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Anya knew that her Papa was a liar, a trait he had exhibited from the very beginning. That is why she found a peculiar sense of amusement in being able to peer into his mind, as it allowed her to uncover the truths he dared not speak. Yet, at times, his thoughts were overwhelming, prompting her to make a conscious effort to suppress her ability, especially when her Papa’s thoughts delved into excessive overthinking—a habit he frequently indulged in.
Tonight, however, Anya wished she could turn off her mind-reading ability, as the unveiled truth threatened to shatter the fragile hope nestled in her tiny heart.
Upon his return from yet another exhausting mission, Anya overheard her Papa’s thoughts in the living room while she listened from her room.
“After this mission, I’ll leave them, and WISE should be able to take care of them.”
Anya froze upon hearing these words echoing within her Papa’s thoughts. Unaware of her wakefulness, he continued to share his innermost musings.
“This was never meant to be permanent in the first place.”
To stifle a sob, Anya bit her lip. A flood of memories rushed back to her—her father’s repeated mantra echoing in his mind: “It’s for the mission.” Every act of kindness toward Anya was justified in his thoughts by the greater cause. Whether it was gifting her desired toys, like the coveted bondman spy gear or comics, or relenting on various whims, he consistently reaffirmed that it was all for the sake of Strix. Despite feeling loved at times, his internal dialogue incessantly repeated those heart-wrenching words: “It’s for the mission.”
Everything her Papa did was for the mission, a fact that never bothered Anya before. However, now, the realization sank in that he would always act in the name of the mission, never out of genuine love for her. He frequently reminded himself that Anya was not his biological daughter, a truth they both acknowledged. Although it was not a lie, Anya secretly hoped that, somewhere along the way, he might fabricate that detail as well.
Anya held onto the belief that excelling in school, earning numerous stellas, and befriending Sy-on boy could contribute to her Papa’s success in achieving world peace. In her ideal scenario, after the mission triumphed, Papa would become forever her Papa, not driven by the mission but because she had done her best.
However, the question lingered: was this truly her fate, her curse? Despite her earnest efforts to be the best daughter for anyone willing to adopt her, would she inevitably end up alone and unloved?
She concealed the tears and sorrows that weighed on her heart, choosing to keep them to herself as she forced her mind to drift into sleep, unwilling to confront any more of the bitter truths concealed within her Papa’s thoughts.
The following day, Anya awoke feeling utterly exhausted. The revelations swirling within her Papa’s mind continued to haunt her, stirring a tumultuous mix of sorrow and anger in her little heart.
The prospect of going to school seemed pointless to her. Why strive to do her best for Papa when, in the end, he would abandon her, leaving her alone in the gloomy abyss of darkness and uncertainty that surrounded unwanted children like herself?
However, Anya couldn’t afford to let Papa and Mama become suspicious of her. The secrecy surrounding her powers was paramount. She feared that Papa would undoubtedly leave if he discovered that she had been aware of his true identity all along.
Putting on a facade, she pretended everything was fine, though she couldn’t conceal the strain in her goofy demeanor. The weight of the truth she had gleaned from Papa’s mind made it challenging for her to muster genuine laughter and smiles.
The absence of Mama, due to a sudden work, seemed to intensify the heaviness in the house. Even Bond appeared despondent as Anya and Papa ate their breakfast in silence. Normally, she would regale Papa with nonsensical stories about her friends at school or tales of Bondman, but today, she felt no inclination to speak. She couldn’t shake the belief that Papa’s attention was solely driven by the mission, further deepening her sense of isolation.
Anya prepared for school, and when her Papa offered to help her pack her things, she immediately declined.
Papa seemed to notice her lack of enthusiasm, prompting him to ask with evident concern, “Anya, are you feeling okay?”
Anya looked up at her Papa, meeting his eyes filled with worry. Even without delving into his thoughts, she understood that his concern stemmed from her importance to his mission. Papa wasn’t inquiring out of genuine care for her well-being; he needed Anya to be okay for the mission, relying on her assistance. Despite the inner conflict, Anya resolved to continue doing her best as long as Papa was present.
However, she couldn’t shake the fear or the anger that simmered within her. Once, Papa had prided himself on being a cool liar, but now, Anya couldn’t help but see him as nothing more than a deceitful figure.
If Papa lies, so will she, for his mission.
“Yes, Anya is okay,” she replied.
Her Papa appeared dissatisfied with her answer, but Anya refrained from delving into his thoughts. The fear of hearing another “it’s for the mission” phrase loomed over her, threatening to shatter her once more and serve as a stark reminder that Papa’s care and love for her were conditional.
He would only express love when she was useful and aiding in the mission. The looming thought of being left alone again after Papa achieved his goals fueled her fury.
“Okay, then,” Papa spoke, “Come, I’ll take you to the bus stop.”
Papa reached out for her little hand, but Anya instinctively avoided his touch.
