Lord-Campione
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New Dawn Chapter: 047
🕑 Added 2025-01-05 01:27:04 +0000 UTC“H-How…” Miku croaked out. Tysone didn’t give the impression he was joking around, unless he was doing this out of some spite-driven pettiness. Even then, why would he go so far, knowing full well how unlikely all this sounded.
Even so, Miku believed him. She didn’t exactly understand what this whole Puberty Syndrome meant, nor what was happening around her, or how in the world was Tysone proposing to fix all of her problems, and yet—her gut was telling her to trust him.
"How can you help me?"
She sounded defeated, but with barest hints of hope.
"First of all, let's clear one thing up. I'm not an expert, I merely have enough knowledge about it to be able to properly explain the underlying causes and the necessary steps to take in order to have a successful outcome." Tysone began.
"But you said...!" She protested, sitting up in her chair and sending it clattering to the ground. He waved a dismissive hand.
"Right now, the issue you're facing is related to an emotional and mental aspect of your puberty. People perceive you the way you believe they do. The issue is, your beliefs have spiraled. They are off, and thus warping your perception."
He eyed her from the corner of his eye as he casually continued to drink.
"So, where has this belief come from? Let's address that. The core of your perception is also related to your upbringing, your beliefs, your experiences. It's basically rooted in your foundation. In your case, we have two beliefs. Your parents have convinced you of the way you are. And society seems to mirror those same beliefs. Everyone perceives you in a way that's causing a feedback effect and you can't find a foothold in reality."
Miku bit her bottom lip. "Get to the point."
He took some more time to think it over. "You said that your parents were the one to instill a belief that you're a freak, a slut. Right?"
She sighed. "Yes. Yes, they are. They've even gone as far as to spread rumors around... they kept... calling me all these awful things." If Miku had any more strength, the cup in her grasp would have shattered from her iron hold.
"Were they always like that?" Tysone frowned.
Miku's eyes dimmed as she recalled those memories. "No... not always..."
"Did something happen to make them act that way?"
She opened her mouth. Shut it.
She went quiet, gazing out the window as the rain gently tapped on the glass.
"My parents have always had humble jobs. As far as I remember, we could never afford much." She began with a weary sigh. "And I don't care about any of that... I never wanted more than they could provide. We were happy in our own way. A small home. A small income. But I felt loved, and safe." Miku said wistfully. "Or so I thought..."
Tysone was patient. She wouldn't interrupt. He trusted her to say as much or as little as she wanted to. He simply sat there, giving her that curious look he gave whenever he was solving a complex puzzle.
"I think it began right after I entered middle school. I started doing well—really well. My grades shot up, teachers started praising me, and suddenly, I wasn't just their daughter anymore. I became the smart kid everyone in the neighborhood talked about."
Her voice wavered, but she pressed on. "At first, my parents seemed proud. I thought I was making them happy, like I was finally repaying them for everything they'd done for me. But then… it shifted. They stopped celebrating my achievements and started… resenting them."
Tysone listened intently.
Miku’s fingers twisted in her lap. "I thought I was imagining it. But it was in the little things. The way my mom would change the subject when people complimented me. Or how my dad would joke about me 'getting too big for my boots' if I talked about school." She swallowed hard. "I tried to ignore it. I thought maybe I was being arrogant, maybe I needed to stop talking so much about my grades."
Her gaze dropped to the floor. "But even when I did that, it didn’t stop. They started whispering things when they thought I couldn't hear. Saying I was trying to make them look bad, that I thought I was better than them. And when high school came around… it got worse. Rumors started spreading. I was suddenly not just ‘the smart kid,’ but the one who was 'using her looks' to get ahead. That I was…" She trailed off, shaking her head.
Tysone’s eyes narrowed. "Let me guess. They didn’t deny it."
She let out a bitter laugh. "Deny it? They agreed with it. My mom said I 'must’ve done something' to get that teacher to favor me. My dad told me if I kept 'acting like that,' people would stop respecting me." Her fists clenched. "But I wasn’t acting like anything. I was just… trying."
Silence hung between them, broken only by the rain.
Finally, Tysone set his cup down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "So basically, they couldn't stand watching you succeed in ways they never could."
Miku’s head snapped up, startled by his bluntness. "That’s not—"
"Don't sugarcoat it." His tone wasn’t harsh, but it was firm. "People act funny when they’re jealous, even parents. Especially parents. Sometimes the closer you are to someone, the harder it is for them to watch you outgrow the life they know."
Her lips trembled. She wanted to argue, but deep down, she knew he wasn’t wrong.
"And that’s why…" Tysone continued. "You started believing it. If the people who raised you—who loved you—think that way, then why wouldn’t the rest of the world?"
Miku bit her lip so hard it nearly drew blood. "I tried so hard to prove them wrong. I thought if I just worked harder, if I was better, they’d see the truth."
"And that…" He said, leaning back with a sigh. "Is how your perception got warped. You’re stuck in this loop—trying to win a race you never agreed to run."
She glanced at him, hesitant. "So… how do I stop it?"
Tysone flashed her a small, reassuring grin. "Well, I can’t rewrite the past. But I can help you stop running. First step? Realizing their jealousy doesn’t define you. And second…" He pointed at her with mock seriousness. "You listen to me. Because I’m much smarter than your dad, and way funnier than your mom."
Despite herself, Miku snorted, covering her mouth with her hand. "You’re ridiculous."
"Ridiculous and effective." He said proudly. "Stick with me long enough, and you might even start believing in yourself. Now, it’s about time you show me your home and your parents."
“W-What…”
Miku was stumped, but it was too late.
Tysone had already stood up and was preparing to pay.
…
It wasn't hard to tell which house was hers; Miku could not stop shaking and fidgeting the entire time, so Tysone brought her close to his side. Her palm was pressed against his coat, as if the contact brought her a sense of comfort and reassurance.
Though reluctant and still nervous about the whole thing, Miku made an effort to introduce Tysone, albeit reluctantly, to her parents.
Her mother greeted them curtly, looking him up and down critically and exchanging pleasantries with her husband. There was something distrustful in her gaze, perhaps stemming from suspicion as to what exactly their relationship was.
And while at first, Tysone's unreadable smile must have unnerved the man, it quickly wore away after the pair had settled into Miku's room, with snacks provided by the couple.
Now, the snacks in question could hardly be considered such. Miku was the one to describe her parents to him beforehand, but Tysone never saw food made to be so bland in his life. It was quite unsettling, the sheer level of apathy that it could display.
Miku merely looked disheartened. "I'm sorry about that."
"No, it's fine. I've had worse, to be honest."
“Uhhh…” Miku shuffled around uncomfortably. “So, what now?”
There was a bit of shyness with having a boy in her room, but the urgency of the situation thawed off any warm feelings that might have blossomed.
“Well, it should be about time you face your parents. I guess this is the first step to unraveling all this.” Tysone said casually, popping one of the dry crackers into his mouth with the enthusiasm of someone chewing cardboard.
Miku froze, halfway to grabbing a drink. “Face them? What do you mean?”
Tysone leaned back against the edge of her bed, arms crossed behind his head. “I mean talk to them. Set the record straight. The whole ‘letting it simmer until it explodes’ approach clearly isn’t working.” He glanced sideways at her. “Unless you want to keep pretending like you don’t care while spiraling into existential dread.”
Miku’s eyes darted nervously to the door, as if her parents were already eavesdropping. “I can’t just—It’s not that easy.”
“No kidding.” Tysone sat up, brushing off his hands. “But if you wait for easy, you’ll be waiting forever.”
