Tools

I want to view them like this. I want to be like him, Ayanokoji. I want to use them, Use them for my own gain. I want to smile, Smile less. I want to be a string-puller, Not the one doing the action, But rather be the mastermind . I want to make, Make fewer friends, Make fewer lovers. And if I do make one, Let it be a tool-oriented-relationship— A tool I benefit from. I want to be king, But a king in the shadows, Making things happen, Happen by just pulling strings, Yet refusing recognition. I want to be reborn, Reborn into someone new, A new master with a harem, Tools laid before me. But I don't know, Don't know if I can bear, Bear the guilt, The guilt I feel for treating my tools as tools. I'm an emotional bitch, And that's what I don't want. I want to be a master With my own harem, Yet lie low, with no recognition. I hope I will, Will do so in my next phase. I'm sorry. Beware of me. I don't dislike you, Neither do I hate you.