The week leading up to the boutique's "Local Artisans Day" passed slowly but anxiously.
Every moment inside the apartment felt like it was balancing between fear and hope.A trembling line.One wrong step could break everything.
But his mother…She was preparing with a determination he had never seen before.
She spent the entire week sewing, adjusting, re-sewing, cleaning, ironing, and packaging each wallet with trembling care. She didn't want to embarrass herself at the boutique.
The toddler watched her from the floor, sitting on a small blanket.
He didn't interrupt her.
He didn't cry, didn't fuss, didn't demand attention.
Instead, he quietly sorted fabric pieces by size, or brought her dropped pins, or stacked the packaging boxes neatly beside her.
Her heart softened every time she glanced at him.
"You're… so helpful," she whispered, voice cracking. "I don't deserve a child like you…"
He didn't respond.
But he wanted to say:
You deserve far more than this life has given you.
The night before the event, they sat at the small foldable table eating a simple meal—rice porridge again.
Her hands shook as she held the spoon.
"I'm scared…" she whispered suddenly.
He looked up at her, waiting.
She stared at the table.Eyes distant.Haunted.
"I'm scared they'll laugh at me… That I'll embarrass myself…"
A long silence.
"Your father…" she whispered. "He was the confident one. He could talk to anyone. He wasn't afraid."
The toddler's heartbeat slowed.
She almost never talked about him.
She continued—soft, fragile:
"He would've been so happy to see you. You're so calm… so mature…"
She covered her mouth.
"He would've been proud. Of both of us."
The toddler placed his tiny palm on her wrist.
She looked down at him—eyes filling again.
"I want to do this," she whispered. "Not just for the boutique… but for you. I want to show you that mama can be strong too."
His little voice came out soft but clear:
"Mama strong."
She burst into tears.
Not of pain.
But of courage.
"Yes… I'll try to be."
Near midnight, shouting erupted again outside their door.
The sewing shop owner.
Drunk.
Screaming.
Throwing objects.
"You RUINED me!""I HAD customers before YOU!""You think you're BETTER THAN ME?"
His mother froze… but this time she didn't cry.
She simply held the toddler close and whispered:
"You're with me. They can't break me now."
The teenage boy tried to pull his father back.
"Dad, stop! STOP!"
But the man shoved him away and staggered down the hall, muttering curses.
Then he yelled one final, terrifying threat:
"IF I SEE YOU TWO AGAIN, I'LL—"
A door slammed.
Someone dragged him away.
The toddler's eyes darkened.
This man was no longer a rival.
He was a danger.
If he came near them at the event…if he tried to hurt her…
The toddler would remember.
He never forgot enemies.
Not in his first life.Not in this one.
The next morning, something strange happened.
As his mother prepared to leave for the event, a sleek luxury sedan rolled into the dirty alley of their neighborhood.
Completely out of place.
Windows tinted dark.Engine quiet.Polished metal gleaming against the cracked concrete.
People peeked through doors and windows.
No one rich ever came here.
The car stopped.
And the businessman stepped out.
Tall.Immaculately dressed.Cold eyes scanning the area with interest.
Neighbors stared in awe.
His mother froze at the doorway, clutching the stroller handle.
The businessman didn't look hostile.But he looked… curious.
Too curious.
He walked past the gossip woman, who bowed awkwardly.He walked past the sewing shop, glancing at the broken sign.He walked past the teenage boy's confused stare.
Finally, his eyes landed on the toddler.
The toddler met his gaze.
Calm.Unblinking.Sharp.
The businessman's eyes narrowed slightly.
He had seen that look before—from men in boardrooms, not babies.
He approached.
His mother panicked, stepping protectively in front of the stroller.
"S-Sir? Can I help you?"
He gave a polite smile.
"You must be Seo Hana."
Her heart stopped.
"H-How…?"
"I've heard about your work," he said smoothly. "I plan to attend the event today. I wanted to see where you lived. To understand your story."
Her breath shook.His voice was gentle—but there was steel behind it.
He crouched slightly to look at the toddler—
Not too close,not threatening,but curious.
"You have a quiet child."
His mother nodded nervously. "Y-Yes…"
The businessman studied the toddler's expression.
And something flickered in his eyes.
Interest.Recognition.Suspicion.
"This child…" he murmured,"…he has a rare look."
His mother stiffened. "He's just… shy."
The businessman gave a small smile.
"No. Not shy. Observant."
He straightened.
"I'll see you at the event," he said softly. "I'm looking forward to seeing your talent up close."
Then he walked back to his car.
The gossip lady whispered:
"Why would a rich man visit her…?"
The sewing shop owner murmured:
"She's attracting trouble…"
But the toddler?
He watched the businessman drive away.
This was no ordinary man.
He wasn't petty like the jealous neighbors.He wasn't unstable like the sewing shop owner.He wasn't cruel like the gossip woman.
He was a mover.
A player.
Someone who could change the entire board.
The toddler could feel it.
He would face this man again.Soon.And it would not be a simple meeting.
Back inside, his mother knelt beside the stroller and whispered:
"I'm scared… but I want to be brave… for you."
He placed his hand on her cheek.
"Mama… not alone."
She choked on a sob and kissed his forehead.
They packed the finished wallets.She dressed him in his best small outfit.And together, they stepped outside into the sunlight.
For the first time…
Not as victims.Not as invisible nobodies.
But as a mother and child stepping toward something bigger.
Something brighter.
And the world was watching.
Enemies.Allies.Opportunists.
The event would not just be a showcase—
It would be the beginning of a larger war.
One he was ready for.