At ten years old, Akira's life was filled with the simple, joyful routines of childhood.
Mornings were slow and comforting, with the soft sounds of her mother moving about the kitchen and her father's low voice humming along to a song on the radio.
Life in her family home felt safe, a world untouched by anything more serious than the occasional disagreement or her brother Akito teasing her over the dinner table.
It was a life filled with warmth and light, and Akira was perfectly content.
She would spend hours in her room, sitting cross-legged on the floor by her favorite spot: the large window that overlooked their quiet neighborhood.
The window let in streams of golden sunlight, which pooled on the floor and made the pages of her notebook glow.
This was where she did most of her writing, her greatest passion.
At just ten years old, she had already begun crafting her own stories, her current project being a romance novel titled "My Husband is the CEO of Stupidity!"
Akira was truly a genius of creativity.
The story followed a hilariously inept CEO who couldn't manage to keep anything in order, and his clever wife who was always there to save the day, usually with a biting remark.
The story was full of slice of life content, perfect for a calm reading of how even a simple couple could have millions of situations and stories to tell.
Akira loved writing about their dynamic, the tension and humor between the characters always making her laugh as she wrote.
Her writing style was simple and elegant.
She didn't like to use too many complex words.
She always said "You have to be simple to reach everyone's heart."
And she was only ten years old.
A true genius.
And that's why their parents never stopped her passion.
Akira would've been a shining star.
A true artist, someone who could shine amongst thousands of people.
Her pencil scratched lightly against the paper, her thoughts flowing effortlessly as she built out each scene.
Her older brother, Akito, would sometimes peer into her room with a smile.
"Still writing that silly romance?" he'd tease, leaning against the doorframe.
"Of course!" Akira would reply, grinning up at him. "This is going to be the next big thing, just wait!"
Akito would laugh and shake his head, but there was always pride in his eyes.
"I'm sure it will be," he'd say, before leaving her to her world of imagination.
Akira loved his big brother a lot, and the perfect image of him gave her the inspiration to create the "CEO of stupidity" of her novel.
Though their paths were different since Akito was fully absorbed in his military training, while Akira dreamed of being a writer.
There still was an unspoken bond between them.
Akito was the star of the family, but Akira didn't mind.
She was happy to watch him shine from the sidelines, always offering her quiet support while she focused on her own dreams.
And this is not an obvious thing.
Sometimes, people feels a lot of envy even to their family members.
But luckily, this wasn't the case for Akira's family.
The household was a harmonious place.
Her parents, though strict at times, were kind and loving.
Her father, a man of few words, would often pass by her room, glancing in with a soft smile whenever he saw her writing.
"You're always writing something, aren't you?" he'd remark with a loving tone of voice.
"I have to! My characters are waiting for me," she'd reply with a giggle.
Akira's father was a man of honor, a war veteran who fought in a lot of missions.
The army knows him as "Kazuo the Iron Fist" due to his strength.
He was a general and a commander.
And most of all, he was a perfect leader who loved all of his subordinates.
Voices say that when he left the army, there was a big party where all the army celebrated his goodbye.
Her mother, too, encouraged her, often bringing her snacks or a cup of tea while she wrote. "Don't forget to take breaks, Akira. It's important to rest your mind," her mother would say with a gentle smile.
Her mother , instead, was a singer.
She wasn't a star of cinema, but she was pretty popular in their country.
She met Akira's father during his free days from the army.
Akira's days were spent in peaceful routine.
Mornings writing by the window, afternoons helping her mother around the house, and evenings spent with her family.
They would all gather around the dinner table, sharing stories from the day.
Akito would often talk about his training, and while it sounded exhausting to Akira, she admired his dedication.
He was on his way to becoming an officer, and one day a commander and their parents couldn't have been prouder.
Akito usually told stories to his parents and Akira about funny moments that happened during his time.
He used to return for the weekends since his diligence and professionalism brought him to have special permissions to return.
After dinner, Akira would retreat to her room again, her notebook always at her side.
Sometimes, she'd sit on her bed, legs crossed as she wrote furiously, lost in the world she had created.
Other times, she'd sprawl out on the floor, her head resting on her arm as she daydreamed about future plot twists or new character ideas.
Her mind was always buzzing with creativity, and there was never a dull moment in her imaginative world.
Despite her quiet, introspective nature, Akira felt completely at ease in those days.
She was free to explore her passions, supported by a loving family, and every day felt like a small adventure in its own way.
Whether it was a new idea for her book or an afternoon spent wandering outside with Akito, there was a sense of endless possibility in the air.
More than that, during the time of her father in the army, he managed to meet a lot of important people in almost every fields."
From the music to the literature.
Akira had every way opened.
Even on quiet days, when the house was still and the only sound was the ticking of the old clock in the hallway, Akira never felt lonely.
She always had her notebook, her stories, and her dreams to keep her company.
She would lie on her back on the bedroom floor, staring up at the ceiling, imagining all the places her writing could take her.
Maybe one day, her stories would be published, and people all over the world would read about her bumbling CEO and his sharp-tongued wife. The thought made her smile.
Sometimes, her parents would ask her to read a few pages of her story at the dinner table.
She'd blush, embarrassed by the attention, but secretly pleased that they were interested.
"Alright, just a little bit," she'd say, flipping open her notebook.
And she would read, her voice quiet at first but gaining confidence as her family listened attentively.
Even Akito, who pretended to be uninterested in her "silly" stories, would lean in, his expression softening as he listened to his sister's words.
Akira could always tell he was proud of her, even if he didn't say it out loud.
As the evening faded into night, Akira would close her notebook and lie in bed, a content smile on her face.
The sound of her parents talking quietly downstairs, Akito's footsteps moving about the house, and the gentle hum of the world outside all lulled her into a peaceful sleep.
In those days, life was simple and beautiful. The weight of the world had yet to touch her, and her heart was full of the innocent dreams of childhood.
She was just a girl, surrounded by the love of her family, lost in her stories, and blissfully unaware of the challenges that would one day come her way.
For now, though, her world was whole, and her future felt bright, full of unwritten stories waiting to unfold…