close.
Since childhood, I had been extremely introverted—a friendless child, convinced no one could possibly enjoy my company.
The way my parents treated me had planted that certainty deep in my heart.
So, I isolated myself from the world, pushing away even the few brave souls who tried to break through my barriers.
Though I didn't excel in my studies and my grades left much to be desired, my looks at least ensured a normal school life.
At least… until two years ago.
Until the day I tried to rape Yeda.
The incident was swept under the rug by the school, but that didn't stop my classmates from tearing me apart.
From that day on, I lived under relentless siege—humiliation and violence my constant companions.
My parents not only kicked me out of the house but also forbade Alice from having any contact with me.
She was harshly scolded and threatened: if she didn't cut ties with me, they would stop paying for my education and the hotel where I lived.
To them, it was intolerable that their greatest pride—their prodigy daughter—would so much as glance in the direction of a human failure like me.
Despite everything, Alice still visited me in secret.
Two months had passed since our last meeting—exactly when she had left for Germany to attend a scientific conference.
Then today, upon her return, she found me being humiliated by Yeda and her cronies behind the school.
When my reputation had collapsed, I made Alice promise me one thing: no matter what happened to me, she was never to try and defend me.
If she dared break that promise, it would be the end—I would vanish from her life without a trace.
So, she could only watch everything from afar.
After everyone had left, she told Apollo she was going to her best friend Paloma Santori's house—but in truth, she waited for me to wake up and helped me back home.
As soon as we got inside, I collapsed onto the couch with an exhausted sigh.
Alice brought me a glass of water and knelt in front of me.
— "Are you going to be okay?"
— "…Y-yeah."
Her eyes told me she didn't believe my words.
And for good reason.
I was covered in bruises.
I could barely breathe.
— "I'm going out to buy some ingredients and make something for you to eat…"
— "Y-you don't have to… Go home. It's late."
— "I already texted Mom saying I'm sleeping over at Paloma's. Tonight, I'm staying with you. I'll tidy up a bit too—this place is a mess."
I smiled, but even that hurt.
— "I'll be back soon!"
— "O-okay…"
I lay back on the couch and, without realizing it, fell asleep.
I don't know how long I slept, but I woke to a thunderous crash at the door.
Before I could even orient myself, the door exploded against the wall.
And there stood Alice, staggering into the apartment—before collapsing to her knees, her hands desperately trying to stem the blood gushing from her torn abdomen.
My eyes widened at the sight.
Alice lifted her gaze and reached a trembling hand toward me.
Tears streamed down her pale face.
— "A-Alan…"
Her body hit the floor.
Life had left her before she even touched the ground.