Chapter 4
Siana's hands shook violently as she stared at her son. Her eyes were hollow, broken.
"Ryudien…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry… Please forgive me."
Ryudien's heart pounded in his chest. Something was wrong — terribly wrong.
"Mom…? What are you doing?" His small voice cracked. "Mom, stop! Don't—!"
But Siana didn't stop.
In one swift, horrifying motion, she ended her own life right there in front of him.
The sound was sickening. Then… silence.
Complete, heavy silence.
Ryudien stood frozen, eyes wide, unable to breathe. He stared at his mother's lifeless body on the floor as blood slowly spread beneath her.
Sorry…?
The word echoed uselessly in his mind.
You're sorry?
Tears welled up in his eyes, but he didn't cry. Not yet. The pain in his chest was too sharp, too deep.
You said sorry… and then you left me.
His small fists clenched tightly at his sides.
You just ran away. You escaped everything… and left me here alone.
A cold, bitter thought settled in his young heart:
…What about me?
After Siana's death, Blanco changed.
At least, that was what Ryudien desperately wanted to believe.
For the first few days, the house fell into an eerie silence. No more shouting. No more smashing bottles. Blanco even stopped drinking. He would sit for hours in the old wooden chair, staring blankly at the floor where his wife had died, his eyes empty and hollow.
One quiet night, Blanco knelt in front of his son.
His large, calloused hands were shaking.
"I… I failed your mother," he said, his voice cracking. "I know that."
Ryudien stood silently, not knowing what to say.
Blanco lowered his head until it almost touched the floor.
"I know you hate me. Hell… I hate myself too." He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. "But I swear to you, Ryudien… I'll change. I'll become a better father. I don't want to lose you too."
Ryudien's small voice came out hesitant.
"…A better father?"
Blanco nodded, tears slipping down his unshaven face — the first time Ryudien had ever seen his father cry.
For two weeks, it felt like a miracle.
Blanco came home earlier than usual. He cooked plain meals, sometimes burning them, and awkwardly asked if Ryudien had eaten. The bruises on Ryudien's arms and back slowly started to fade. For the first time in his short life, Ryudien allowed himself to hope.
But hope never lasted long in his world.
One rainy night, the front door slammed open with a violent bang.
Ryudien flinched hard, his small body instinctively curling up.
Blanco stumbled in, drenched and reeking of cheap alcohol. His eyes were red and wild. From outside, the mocking laughter of his drinking buddies could still be heard.
"Forget it, Blanco! She's already dead!" one of them shouted. "Drinking won't bring her back, you fool!"
The door slammed shut.
Heavy silence filled the house, broken only by the sound of rain and Blanco's ragged breathing.
He stared at Siana's empty chair for a long moment… then slowly turned his gaze toward Ryudien.
Something inside him broke.
"You…" Blanco muttered, his voice low and venomous.
Ryudien took a shaky step back. "D-Dad…?"
Blanco lunged forward and grabbed him by the collar, lifting the boy off the ground.
"Do you know what they said to me?!" he roared, spit flying from his mouth. "They said I destroyed this family! That I killed her!"
Ryudien's eyes widened in terror. "Dad… you promised… you said you'd change—"
"PROMISED?!" Blanco bellowed, shaking him violently. "Your mother abandoned me! She left me with everything — with you!"
His bloodshot eyes burned with grief and rage.
"And every time I look at you… I see her face. Her dead face."
A loud crash echoed through the house as Blanco threw Ryudien onto the floor.
"Dad—!"
But Blanco couldn't see his son anymore.
He only saw a painful reminder of everything he had lost.
Every day blurred into the same nightmare for Ryudien.
The heavy sound of footsteps outside the door.
The sharp stench of alcohol.
Then the pain.
One evening, Blanco burst in and immediately grabbed him by the hair, slamming him hard against the wall.
"You useless brat!" he snarled, breath reeking of liquor. "Do you know how much I suffer because of you?!"
Ryudien let out a small, choked whimper, instinctively raising his thin arms to protect his head.
Blanco struck him again without hesitation.
The first few times, he cried.
Then he learned crying only made Blanco angrier.
Eventually, he stopped making any sound at all.
By the time Ryudien turned seven, the fear had dulled into a cold numbness. He no longer cried out loud. No longer begged. He simply endured in silence, eyes empty.
One night, a stranger wearing a dark coat sat at the table with Blanco. The man glanced at Ryudien with indifferent eyes.
"So this is the kid?" he asked.
Blanco took a long swig from his bottle and answered flatly, "Yeah."
Ryudien stood frozen in the corner, heart pounding.
The stranger crossed his arms. "You sure about this? Once he goes to the Willoreach Welfare House, there's no taking him back."
Blanco let out a bitter laugh.
"Take him back?" He looked at Ryudien with tired, bloodshot eyes. "I can barely feed myself."
Ryudien's stomach twisted.
Blanco slammed the bottle down on the table.
"I'm done!" he shouted. "I'm sick of seeing your face every damn day!"
Ryudien's small body trembled. He bit his lip hard, trying not to make a sound.
"You remind me of everything that went wrong… of your mother… of this cursed life!"
Blanco turned his face away, his voice cold and final.
"At least there… someone might feed you."
Ryudien stared at his father in silence.
No tears came. Not anymore.
Deep down, he already understood the truth.
His father had never wanted him.
Looking at the large, imposing building of the Willoreach Welfare House, Ryudien felt something he hadn't felt in a long time — a quiet sense of relief.
He didn't cry for his mother. To him, her death had been her escape. Maybe this place would be his.
"Go on inside, dear," the social worker said with a gentle smile. "You're going to like it here."
Ryudien nodded silently and stepped through the heavy wooden doors.
End of Chapter 4