Dear Pharah

[A/N: This chapter is subject to potential changes and revisions, so if you see any errors, let me know.]

*****

After he confidently emerged from his room, Ezran couldn't count how many times he had to wave in the direction of the servants and housekeepers of the penthouse, who seemed more interested in his presence than their tasks.

''Damn it…''

To his deep annoyance, questions like: 'Are you all right, young master?' and 'How do you feel about seeing a specialist doctor?' were more frequent than he expected them to be.

Besides that, for some bizarre reason, the maids of that place watched him nonstop, as if they were drying him with their eyes.

They seemed strangely attracted to something about the boy's appearance, which left him dumbfounded and extremely uncomfortable.

Also, to make matters even worse, given the scene he'd made a few days ago, ignoring introductions and heading straight to his room, where he'd locked himself away for days on end, the employees' concerns skyrocketed.

That's why, as soon as he left his quarters, the young man was subjected to a close inspection by a doctor, who was in a small room, next to Pharah's office, who had summoned him.

''Are you feeling all right?'' the man in the lab coat asked, a small device between his fingers. "You can be honest with me, young master."

Frankly, Ezran felt his heart pounding and his temples about to burst whenever he heard the mention of the term 'Young Master'.

While he liked LOTH more than anything, he couldn't help but say that the plot was too wrapped up in shameful clichés, for the most part.

That's why he couldn't help but think that clichéd stories like [Lord of the Heroes] always tended to appeal to that more aristocratic side.

Was that aspect something readers liked to see?

He had no idea.

But frankly, it was still fucking stupid; from the bottom of his heart, he found the term corny, pushing him to another level.

''Yes, doctor.'' Ezran replied, keeping a dead expression on his jovial face. ''I'm thankfully fine. It was all just a misunderstanding, you know?''

It had been more than an hour since Doctor Lucien had first examined him.

Feeling trapped in that ghostly orange-painted room, Ezran felt claustrophobic, his face a little red, already at the end of his patience.

Besides, if things kept going that slow route and pace, then his plans to meet with Pharah and discuss the academy would be thwarted before they even got started.

He needed to avoid that kind of scenario at all costs.

It wasn't enough that he was a weak and irrelevant supporting character, there was also the fact that he was far behind the level of the other people who would come his way.

That was why he needed to be prepared to go to the Academy.

'And it's not like I have many options to begin with.' He thought inwardly.

After all, his entire future would depend on whether or not the boy was able to become someone worthy and powerful enough not to die in any of the ending variations of the original LOTH script.

That is, assuming, of course, that he was able to play 'Death' for a fool in the events in the dungeon he was supposedly destined to die in, according to the LOTH chapters.

''I understand...'' Doctor Lucien commented, rising from his seat. ''But still, just out of concern I'm going to do a few more quick procedures.''

Ezran controlled his inner urge to roll his eyes. He wanted to look as noble as possible.

His reputation of infamy would do him no good for the time being.

He needed to try to keep this erroneous impression of himself as far away as possible, to fix his distorted image in people's perspectives.

"Is this going to take long, Mister Lucien?" the boy asked, narrowing his eyes in a kind of pleading.

Ezran stirred inwardly as he made that expression.

He felt like a complete idiot.

It was disappointing to remember that if he counted the years he spent living on his original Earth, he was 23 years old mentally and still forced to take such drastic measures.

"Don't worry about it, young master." The man in the white coat answered. ''It won't take more than five minutes tops!''

Little did Ezran know it was nothing more than a lie from a worried man...

***************

''Freedom... at last!'' He muttered, sitting down on one of the seats scattered around the huge table in the room where the dishes were served by servants.

Exhausted, Ezran sighed deeply, lifting a weight from his shoulders after Doctor Lucien had finally released him from the office he used, in the southernmost wing of the penthouse where he lived.

"Is there a problem, young master?"

A soft voice sounded beside him.

Forcing a friendly expression onto his face, Ezran smiled innocently.

His blue eyes captured the moment when Pharah immediately straightened up, as she noticed Ezran exiting through the door to the room used by Doctor Lucien.

'Weirdo…' He thought.

Then, without wasting any more time, he gestured to answer the woman in front of his slender and thin figure.

"Honestly, no." Ezran stated, closing his eyes for a second. "By the way, thank you so much for making me go see the doctor. It was really necessary."

He shot Pharah a look that hinted of anger, intoning the last parts of his sentence with a hint of sarcasm and irony in his tone.

But she didn't seem to notice, waving her hands excitedly.

"My pleasure, master!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining. ''But now that you've left the room, wouldn't it be better to rest next to the doctor?''

She paused a second, taking in Ezran's impassive expression.

Noticing the boy's clear disinterest, she seemed to ignore her instincts and just continued with her monologue.

''I imagine you've already met Doctor Lucien. I recently hired him, of course, because the others were incompetent."

Ezran sighed once more.

He stared at the young girl, who didn't look that much older than him.

