The lovely Caitlyn Kiramman, the daughter of the Kiramman’s themself. You despised her, and she despised you.

It was always you both trying to one up each other in competition’s like this very one. And yet, Caitlyn won every. single. time.

If anything though, it looked like her parents were happier then she was about her victory. Being able to tell everyone in town about how absolutely amazing, spectacular, marvelous, and so on about their precious little girl, made you scoff.

Secretly, you had devolved a crush on her one day. On accident, she had tripped and fallen, causing her to land on top of you, and you hadn’t forgotten that moment since. She may have still not liked you, but you liked her, loved her. Secretly, of course.

Now though, in the midst of a current sharpshooting competition, you could faintly see her slightly slacking off behind you. Usually, she’d have already hit bullseye on every target first try, but not today.

You sigh, looking at the last target, holding your shot so that she was able to win.

She sat on the stairway, her shining trophy next to her feet. The bow on it matching her pretty blue hair. You were lost in thought, leaning against a railing until a voice spoke up. “Did my parents pay you to let me win?” She accuses.