Gone was the mischievous, doubtful, and stubborn Claude. His head was bowed lower, but since he was standing on the chair, I still could see his face, no matter how he tried to hide it. Uncertainty was etched on his young face.
He stood there, head lowered, hands balled into fists, and body slightly trembling from holding back emotions. I saw him as a kid bottling his feelings inside, carrying his burdens on his drooping shoulders, and wearing his heart on his sleeves.
Unconsciously, my hand raised and touched his trembling fist. I felt him jolt, but he finally looked up and met my eyes.
"You want to become a hero like your ancestor, right?"
My voice was soft and gentle, and somehow, I felt something resonating from within my body. Before I knew it, I was speaking like I was part of this world.