''There is no need for such drastic measures. That would just be a waste of time.'' He replied, more uninterested than before. ''I still don't readily remember my current situation, but I know enough to handle the basics of things.''

Ezran didn't plan on saying that he actively remembered all of his life in that world.

After all, things could take an unexpected turn the moment he said that.

To say that he remembered the current situation would be stupid of him, because if the boy said he didn't remember things very well, he would have more freedom to act as he pleased.

And to begin with, he hadn't been given the body's memories, or some sort of mysterious system that would aid him in his endeavor.

Besides, he didn't have any relevant information about the original Ezran, so he'd better keep to a more succinct manner, albeit with some grimaces from the former body bearer.

"I see." Pharah relaxed, her shoulders hunching slightly. ''I would still recommend that the doctor keep a close eye on you, but I will do what you ask, master.''

''Of course, of course.'' Ezran said. ''Anyway, I still have some questions to ask.''

The woman narrowed her eyes.

She looked suspicious of Ezran's meek ways.

It was obvious she wasn't used to seeing him that way – not least because, even if she didn't know it, the consciousness in the boy's body wasn't of the original Ezran's.

''Ah, yes, Young master.''

''What day are we on?''

Pharah looked a little surprised and blinked in bewilderment.

''Huh...'' She started. ''It's March 22, Young master.''

''I see.''

The two fell strangely silent for a few seconds.

A somewhat tense and shameful atmosphere took over the region, before Ezran broke the ice and once again began to fire his torrent of questions.

''What nationality are you from?'' He asked.

She took a moment to answer him, still curious as to the reason for his questions.

''I'm half American and half Japanese. But I was raised in the Glitter colony.''

'Oh!' The red-haired youth exclaimed internally. 'So my suspicions really were right.'

Those green eyes were unmistakable to a true [LOTH] fan.

That was why he was sure he'd read in some chapter about the description of the appearance of that girl who claimed to be his bodyguard, and now he knew why.

After he died in his own sister's hand, she would eventually go to work under Damian's jurisdiction, and from there she would pave her way into the main characters' group.

'She is as beautiful as the author used to say.'

Pharah's hair, which was short dark brown, cropped to her shoulder length, and her ghostly green eyes, serene and deep, were exactly like the description of the novel Ezran had read so many times.

Furthermore, the factor that had confirmed to him the identity of that girl before him was the fact that it had always been strongly stated in LOTH that Pharah was half Japanese and half American.

''How many languages ​​are you able to speak, Miss Pharah?''

''Japanese, English and German.'' She said. ''I'm a little fluent in Korean and Mandarin too, but I'm not very good.''

It was really interesting.

The novel had never mentioned things like how many languages ​​Pharah could speak--perhaps that was exactly why Damian found her so useful that he hired her.

''H-huh...'' Pharah looked hesitant to say anything.

Seeing this, Ezran genuinely smiled and encouraged her to express what was stuck in her mind so they could better interact.

Still slightly flustered, Pharah asked shyly, "Young master... Why are you asking me these questions?"

Ezran, who was anxious, rose from his chair and began to take steps toward the exit, while slowly gesturing for the bodyguard to approach him.

Without batting an eye, Pharah heeded the red-haired man's orders and followed immediately.

''You see. I'm just asking questions to see if the facts are correct. Understand?'' He said, patting his shirt. ''Now, what nationality am I?''

''You would originally be from Italy, sir. However, you're a Glitterian just like me.''

The world had changed.

Nationalities might still exist, but people preferred to address themselves based on the colony they lived in since the monsters first emerged.

''.....''

Her eyes drooped a little, in an almost imperceptibly way.

Ezran ignored that and continued. He didn't mean to depress her at all.

''What languages ​​can I speak?''

''You only speak English when you're around me, Young Master.'' Pharah stated. ''However, I heard from Mister Damian that you can speak a total of more than four languages.''

He nodded in agreement.

Everything looked as specified in the original work.

''And how long have you been working for me, miss Pharah?''

''Only about seven months, Young Master.''

Ezran nodded once more.

Up until that point, all the information stated was correct, which was reassuring -- even if it kind of stated the fact that his death might actually happen.

Letting his smile finally fade from his face, he gave Pharah one more order.

''I would like that you take me to Brivid Academy. Guess I can't let myself wander any longer.''

As far as the dates he remembered dictated, he was already late to the original invitation.

The Academy classes had started two days ago, but what could he have done about it?

He was still making his preparations at that time.

That was why there was no more time to waste. He needed to get there as soon as possible.

What's more, Ezran might as well leave it to interact with Pharah later.

He had many more important concerns now.

''Yes, sir.'' Pharah, still somewhat confused, obeyed. ''But first, I recommend that you take a shower and put on some proper clothes for the occasion, Young Master.''

Blushing slightly with embarrassment, Ezran walked to his bedroom door and there he began to get ready.

That would be the day when everything would change.

The day he would meet those magnetic catastrophe attractors...