Chapter 1
It had been just a day like any other. She had learned from her mother how to fold paper into delicate and beautiful flowers. Looking at her mother's sweet smile, she felt so proud at that moment.
Then everything fell apart.
She didn't know exactly when or how, but she remembered the destruction everywhere she looked. She remembered the screams coming from familiar voices. The voices she would not hear ever again.
The flames devoured everything in their path. The ground cracked and tore itself open. A flash of lightning struck someone right in front of her. Water surged through the streets, almost dragging her under. And the wind—sharp and cruel—had sliced the heads off her parents as they ran, hand in hand, trying to protect her.
It had all happened so fast, so brutally, that she hadn't even had time to understand what was happening. She couldn't believe that this was a reality and not a horrible nightmare.
By the time her legs gave out and she could no longer run, and her eyes dried out from the tears, she no longer knew where she was. Everything she had ever known was gone.
For the last two days, she had wandered between ruined villages. Every time she tried to ask for help, she was chased away. And all she could do was cry as the people around her looked at her with hatred and disgust—like she was something dirty, something less than human.
Just when she felt completely overwhelmed and didn't know what to do anymore, she overheard someone in a market stall talking about a crazy boy living in the wilderness.
She didn't know why, but that story gave her hope.
A boy from a town that had been destroyed—just like hers—who had gone mad and now lived alone in the wild, fishing and cooking like some mountain hermit. Something about that story felt familiar. Maybe even comforting.
Maybe because, for the first time, she had heard of someone who reminded her of herself, she wanted to see him. Someone who had lost everything like her, but unlike her, found a way to live.
Or maybe it was because the story had a kind of strange magic to it. A boy who came into town carrying bags of fish to trade for salt and spices, then disappeared into the woods again without a word.
She didn't know what she expected to find. But she wanted to see him.
Not even knowing why, maybe he would have an answer to everything that was happening. Or at the very least, she wouldn't feel so alone.
So she walked. Through the woods. Through the rain. Through the cold. She wandered between the trees, even as the sun set and the forest grew darker. She couldn't explain it—not even to herself—but she kept searching for that boy.
She was about to give up as the storm got worse. She was losing her strength and hope, about to cry herself to sleep again, like she had done the last two nights. But this time, she could feel it—if she lay down, she wouldn't wake up again.
Then she saw the light.
A warm glow between the trees, golden and flickering against the grey storm. And there he was—sitting by the fire, wild orange hair framing his face, clear brown eyes glowing in the light, a gentle smile on his lips as he looked at her.
He didn't look like someone who had been broken by unimaginable forces that she couldn't understand. He didn't look like someone who had lost everything like she had.
He looked… alive.
When she saw him, she couldn't believe he was from the same world as her. He wasn't like her at all—a girl who only knew how to cry. He wasn't cold and shaking, starving and scared. He looked calm, almost content. He was everything she wasn't, and that frightened her.
She wanted to cry again. She felt so pathetic standing there, soaked and silent. She realized, in that moment, that there was no place for her in this world. That she didn't belong here, and the others were right. She should have just died with her family and friends.
Until he spoke.
Just a single word. A greeting.
And then he wrapped her in a blanket and pushed her toward the fire. No hesitation. No suspicion. Just warmth.
For the first time since her world had ended, she felt the presence of another human being.
Someone who saw her—and didn't turn her away in disgust. Someone who looked at her with kind eyes that were full of warmth.
…
She didn't want to cry—not with that person nearby. But the nightmare was horrible. Reliving it again scared her so much. It made her feel so weak and little in the sight of those monsters that destroyed everything before them.
Seeing her strong parents die so quickly before her eyes, she couldn't help but feel scared and lonely. She only wanted to see her mother's sweet smile and be hugged by her father's strong arms. But now she had nothing.
Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. And suddenly, she didn't feel so alone anymore. She wasn't scared anymore. The hand was small, but so warm. It made her forget it all.
…
After Konan calmed down and fell asleep, Yahiko couldn't stay awake much longer either and drifted off into sweet dreams—dreaming of the massive fish he would catch tomorrow, and the candy he would buy at the market. And how happy Konan would be to eat it.
Interestingly, he never thought about his past life. Nor was there any reason to—it was boring and pointless. Friends who would only use him, and family who wouldn't give him even a glance unless they needed something.
Compared to that life, where he thought he had to do everything he was asked—pressured always to be liked, never good enough, just living like a slave for others because that was the "nice" thing to do—he much preferred this one, where he found freedom.
So, when he woke and found himself still in his cave, he felt relieved. From now on, all he wanted was to live for himself. Even helping Konan was something he did for his own sake, because it made him feel good. Nothing more to it.
He would not waste his second life, like he did his first. Even if it turned out to be nothing but a dream in the end, he would enjoy it to the very last moment. So if he ever woke up, he would at least have sweet memories of it.
