AKI POV
"Ugh, I hate that witch!" I shrieked as I threw my phone at the bed, in rage.
How dare she hang up on me! I had a really venomous retort to give her.
I stormed down the grand staircase, my heels clicking against the marble. The staff scattered like mice as I approached the dining room. I barely acknowledged the feast laid out before me, grabbing a slice of toast as I headed for the car, and my personal maid, waiting outside.
The chauffeur held the door open, and I slid into the leather seat with the grace of someone who'd own the world soon.
"High school, huh. Let's see how long it takes to make them all kneel."
I muttered to myself, as I glanced back at the towering structure, the car pulled away from the estate.
As you'd have understood by now, my name is Aki Nakamura, the Great. The best. I'm not too curvy, like those medically misshaped individuals. I'm the personification of moderation: My chest, my behind, my curves, my overall figure.
Though, sometimes, I question the universe as to why my chest isn't there yet, I have become contented now. There's no beating time, and I'll soon have my own victory shout!
But, apart from the chest, I'm truly the finest among many girls my age.
Well, if not for my childhood rival, Hana Hanazono—the narcissistic sadist I was talking to a while ago—I was unchallenged in the whole of Japan... No, the whole world!
She gets off on using and dumping people. Not like I don't do that too; but I at least, let them KNOW I'm using them, THEN I dump them. Being childhood friends—I mean, RIVALS with her has been quite a wearisome experience for me. She lies as much as she breathes! Though, it's not a lie that she is weak and sickly. But, of course, she overdramatizes it to make minions of the people who feels sorry for her.
A master manipulator. She specializes in using people until they are finished. She literally sees people as tools to be made use of. Not like I don't either, but I at least let them know I'm using them.
Unlike me—a realist—Hana acts good and kind, and everyone loves her. She's rich, influential, and pretty, after all. But the darkness within those loving eyes, only few of us can tell.
She's so good at what she does that only another high ranking "awful person," like myself—that specializes in the same arts as her—would sniff out her traps.
Well, enough about Maleficent, let's get back to me!
People say I'm physically strong, more so than average teenagers. And If I think about it, I HAVE always been exceptional since I was young; archery, kendo, swordsmanship, basically any sport you can mention, I'm your girl…
Actually, I'm no one's girl, forget I said that!
On the surface, it MAY seem like I look down on everyone who I believe to not be on the same level as me. And I AM known for bullying and mistreating my servants, or pretty much anyone I can get my hands on. But that's inaccurate. It's just what people think and say about me, behind my back.
In reality, I… am actually worse than that. Yes!
Aki Nakamura, at age 10, tied fireworks on her servant and cackled, "Ha-ha-ha-ha, what's with that face you're making, priceless!"
And unfortunately, when they were saved, I started saying things like. "I can't believe you would cry from something as trivial as this; it's not like you're going to perish from a little burn!" While the poor servant screamed and ran for their life.
Don't look at me like that, it was youthful indulgence!
Another time, when I was but 12, I lured—I mean, SAVED weak children who were being bullied, then brought them to play at my glorious mansion. Though, that was the premise; I HAD saved them from "bullies," but I ALSO released my guard dogs on them, and watched as they scrammed in tears.
Hey, I had to get payment for doing something as dirty as saving paupers.
But of course, something like that could not be made public. Considering the sort of family, I was part of.
I was a tyrant, apparently. And although I stopped—or think I stopped—setting people on fire, I didn't stop the narcissism, the self-centeredness, the arrogance.
Even presently—that I'm 16 yrs. old, and about to start high school—I'm looking forward to stepping on people, watching them endeavor to curry my favor, like the rats they are.
Truly, life is beautiful. It's wonderful being the protagonist.
I'm I talking too much? Deal with it. Many don't get to hear me rant.
Ever since I was young, I had this motto: "Trample on everything and anyone who gets in your way." If you get beaten, then you weren't powerful enough. I believe that's how the world works. The strong eat the weak.
But I'll be the strong which eats even the strongest. In order to get to the top, you'd have to force your way there. Life won't just sit and let you seamlessly pass, it'll give you hell if you're being all humble and goody-goody.
What's that? Did you just roll your eyes? Not many are opportune to be graced with my philosophy!
No man is above me. All are beneath me. And when the time's right, I'll kill my father and take over his possessions… Okay, I'm not THAT sadistic. Maybe I'll just throw him and his wife behind bars for the rest of their days, or something.
Despite my so-called awful personality, I attract a devoted fan club—a gaggle of nobodies, extras in the grand drama of my life, blissfully unaware of the roles I've assigned them. They fawn over me, showering me with praise I don't need, yet gladly accept. They adore me, idolize me even. They can't help it—insects are always drawn to the light. To them, I am a goddess. Though, I only see them as footholds and pawns on my chessboard. I'm really showing plus-ultra kindness by allowing them breathe the same air as me. Perhaps it's time to tighten the leash. Should I start enforcing masks in my presence? Not for health reasons, of course—just to remind them of their place.