The old wooden door creaked open, as if even it was tired.
A small boy stepped inside, a schoolbag hanging from his shoulder.
Shion Amano — only five years old.
In his tiny hands, he held a folded sheet of paper. On it, messy crayon strokes showed a smiling family: a mother, a father, and a little boy. Perfect.
But inside the house… it was the complete opposite of that picture.
Silence.
No cheerful voice calling, "Welcome back, Shion!"
No warmth. No smile.
Only cold air and photo frames where happiness existed only in the pictures.
Shion quietly walked to his room. His small footsteps echoed, but no one listened.
The loudest sound inside that house was silence itself.
---
Evening came. Just before dinner, a thunderous voice shook the walls.
"SHION!!"
It was Ryu Amano — his father.
The sound made Shion's small heart freeze. His feet instantly rushed toward the hall.
"Y-Yes… Dad?" he asked, voice trembling.
A familiar fear rose inside him.
Not again… please, not today…
Ryu sat calmly on the sofa, his eyes cold.
"Come here, Shion. Sit beside me."
The boy's legs trembled as he stepped closer.
"Yes, Dad…"
"Show me your hand."
Shion shook his head, lips quivering.
"N-No… Dad, please… it hurts so much… I can't take it anymore…"
Ryu's voice turned even colder.
"In this world, before happiness comes pain. Weakness gives you nothing."
And in that moment, he pressed the lit cigarette against Shion's skin.
"AAHH!! Dad, please stop!!"
His cry tore through the silence of the house.
---
From the other side of the hallway, another figure appeared — Yuki Amano. His mother.
She saw her son — tears streaming down his face, his body trembling. Shion looked at her with desperate eyes.
"Mom… please… say something… stop Dad…"
But her face was blank.
No love. No concern. Just a tired emptiness.
She stood still for a moment, then turned away… and walked back.
Shion's heart shattered. In that moment, he realized—
His mother was only "mother" in name. All warmth inside her had long died.
---
That night, Shion lay in bed, clutching his hand in pain.
But the emptiness inside hurt far more.
And only one thought kept repeating in his head:
Mom didn't say a word.
Sometimes, the deepest wounds are carved not by actions… but by silence.
Morning came. The maid knocked softly.
"Shion, wake up. You have martial arts training today."
"…Okay. I'll go," he whispered.
For him, training wasn't punishment.
It was his only escape.
---
Years passed.
And with each passing day, his scars — both on skin and heart — grew deeper.
By the time Shion turned twelve, another Sunday morning arrived. He was walking silently past his parents' room when loud voices erupted from behind the door.
Yuki's voice, sharp and furious:
"Because of your mistake, this child even exists, Ryu! You've turned my life into a lifeless routine!"
Ryu's anger exploded too.
"This isn't just my mistake, Yuki! It was both of ours—and now all you do is blame!"
Shion froze outside the door. Each word pierced like a knife.
The door suddenly opened. Yuki's eyes fell on him—filled with hatred and exhaustion.
"You are our biggest mistake, Shion."
For a moment, time stopped. His face turned to stone. Without saying a word, he pulled out a folded sheet from his bag.
"…This is my report card."
And then he ran.
Yuki unfolded the paper. For the first time in years, softness appeared in her eyes.
"Ryu… look. Shion came first in the class l."
Ryu stood in shock. Silence lingered between them.
But for Shion, that moment never existed.
The only truth was his mother's words echoing inside him—
"You are our biggest mistake."
---
At the dojo, Shion tightened his gloves.
That line kept ringing in his ears.
"You are our biggest mistake."
The trainer's voice boomed:
"Next match—Shion vs. Kando!"
The match began.
The first punch—his mother's face, when she ignored him.
The second punch—his father's calm expression as he hurt him.
The third punch—her cold voice: "You are a mistake."
His fists grew more violent. His eyes carried no rage—only a silent storm breaking loose.
"Shion! Stop! That's enough!!" the trainer shouted.
But Shion couldn't stop.
His opponent was already down… yet Shion was still trapped in that room, still hearing his mother call him a mistake.
