The boy did not stop running.
He left the town behind before the sun even rose.
Too many eyes. Too many questions.
He didn't like it.
The road ahead split into three paths.
One went toward a large city.One led deeper into the forest.One followed a river.
He stood there for a moment, thinking.
"Cities have people," he muttered."Forests have animals."
He looked at the river.
"…Water doesn't chase."
He chose the river.
For the next two days, he stayed close to it.
He drank when he needed.He washed his face.He rested near the sound of flowing water.
It felt safe.
But something still felt wrong.
That quiet pressure in his chest never left.
On the third day, he found trouble again.
A group of travelers sat near the riverbank. They had a fire going and bags filled with supplies. Merchants, maybe. Or just people moving from one place to another.
One of them saw him.
"Hey! You there!" the man called out. "Come eat with us!"
The boy stopped.
He looked at them.
Normal clothes. No weapons in hand. Smiling faces.
Safe.
Or at least… they looked safe.
He stepped closer.
They gave him food.
Warm.
Good.
He hadn't eaten properly in a while.
"Where are you from?" a woman asked kindly.
The boy shrugged. "The mountain."
They laughed softly. "Everyone says that."
He didn't explain.
Night came.
They told stories around the fire.
The boy stayed quiet, just listening.
For a moment… it felt normal.
Too normal.
Then one of the men asked:
"You run a lot, don't you?"
The boy froze.
"…Sometimes."
The man smiled.
"Show us tomorrow."
The boy nodded slowly.
But something inside him tightened again.
He didn't sleep.
Not fully.
Just like before, something felt off.
He sat up and looked around.
Everyone was asleep.
The fire was low.
The river moved quietly.
Then he heard it.
A small sound.
Metal.
His head turned.
One of the "sleeping" men was awake.
Holding a blade.
Watching him.
The boy didn't move.
Neither did the man.
Then the man smiled.
"Stay still," he whispered.
The boy ran.
Behind him, voices shouted.
More footsteps followed.
Not one.
Not two.
All of them.
The boy's eyes widened.
They were all waiting.
He pushed harder.
Faster.
His feet barely touched the ground.
Branches snapped behind him.
The men chased, but they were slower.
Much slower.
Still—
They knew where he would go.
He turned left.
They followed.
He crossed the river.
They followed.
He climbed rocks.
They still followed.
His heart pounded.
Why?
He ran until the sky turned gray.
Finally, the footsteps faded.
Silence returned.
The boy stopped on a high rock, breathing hard.
He looked back.
No one.
But the feeling was still there.
That same pressure.
That same invisible gaze.
"…Why do they always find me?"
Far away, in a quiet place, a man wrote something down and smiled.
The boy touched his wrist again.
This time, he didn't ignore it.