A warm evening glow outside a small, humble house nestled in a quiet street. The window glows golden with light.
There was a strange kind of magic in the air that evening—soft and golden, like honey slipping through sunlight. The tiny house on the corner of Nanairo Street sat quietly under the yawning sky, as if the stars themselves were waiting for something.
Inside, a small girl with curious eyes the color of maple wood leaned against the windowsill. Her name was Liz Nanairo, and though she was still just a child, something behind those eyes sparkled too sharply for someone her age—as if she was already dreaming beyond her years.
Liz resting her chin on her hand by the window, her reflection barely visible in the glass, city lights far in the distance.
The scent of freshly cooked rice and simmering broth wafted from the kitchen, curling into every room like a lullaby. Laughter erupted from the living room—her older brother, loud and carefree, had likely told a joke again. Her younger brother, whose giggles sounded like wind chimes, followed closely behind.
Then the front door creaked open.
“Papa’s home!”
Liz’s voice chimed as she ran to the entrance, her little feet thumping against the wooden floor. Her papa, tall with a tired but kind smile, stood there in his long coat. His tie was loosened like he’d run a marathon through life itself.
He crouched just in time to catch Liz as she leapt into his arms.
“Miss me, princess?” he asked, ruffling her hair.
They gathered around the dinner table—mismatched plates, chipped bowls, the kind of dinnerware that tells stories of years spent together. They didn’t have much, but somehow the love in that little house made everything feel full.
But not everyone was smiling.
From the kitchen doorway, Mama stood still, arms crossed, her eyes tracing the tension that hung around Papa’s collar like invisible smoke. Her gaze was quiet but sharp, the kind of silence that whispers questions louder than words ever could.
She didn’t believe him—not about where he went, not about the way he’d smell faintly of expensive cologne and danger. She smiled for the children, but behind her eyes, something stirred. Doubt, maybe. Or fear.
That night, the stars seemed to lean a little closer to Earth, as if they too had secrets to share.
The house fell quiet. Sleep came like fog—soft and slow. Liz lay curled in her bed, the faint sound of the city in the distance. She looked out her small window, where the moonlight pooled like silver milk on the floor.
And in that quiet moment, a single thought whispered itself into her young heart.
“I don’t want to be poor forever.”
She imagined herself in a world of glittering stages, silk dresses, and people calling her name like she was someone important. A girl who didn’t have to wait for sales or hide the holes in her socks. A girl with power, voice, beauty—and a dream too big to stay quiet.
She didn’t know how, but she would find a way.
Even if it meant chasing dreams far bigger than the sky above her roof.
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to be continued...(◉‿◉) My dear readers.
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In a world where dreams are too expensive for the poor, a young girl named Liz Nanairo dares to chase them anyway. From humble dinners to dangerous promises, her journey begins in the quiet glow of a family evening.
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