I remember when I was around five years old—those days when everything felt so bright and full of love.
My mom, who cherished me more than anything in this world, and my father, my greatest hero who was always by my side. Life back then was like a warm light surrounding me. Sometimes, when I think back to those days, I wonder if it was all just a foolish dream—those moments when everything was right. Whatever I did, whatever I achieved, my parents loved me. They gave me gifts, praised me, and even when I made mistakes, they stood by me, guiding me with endless love.
But that dream shattered when I turned eight. My mother, the one who loved me so deeply and cared for me every day, passed away from illness. When she died, I didn't cry. Everyone else was crying, but not me. I didn't even understand what it meant for someone to be gone forever. It was the first time I saw my father cry, and it broke something inside me.
I wanted to cry
I wanted to cry
I wanted to cry
Again and again, but I had made a promise—to my mother. I barely remember her face that day, pale and fragile with tubes everywhere, but I remember her words clearly.
"Shu, my precious doll. You know I love you and your dad so much, don't you?" she whispered. "Tell me, Shu, do you love me?"
"I love you so much," I whispered back, hugging her tightly. She hugged me too, pressing against me as if she never wanted to let go.
"Shu, promise me something," she said, her voice trembling with barely held-back tears.
I didn't want to look at her, knowing it would break her completely.
"I may be going on a long journey soon, and I don't know when I'll come back. Until then, can you promise me you won't cry and that you'll be strong and help your father?"
I understood then. She was leaving me alone, going somewhere so far away I could never follow her. I wanted to cry, to scream, to beg her to stay, but crying would only make her pain worse. So, I held back my tears—for her, for him, for us—and promised I would be brave.
After she passed, my father tried to be strong for me, but at night I saw him break down alone, crying in the dark corners of our home. Over time, he began to avoid me. When I reached out, he pushed me away. Maybe my face was a painful reminder of her.
When I was in middle school, he brought a woman home holding a child in her arms—my new mother and a sister. At first, I was hurt and confused, but I accepted them for his sake, hoping she'd bring happiness back. The little one brings happiness in my life But mother never accepted me.She always treat me different from her daughter She also denied I even existed and didn't treat me like her child. My father would scold her, angry she didn't care for me, but soon he began abusing her. At first, it seemed tied to me somehow, but it spiraled quickly—daily violence, drinking, yelling. The Little one always seems scared from my father I tried to stop him for mother ...No for My little sister, but his anger turned on me too. The nights grew darker and more terrifying the only one I have is one person in my new family my little sister Miku.
Then, one day in middle school, my new mother hit me—for the first time. I couldn't say anything because I knew her pain came from the chaos I was trapped in. From that moment, the abuse became a constant storm whenever she unleashed her frustration on me. I cried and begged for mercy, but it never stopped. So, I buried myself deeper in success—studies, sports, anything to avoid being a target.
Through it all, my grandmother remained my sanctuary, the only one who kept us safe. We spent more time with her, building invisible walls between me and my parents, between me and the world expect two persons my grandma and my sister.
As time passed, everything around us began to change. Miku's once radiant smile, the one that always lit up even the darkest corners of my world, slowly began to fade. At first, I thought it was because of the constant quarrels in our family, the weight of unspoken words and broken bonds. But soon, the truth revealed itself—she was carrying an illness, one that was quietly stealing her life away.
The very person I cherished, the one I loved most, was slipping through my fingers. Fear consumed me, leaving me numb and helpless. I didn't know what to do. The thought of losing her carved an unbearable wound into me, a scar that I knew would never heal.
And yet, even with my heart breaking, I felt the need to protect her. For her sake, I put on a mask—a mask of strength and endurance, one that I could never let fall. No matter how much it hurt inside, I had to smile for her, because she deserved to feel loved until the very end.
School was no refuge either. Excelling made me a target—bullies hid my shoes, poured cold water on me, stuffed my locker with trash. Teachers reprimanded me for not fitting in. Friends were too scared to help, fearing they'd become the next targets. So, I withdrew even more.
Until one day, a boy with white hair and crimson eyes noticed me. I pushed him away, accused him of cheating, tried to humiliate him—but he cared. At the market, he apologized first when he didn't have to and help me without asking for anything in return. I couldn't understand why he was so kind. Maybe he was stupid, maybe he had a reason I didn't know—maybe he was scheming. But his words warmed me, like a small flame in a long night.
When my mother locked me in a room without food for three days, coming each night to release her frustration on me, I felt empty, ready to give up on everything. But he kept asking how I was, kept trying, pulling me back from the edge. It hurt and healed all at once.
Still, I saw him treat others differently—Zen, Aris, Luna—he was open or say real but with me he always cared, worried, and I wondered if I was just pitied.
I laughed quietly, thinking maybe the moments he said he wanted to be my friend were lies.he just pitied on me But even lies felt warm.
And so, when I stood before the hanging clothes, ready to end it all, ready to escape this life…
The door slammed open.
He was there covered in mud and drenched from head to toe, panting, but his smile was unwavering. Tears streamed down my face as I whispered a single word.
"Shu, don't worry. I promised I'd come to save you—as your friend," said the boy with white hair and crimson eyes, smiling.
His name is White
Tears streamed down my face as I whispered a single word.
"Yeah…"