Long ago, in a forgotten corner of the world where names were discarded like trash and fate wore a cruel smile, a boy stood - unseen, unloved, unspoken for.
Left at the doorstep of an orphanage.
Wrapped in silence.
No name.
No note.
No explanation.
Just abandoned - like a sin no one wanted to confess.
The caretakers took him in. Not out of kindness. Just because it was protocol.
> "We'll call him... nothing for now."
That became his identity - a shadow in a world full of light.
---
From the beginning, he was... off.
He never cried. Never begged.
Just watched.
While other children fought over torn toys and spoiled bread, he sat alone, flipping through books with missing pages - looking for answers no one around him even cared to ask.
> "Why are we born into suffering?"
"Do parents ever feel regret?"
"What happens when a life is unloved from the start?"
The caretakers scolded him.
The other kids mocked him.
> "Stop asking weird things."
"You're creepy."
"You talk like you're already dead."
So he stopped talking.
But the questions didn't die.
He just buried them deep inside and called it breathing.
---
One afternoon, while sweeping leaves, he saw a boy trip and fall.
Blood.
Sobbing.
Pain.
He took a step forward - a silent instinct to help.
But before he could move, a woman ran in.
She held the boy like he was a piece of the universe.
> "You're okay, sweetheart."
A kiss to the forehead.
A hug that fixed everything.
Then the father appeared. Smiling.
The child pointed to where he fell.
> The father slapped the ground playfully. "Bad ground! Don't hurt my son again."
They laughed. Together. As a family.
A moment of love so warm it felt like the sun had stopped to watch.
And the boy... just stood there.
Unseen.
Uninvited.
> "If I fell... would the world even notice?"
"If I died here, would anyone bury me?"
---
He didn't want everything.
Just something.
Someone.
Someone who would look at him like he mattered.
---
That night, under the cracked ceiling of the storeroom, he whispered to no one in particular:
> "God... if you're up there..."
"Why did you make me, just to throw me away?"
"What did I do wrong before I was even born?"
No answer.
Not even an echo.
---
Then came the rich couple.
The fake smiles. The rehearsed kindness.
The children lined up.
Wide smiles. Brushed hair. Hope in their eyes.
He stood at the back - not out of shyness.
Just... exhausted.
> "Maybe... they'll see something in me."
They didn't.
Their eyes scanned past him like he wasn't real.
They picked another child.
A louder one.
A shinier one.
He didn't cry.
He just stood there.
Longer than he needed to.
Because sometimes, the deepest pain is in waiting - waiting for someone to turn back... and never do.
> "I'm not broken."
"I'm just... here."
But no one looked back.
---
That evening, his illness returned.
The one no doctor ever truly diagnosed.
Not deadly. Just permanent.
Like a curse that whispered in his bones.
> "Maybe next time," he told himself.
Even he didn't believe it.
---
Then... a new voice.
> "What a quiet little boy."
He looked up.
A woman.
Not like the others.
She wasn't trying to impress anyone.
She knelt beside him. Eyes calm. Smile soft. No act.
> "What's your name?"
He said nothing.
He had nothing to say.
> "No name? Then I'll give you one."
> "Akira. It means light."
Light?
He didn't believe in that.
But he wanted to.
Just once.
> "Shall we go home, Akira?"
She extended a hand.
No chains. No lies. Just... a hand.
He hesitated. Not because he didn't want to go.
But because he didn't want to believe another lie.
Still...
His legs moved.
He took her hand - not out of hope.
But because, for the first time in his life, someone chose him.
Not because he smiled the loudest.
Not because he begged.
But because she saw him - truly.
---
He walked out of that place with a name.
With a hand to hold.
With a flicker of something unfamiliar in his chest.
> Maybe... this was the start.
But little did he know...
> The world wasn't done hurting him yet.
And the name he was given... would one day echo like a curse in the ears of gods.
---
[End of Chapter 1]