"Konan." The sun was rising quickly, and there was no time to waste. "Wake up."
"Hmm?"
"I made some tea, and there's some warmed-up water in the bucket over here to wash up. I'm going to fish, so in the meantime, please clean up the cave and look after our stuff. I'll be back by midday."
"Hmmhm."
"Good. There should be some chocolate somewhere. If you find it, please leave a few pieces for me."
"Hmm."
Yahiko had no idea if Konan had really woken up or not, but he didn't care. He just wanted to make sure that she wouldn't panic once she noticed he was gone. Kids her age had quite an imagination—she'd probably assume the worst and might wander off looking for him.
And since he gave her some work to do, she'd be too busy to worry about useless stuff. Additionally, the cave needed some cleaning up. There were a lot of knick-knacks he'd collected, which he had just thrown into a pile, and now he had no idea where anything was.
It was a real hassle to organize everything. And it wasn't like he needed anything. Still, it would be nice if the cave got a bit of a cleanup. Even if they didn't live here long, comfort shouldn't be thrown away.
Well, he also wanted to find the chocolate before it went bad. He just couldn't remember where he threw it. Hopefully, Konan would find it and not eat it all. As much as he liked fish, he was still a kid; he needed something sweet once in a while.
…
It was a good day—at least, until a drizzle of rain turned into a brutal downpour in a matter of seconds. One moment, Yahiko was filling his bucket with fish; the next, he could barely see anything in front of him as rain fell like nails from the sky.
Because of how light the rain had been earlier, he'd wandered farther along the river to find a nice spot to fish. But now, he didn't think he'd make it back to the cave. And it was already midday. Konan was probably worried.
But there was nothing he could do except look for shelter under some dense trees. Not only was he completely drenched, but walking was also difficult. Wet grass and hidden puddles made the ground treacherous.
He almost twisted his ankle and fell over multiple times. Even when it didn't look bad, it was slippery. It was safer to wait it out. This kind of rain didn't last more than an hour, and he'd rather be able to see where he was going.
He certainly didn't want to end up like the kid with red hair—completely collapsed, face-down in the mud, with a puppy barking at him to wake up. The boy was nothing but bones, so light that the dog could even drag him by the leg.
Well, too bad for him—Yahiko couldn't just leave him there. Ignoring everything he knew and how foolish it was, Yahiko went to the boy and, after seeing he was barely breathing, lifted him onto his back.
Yahiko abandoned his fishing rod and the fish, as he knew he wouldn't be able to carry them back with the boy on his back. Hopefully, nobody would steal them, and he could get them back later.
Then he began the long walk back to his hideout with the dog following him.
Only a few steps out of the woods, Yahiko slipped on the grass and planted his face into the ground. At that moment, he knew it was going to be a long way back—but one step at a time, he started the journey.
…
Konan was worried.
The rain had suddenly gotten worse, and Yahiko still hadn't returned. She busied herself organizing the cave and cleaning up as much as possible. She even made tea with the herbs that were left around and kept the fire going, waiting for him.
She made sure that when Yahiko returned, he would have everything he needed and wouldn't have to worry. Konan wanted to do everything she could to thank her new friend for helping her when she was on the verge of giving up all hope.
But now, all she could do was look out into the rain. Waiting. Feeling uncertain and afraid.
She didn't want to be alone—but she wouldn't cry. She wanted to be strong, like Yahiko.
Then he returned.
Dirty, his clothes torn and bleeding from his knees and hands, he stumbled into the cave with a boy on his back and a dog following behind him. He looked at Konan with a smile—the same smile he'd given her when they first met.
"I got a new friend," Yahiko said, before collapsing in front of her.
She didn't know what to do. She just stared at him.
Then, just as Konan feared, Yahiko wouldn't get up. He rolled onto his feet and dusted himself off, as if that would clean away all the dirt and blood. It only made it worse. He still had a smile on his face, but somehow Konan felt he was faking it.
"It isn't as bad as it looks," Yahiko said, reading her expression. "Help me with the boy; he's worse than he looks."
Yahiko was right. The new boy was burning up. Konan helped Yahiko get the boy out of his dirty and wet clothes, then wrapped him in dry blankets and laid him down by the fire to warm up.
Meanwhile, Yahiko stripped off his wet clothing and washed up in the rain, then thanked Konan for the tea warmed by the fire. He was completely relaxed, like his hands and knees weren't scraped and bleeding. Like, there wasn't a dying boy next to them.
Konan didn't know how to feel.
Was she just worrying for nothing?
She didn't even want to ask what had happened—Yahiko acted as if nothing had happened at all. She just found herself feeling a bit silly, thinking that maybe she had worried too much. So, she just patted the puppy who fussed around, reminding her of her neighbor's dog before it all.
A.N. As always, thanks for reading and supporting me, so I can continue writing without any concerns, and if you want more, up to seven more chapters, you can support me on pa treon. com \ ironwolf852.