She refused to form an attachment to Papa, fearing he would eventually leave her like all the other guardians who had taken her from the orphanage. Anya was determined to learn to live without a Papa so that she wouldn’t be hurt or shed tears if he departed.
“Anya can go to the bus stop alone,” she stated firmly.
Papa’s eyebrows shot upwards, surprised by her assertive reply.
“No, it’s dangerous. What if you trip or fall on the way there?”
He attempted to walk closer to her and tried to hold her hand again. However, Anya promptly backed off and pushed him away.
“Anya doesn’t need you to take her to the bus stop!” she shouted to her father, who stood still, caught off guard by her sudden outburst. He blinked, visibly confused by his daughter’s unexpected reaction.
Disregarding Papa’s potential response, Anya defiantly went downstairs on her own, heading towards the bus stop.
“Anya!”
Papa called out to her, but Anya pretended not to hear him, quickening her pace as she exited their apartment building toward the bus stop.
She hoped fervently that the bus would arrive before she crossed the street, enabling her to board before Papa could catch up with her.
She ran faster, banking on the hope that Papa wouldn’t be able to catch her, despite knowing he was a swift runner.
“Anya, wait!”
Papa’s pleas echoed, but Anya continued to sprint, increasing her speed.
She hurriedly crossed the street without sparing a moment to glance both ways for approaching cars. She just wanted to escape from Papa, to silence his thoughts. If only she could rid herself of this ability, she reasoned, then she wouldn’t be hurt by him. She could believe in the idea that a Papa truly loved her.
“ANYA!”
BEEEEEEEEEP!
Anya abruptly halted, freezing in place as she saw a speeding car approaching. Her feet felt like they were glued to the ground, and she knew a collision was imminent. The overwhelming thoughts in her head made it difficult to process everything.
Suddenly, she felt a force pushing her from behind, causing her to tumble onto the ground and scrape her knees. She heard the screeching of the car and turned her head to witness the near miss. On the ground, in a familiar green suit she saw every day, lay someone who seemed unconscious. The shock of the moment seized Anya as she realized the gravity of what had just occurred.
“PAPA!”
Her tears streamed down uncontrollably as she hastily ran to her Papa’s side. Was he dead? Did Anya accidentally cause this?
“PAPA!”
Before she could shake him awake, Papa slowly sat up from the ground. Despite blood dripping from his head, he immediately rushed towards her.
“Anya!” He held her tightly, scanning her for any signs of injuries. “Did you get hurt? You have bruises…”
“Anya’s scar does not hurt,” she replied through sobs. “But Papa’s head is bleeding. Papa is hurt! Papa, don’t die, please! Don’t leave me!”
Anya wrapped her little arms around Papa, clinging to his neck as if afraid he would vanish if she let go.
She didn’t care if Papa saved her for his mission. All that mattered was being with Papa. What was important was that she loved him, and even if he left in the future, Anya would always be grateful for the experience of having a Papa.
But right now, he shouldn’t leave her! She wanted to be with him. Just let him be Anya’s Papa a little longer; it’s okay if not forever, just for now.
“Anya wants to stay with Papa, please, Papa!”
Anya felt her Papa’s hand gently rubbing circles on her back to comfort her, while his other hand caressed her hair tenderly.
“I’m not going anywhere, Anya. No one’s going to leave you, I won’t, okay?” His gentle voice worked to soothe her scared heart and uncertain mind.
She resisted the urge to read his mind, unwilling to confront the truth behind the lies. All she desired were the words he spoke, hoping to find solace and belief in them.
“Sir, are you two alright? Let me take you to the hospital,” a man’s voice spoke to her Papa.
“We’re alright. I have to attend to my daughter first. She’s really shaken.”
“But, Sir, you’re bleeding.”
“It’s fine; I can patch this up. I’m a doctor.”
Liar , Anya called him in her mind, though she acknowledged he wasn’t lying when he claimed he could patch himself up. Anya knew he did that secretly at home many times before.
Her Papa carried her back to their house, but Anya immediately separated herself when she remembered she had to go to school for his Plan A.
“What is it?” Loid inquired.
“Anya can't miss school. Anya needs to go to school for the Stella.”
Loid smiled gently at his daughter and patted her head softly, “You don’t have to worry about that. Let’s calm ourselves first. Alright, Anya?”
Anya blinked at her Papa’s unexpected reaction. She had expected him to be angry; after all, she was the reason he had a bleeding head, and now she couldn’t even go to school because of what happened. She felt like she wasn’t contributing anything useful to the mission, so why was he okay with it?
Anya knew that in his mind, he was likely concocting numerous plans for the mission. He was probably already worrying about the progress of the operation now that Anya was missing a day in school.
Summoning the courage, she decided to peek into his mind a little, just to gauge if he was angry with her for what happened.
“She really scared me back there.”
Anya’s eyes widened as she heard the thoughts pouring into his mind like a waterfall.