Sometimes the most dangerous rage is the one that doesn't scream—
It only punches.
Time ran fast, but scars never left.
At fifteen, Shion stood at the funeral of his mother.
People in black surrounded the grave. Tears fell, prayers were whispered.
And Shion stood among them… eyes hollow.
As the coffin sank into the earth, mourners wept.
And then—Shion's lips curved.
First a faint smile.
Then a small laugh.
Then uncontrollable laughter.
"Haha… hahaha…!"
The graveyard fell silent.
"What's wrong with him?" someone whispered.
"Laughing at his mother's funeral?"
Ryu Amano only glared at his son, his eyes burning with shame.
But Shion kept laughing.
Some pain runs so deep, tears can't express it.
It only comes out as a hollow smile.
After the funeral, the house felt emptier than ever.
Two figures sat in silence — Ryu and Shion.
"Weren't you ashamed, Shion? Laughing at your mother's funeral?" Ryu's voice cracked the silence.
Shion's cold smile remained.
"No. Not at all."
His tone carried no guilt, no regret. Only a quiet, icy insult.
Ryu's patience snapped.
SMACK!
The slap echoed through the hall.
Shion didn't cry. He didn't even flinch. He only smiled.
"…Thanks, Dad."
And then his fist shot forward.
One punch. Then another. A kick.
Until Ryu lay on the floor, blood at the corner of his lips.
Shion, trembling, shouted:
"You were never worthy of being called a father!"
Ryu stared up at him, guilt or maybe shock clouding his face. Slowly, he pulled a key from his pocket and tossed it on the floor.
"From today… you're my son only until you can live on your own. Go. Start your new life."
Shion picked up the key.
Inside his chest, a thought echoed:
"When Mom died… something broke inside me.
And when I struck my father… something opened.
This is my new life. Maybe without a mother, without a father… but for the first time, it's mine."
Two years passed.
Seventeen now, Shion lived alone in a small flat. The apartment was silent, but it was his safe space.
He felt weight pressing down on his chest. Slowly, he opened his eyes—
And froze.
Someone was sitting on his chest.
It was himself.
Another Shion. Dead eyes. A soft, disturbingly calm smile.
"Who… who are you…?" his voice shook.
The other Shion only smiled. Then leaned down and pressed his lips onto his own.
A cold kiss. No warmth. No love. Only control.
Shion's body wouldn't move.
"W-Why… can't I… move…?"
The figure pulled out a knife.
In one swift motion, the blade scar across Shion's face—raw, unforgettable. A thin line of blood trickled down his cheek.
The shadow didn't stop. It only smiled, leaning closer until their breaths mingled. Cold lips pressed against his once. Then again. And again. Each kiss felt emptier than the last—mocking, suffocating.
The figure's smile widened. The knife lifted again, gleaming in the dark.
And with the next kiss, it drove the blade straight into his chest.
Shion's eyes widened, pain exploding inside him—not just flesh, but in his very heart. His silent scream echoed in the void… before darkness consumed everything.he wakeup from dream
---
"AAHH!!"
Shion woke up gasping, drenched in sweat, heart pounding like mad.
He clutched his forehead, trying to steady his breath.
"…What… what was that…"
Morning light seeped through the blinds. He sat in silence at the kitchen table, staring at a plate of toast, egg, and milk.
He didn't eat. He only stared.
"Everyone's gone… and still I feel hungry," he whispered.
The toaster ticked softly.
Beyond that, silence.
---
At 7:20 AM, Shion put on his uniform — white shirt, navy blazer, perfectly tied tie.
His outfit was flawless, but his face still carried the weight of sleepless nights.
As he tied his shoes, his eyes wandered to a photo frame on the shelf.
Inside it, three smiling faces — Shion, Yuki, and a younger Ryu.
He picked it up, lips curling into a sarcastic smile.
"You two are still here… but only in pictures."
Then he turned the frame face down.
Covering the memory with silence.
The door clicked shut behind him.
And Shion Amano stepped into his new world—
where silence followed him everywhere.
--Chapter end --