Lord-Campione
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New Dawn Chapter: 046
🕑 Added 2025-01-02 00:29:37 +0000 UTCTheir order was soon served by a waiter who eyed them suspiciously—he probably wondered what the earlier ruckus was about, but smoothly left without prying.
Good.
As the aroma of a fragrant cup of tea wafted in the air, the smell of freshly-baked brioches, chocolate tarts, and cheesecakes filled the ambience, Miku studied him carefully. "Since you brought me all the way here, doesn't it mean that you must have some idea?" She asked softly, eyes hard.
“Maybe I do.” Tysone's gaze drifted toward the window, watching droplets race each other down the glass. His words were casual, but Miku felt the weight behind them. "But I need you to confirm it first. You’re the only one who can."
Miku scoffed softly, leaning back in her chair with arms crossed. "And what if I say no?"
Tysone’s eyes flicked back to her. "You won’t."
Silence hung between them, save for the gentle clinking of cutlery from other tables. Miku's eyes narrowed—but there was no fight in them. She knew he was right. Whatever was happening around her wasn’t normal, and pretending otherwise wasn’t going to fix it.
“Fine. Ask what you need to ask.” Her fingers drummed restlessly against the tabletop.
Tysone tapped his index finger against his cup, as if weighing his words. "You’re not exactly blending in at school. It’s not just rumors, Miku. It’s something else. You’re standing out too much… and not in a way that’s natural."
Miku’s smirk flickered, but her eyes betrayed the flicker of unease. "So, you think I’m asking for it?" Her tone dipped low, defensive.
"No. But I think there’s more to it than just bored high school gossip. It feels...amplified. I’ve been in school before. I’ve had people talk behind my or each other’s backs. This is too much."
Miku fell silent, tracing the rim of her tea cup. Her facade of indifference cracked, and he wondered if she’d start crying. He hoped not, too much attention would be garnered.
“You’ve felt it too, haven’t you?” He pressed.
She hesitated. "It’s not like I can explain it. It's just... it's like everyone's watching me, even when I’m doing nothing. Like they’re waiting for me to screw up. And when I don’t, they make things up." Her voice was soft, but there was a rawness to it.
Tysone nodded. This was what he expected. Her syndrome was growing, stretching into the fabric of her world and twisting reality around her.
“It’s not all in your head.” He said simply.
Miku met his gaze, eyes dark with frustration. “Then what do I do? I can’t just walk around acting like it doesn’t exist.”
“You don’t have to. But I need to know the triggers. When did this start?”
She gulped, fidgeting, picking at her fingers.
“I don’t know…”
“You must know.”
“I—”
“Miku.”
She clenched her teeth, before a sigh tumbled out. “My parents…”
Tysone inclined his chin, indicating for her to continue.
She chewed her bottom lip. "I couldn't take their insults. But it's always been there." Her fingers trembled as they closed around the handle of her cup, lifting it unsteadily. She took a sip of her tea. "I don't even really remember when it started. Maybe when I was a little, but I grew up so used to it that I must've become exactly what they thought of me."
She set her cup back down, careful not to slam it the way she'd done with the table before. The wood creaked as her body fell slack against her chair. She swallowed and closed her eyes.
"I could never convince myself that I was something other than...well. That." Her smile was self-deprecating and dark, and Tysone didn't think that this version of Miku should have such an expression.
Not because he sympathized, but because it felt wrong.
Her lips pulled tighter. "I wanna do well at school... I wanna join clubs, sing, dance, hang out, but how could I do any of that knowing people see me differently?" Her fingers dug into her chest. "No matter what I do, no matter if it's just acting...it's not me. It's an illusion." Her breathing slowed, her eyes fell downward. "I guess I did try, but in the end, I've just become what I've tried so hard to reject."
"......"
"Fuck, this is frustrating!" Miku cursed, hunching her shoulders and folding her arms.
"You talk like you've already lost." Tysone said plainly, stirring his tea.
Miku's head snapped toward him, brows furrowing. "I’m being realistic. You think it’s easy pretending this doesn’t affect me?"
He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. "It’s not about pretending. It’s about control. If you can’t control how people see you, control how you see yourself."
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Great advice, Dr. Phil. Should I meditate next?"
Tysone didn’t rise to the bait. "You can joke all you want, but when it comes down to it, the reality is that your only other option is to spiral into madness—whether you realize it or not. You'll become that slut they think you are, or the victim they imagine you as. Everything is in the power of the interpretation. Even yourself. There is no in-between in the end."
"Great! So I really am screwed!" She exclaimed exasperatedly, then sighed as she buried her face in her palm.
"Nope. No, you aren't." Tysone rebutted easily, as if everything was fine and well. As if her self-worth wasn't a mess and her reputation didn't bring her to the brink of mental breakdown. He slid one of the small bowls of sweets toward her and took the one across the table for himself.
His nonchalance was somewhat grating, as if he wasn't taking any of this seriously.
"To be honest, the nature of this problem is particular, and it takes a lot of self-discipline and introspection to be aware of it. Even then, if left to spiral out of control it can snowball, as it's happened to you, making it increasingly difficult to re-take control."
She was annoyed, and looked like she had a lot to say to that, but then a particular thought hit her, and her brows scrunched up in contemplation as she gazed into her tea cup. "But there is a solution. You wouldn't be giving me all this little speech otherwise."
He took a bite of his crème pastry. It tasted really good. "Yes." Once he swallowed, he stared at Miku dead in the eye. "There is one. First of all, allow me to explain something, and do not interrupt me until I'm done, regardless of how disconcerting and impossible you think it sounds like."
Miku frowned, though said nothing as her mind continued to process everything she had heard.
"What I'm going to share with you is not information anyone's going to believe. I can only share this to you, and only you, because, quite frankly, you're a prime example of someone in need of help. The question, Miku, is whether or not you want it? To solve your predicament, and the associated problem of what appears to be a growing supernatural phenomenon, you will have to put your complete trust in me. And yes, I did use 'complete'. And no, I'm not being delusional, but I hope you're willing to reconsider how you're viewing this."
She focused entirely on him. He nodded. "Thank you. So, listen." He breathed, drawing up an imaginary speech he didn't write in his head and began reciting, hoping to get it all in one go, as he might forget key points if he messed this up.
"There’s something called Puberty Syndrome. It’s rare, almost unheard of, but it’s real. And it affects people your age. Specifically, teenagers dealing with stress, anxiety, insecurities…basically, the usual storm of emotions that comes with growing up. But instead of just staying in your head, it leaks out. It manifests in ways that can bend reality around you.”
Miku’s eyes widened.
But Tysone continued, unperturbed. “For most, it’s subtle. Maybe a few coincidences, maybe some weird luck, but nothing extreme. But in rare cases, like yours, it doesn’t stay subtle. It gets worse the more you let your perception of yourself spiral. The way people see you starts to shift, rumors spread faster, and reality twists to fit the image that’s being projected onto you.”
He paused to take a sip of his tea.
“That’s why you feel like everyone’s watching you, why the rumors never stop no matter how much you ignore them. It’s not just in your head, but it’s not exactly normal either. It’s like your emotions are warping the world around you. The more you buy into the image everyone paints of you, the more it solidifies.
I know it sounds crazy. I wouldn’t believe it either if I hadn’t seen it firsthand. But I’ve met someone else who went through this. Someone who risked disappearing, becoming straight out invisible. It didn’t matter what they did, how much they screamed. No one noticed them. And I’m not about to let that happen to you.
The good news? It’s reversible. The bad news? It’s not easy. It won’t fix overnight, and I can’t do it for you. But I can help. If you let me.”