“I thought she was really going to die there. Calm down, Twilight. Why can’t I still calm down? Why am I so scared? She’s here, you’re carrying her. She’s alright, she’s breathing. But I almost lost her today. I was so scared when I saw that car almost hit her. What if she died today? I don’t know what I should do. I was so scared. Nothing in my years as a spy scared me like that. Did my mom feel the same way when the bombs dropped in Luwen that day? Did she fear that I was dead the same way I feared my daughter would die today? I can’t lose her. She’s my daughter. I don’t know if I can even carry on if she died there. I’m a failure as her father.”
Anya blinked again. She didn’t hear a single mention of the mission in his thoughts. It was all about her—how he was scared to lose her, not because she was an asset to Strix, but because she was his precious daughter.
That’s why, even with blood dripping down his face, he wanted to make sure she was okay. That’s why he risked his life back there. In his world, he could lose anything, but definitely not her.
“Papa,” Anya called to her father as he attended to her scars after patching up the wound on his head.
“Yes, Anya?”
“Anya is sorry.”
Loid gently smiled at her as he shook his head, “Don’t be sorry, Anya. It is not your fault that I got hurt. I don’t blame you.”
Anya bit her lip to stop her tears as she read that it was his real sentiment through his mind. She felt really bad at the way she acted awfully to Papa a while ago.
“Anya’s sorry for shouting at you in the morning and avoiding you. I’m sorry, Papa.”
“Oh,” Papa muttered as he gazed into Anya’s eyes, “I was wondering about that.”
“The way she didn’t call me Papa this morning, and the way she refused my hand and pushed me, those hurt me more than when the car hit me and the scar on my head.” Anya’s heart was touched by her Papa’s heartfelt thoughts in his mind.
“Why are you avoiding me, Anya? Did I perhaps do something that upset you?”
Anya debated whether to tell him the truth about the root of her distant behavior—the thoughts she had heard from him last night about leaving them.
“You can be honest with me, Anya.”
Anya met Papa’s unwavering gaze. It wasn’t the serious face she saw when asking him a homework question; rather, it was an inquisitive gaze that felt warm and inviting. It made Anya want to share the entire truth about herself.
“Then, will Papa be honest with Anya too?”
Now it was Papa’s turn to gaze at her with careful consideration. He softened his expression and nodded, saying, “I will.”
Anya didn’t have to read his mind to sense that he was sincere in his answer.
“Anya is not sure whether Papa really loves her,” she started, avoiding his gaze and hanging her head low. “Anya has been in the houses of different Papas. They all sent Anya back to the place with other kids like Anya resides. Anya thinks Papa would be like those other Papas because Anya isn’t Papa’s real daughter. Anya is no one’s daughter.
“Anya avoids Papa because she doesn’t want to love Papa even more than she already does. Because what if Papa returns her one day like other Papas? Anya will be so sad, and she will cry a lot. There will be no Papa like Papa again because Papa was the only one who always held Anya’s hands when she’s walking in the street. Papa is the only one who buys her peanuts. Papa is the only Papa who gifts her a soft Penguin toy. Papa is the only one who carries her on his shoulder when she cannot see the fireworks or to feed the giraffe. Papa is the only one who records the shows she missed on the TV. Papa is the only one who is willing to play Bondman for Anya in a castle. Papa is the only one who cooks Anya’s favorite meal. Papa is the only one who tucks her into bed. Papa is the best Papa Anya ever had, and Anya is scared one day she would lose Papa. I know Papa may leave one day, so I should be okay, but I don’t want to lose you, Papa. I don’t want you to leave ever again, so please don’t leave-”
Her words were cut short when she was immediately lifted from her seat and pulled into a tight embrace. Strong arms wrapped tightly around her.
Anya felt her father shaking. His arms trembled, and she realized her shoulder was getting damp. Papa is crying?
“I’m sorry, Anya. I truly am,” Papa said between his quiet sobs as he gently ruffle her hair.
She read his thoughts, and they echoed the thoughts she had heard the previous night—the thoughts that were the cause of her predicament.
“After this mission, I’ll leave them, and WISE should be able to take care of them..... But how could I ever leave? I doubt if I can ever do that.”
Anya returned her father’s hug and cried with him.
“I know this arrangement was never meant to be permanent in the first place,” Twilight said in his mind, “But how could I ever leave my daughter? What kind of a father does that make me?”
“I’m sorry that I never reassured you about this,” her Papa said, “But I love you, Anya, and you are my daughter. Didn’t we agree on the first day we met that you have always been my daughter? Always, remember that, hm?”
Anya nodded, and it made her Papa sigh in relief.
“I love you, Anya. I can’t afford to lose you too.”
Anya smiled as her Papa’s words echoed his thoughts.
“Anya loves Papa too.”
“Papa loves you more. More…”
“More than I can ever say, more than I can ever admit to myself, more than I intended to, more than the mission, more than my duty, more than peace, more than my life.”