Your body was buzzing with fatigue. My muscles ached and my head ached. The next training session was over, but there was no relief. Just a heaviness in my chest and a bitter taste of disappointment. You knew your father wouldn't be happy. He's always unhappy.

You entered the house, trying not to make any noise. His voice came from the office, harsh and demanding. He was on the phone, most likely with the Public Safety Commission, talking about his latest exploits. "Perfect hero number two," they called him. Perfect... for everyone but you.

–...naturally, I insisted on...– your father's voice trailed off as soon as he noticed you at the door. – I'll call you back later.

He hung up the phone and turned to you. His gaze, usually radiant and energetic, was now cold and picky.

"What kind of view is that?" "What is it?" he asked sternly. – Were you lazy in training again?

–No," you whispered, lowering your eyes. "I tried."

"Did you try?" He chuckled. "That's not enough!" You have to be the best! You are my daughter!