A little girl in a simple dress, painted with radiant, vibrant colors, ran with excitement as her long hair fluttered in the wind. Her hair was a strange blend of warm pink and orange, as if it had been forged from the glow of a sunset mingled with the dim reflection of flame. Sunlight shimmered in her eyes like gemstones.
With a bright smile gracing her lips, she cried:
"Grandma, Grandma… look, look! A pink flower bloomed!"
"Wait, my dear Hana, I'm coming," replied a gentle old woman in simple farmer's clothes, her voice warm with tenderness.
The backyard was quiet, filled with the scent of wet grass. Small trees cast faint shadows on the greenery, and among scattered plants stood a tiny pink blossom.
"Oh… it's rare for flowers to bloom in our garden! Today must be your lucky day, my little one. It's truly beautiful—just like you," said the old woman softly.
"Then let's pick it and put it in the kitchen!" Hana exclaimed eagerly.
"If we pluck it, it will wither in the end, even if it decorates the kitchen for a few hours."
"Eh?! Then what should we do?" Hana puffed her cheeks in disappointment.
"Instead, how about caring for it here in the garden, watering it every day? That way it will live longer… but you must take good care of it, alright?"
"Really? Of course! I'll water it every single day until it drowns!" Hana declared with boundless energy.
Her grandmother chuckled and patted her hair.
"It will die if you overwater it, too… hahaha!"
Their laughter echoed together, mingling with birdsong and the rustle of leaves swayed by the breeze.
It was not the first time Hana tried to catch her caretaker's attention with something so small, and it wouldn't be the last.
"Grandma, Grandma! Look, my hair grew longer!"
"Oh, it truly did! It's so soft and pretty… shall I comb it for you?"
"Yes, please!"
The little girl sat on the floor between her caretaker's knees, swaying gently with every stroke of the comb gliding through her silky locks. The sound of the comb slipping through her pink strands intertwined with the soft rhythm of the woman's breathing.
"You know, my little one…" her grandmother said in a tender voice, "hair is like life. Sometimes it tangles and becomes difficult, but with patience and calm, we can undo every knot without hurting ourselves."
She paused, then added with a gentle smile, her hand brushing over Hana's head:
"Never let harsh days strip you of your kindness, just as strong winds cannot uproot a flower with deep roots."
Though Hana did not fully grasp the meaning, she nodded earnestly, pondering the words.
Years passed, and Hana grew a little older, but she still wanted to impress her grandmother and make her proud.
"Grandma, Grandma! Look—I baked it in the shape of a heart!"
"Oh… you've improved so much at baking! That's lovely!"
Her grandmother took the tray of cookies they had baked with care and placed it into the oven. She turned back, noticing Hana no longer needed a stool to reach the counter; with just a stretch of her arm, she could touch it. Realizing her little one was growing up, she smiled warmly and hugged her suddenly.
"Eh?! W-what's wrong?" Hana asked, her face buried in her grandmother's embrace.
"Nothing… I just wanted to hug you."
Hana kept growing. By the time she turned thirteen, she made an important decision.
One day, as her grandmother sewed the final stitches on a piece of cloth, Hana sat before her, hesitating before clenching her fists with determination.
"I want to become a warrior! I want to learn to fight so I can protect you… and protect everyone from injustice!"
Her caretaker's fingers froze. She gazed at Hana with eyes full of surprise and worry, setting her needle aside. She drew Hana closer, stroking her hair.
"Hana… fighting is not a game, nor an easy path. It is a road paved with pain and sacrifice." Her voice was calm, yet heavy with concern.
But Hana did not waver. She looked straight into her caretaker's eyes and declared firmly:
"I know! But I don't want to be weak. I don't want to stand helpless if something terrible happens. I want to be strong enough to protect those I love!"
Before her grandmother could reply, another voice chimed in—familiar, yet tinged with irritation:
"That's exactly what I told her, but she's as stubborn as a rock."
Hana turned to see her friend Jessica at the doorway, arms crossed, her green eyes brimming with worry and annoyance. With her short blonde hair and confident stance, she looked ready to argue. She stepped forward and sat beside Hana.
"Hana, think carefully! Becoming a warrior means putting yourself in constant danger! It means getting hurt—it means suffering!"
But Hana only answered with steady confidence:
"If that is the price to protect those I love, I will pay it without hesitation!"
Jessica studied her face in silence, then sighed, her expression sharpening.
"Fine. If you're determined to walk this path… then I'll stay by your side, to make sure you don't get reckless."
Warmth filled Hana's chest. She smiled softly, grateful despite her heavy choice.
Her grandmother watched them both quietly before smiling as well, though worry still lingered in her eyes.
"Very well… Hana, my dear, I won't stop you. But remember this: true strength is not only a sword raised against enemies. Real strength lies in the heart, in mercy, in knowing when to fight—and when to stop."
Hana nodded, her lips curving into a gentle smile of gratitude, thankful for her grandmother and Jessica at her side.
Years later, Hana stood in the training yard, her body slick with sweat under the sun. She gripped her sword tightly and launched into a series of sharp, precise strikes.
Nearby, Jessica sat on a rock, watching her every movement.
"You've gotten so much better since last time… you must be overtraining, aren't you?" she said, frowning.
Hana laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck.
"Ehehe… n-no, of course not."
Jessica sighed, unconvinced.
"That's enough for today. Take a break."
"But I haven't finished today's drills yet!" Hana pouted.
Jessica stood and grabbed her hand.
"Come on, Grandma's waiting for us. Dinner's ready."
At the mention of her grandmother, Hana's face lit up instantly.
"Alright then, let's go!"
Jessica chuckled at how quickly she changed her tune.
"You're so easy to read… it's all because of how much you love her, huh?"
Hana smiled warmly.
"Of course. She's my only family."
She paused, then added softly:
"And you too, Jess. You're my family as well."
A faint blush crept onto Jessica's cheeks. She ruffled Hana's hair.
"You really are too sweet for your own good."
As they walked, Hana hurried ahead, eager for dinner.
The door creaked open, and Hana called out cheerfully:
"I'm back, Grandma!"
But her voice froze.
Jessica caught up, puzzled by Hana's sudden stillness. Then the smell hit her.
A sharp, suffocating stench.
She stepped forward, and her heart nearly stopped. Hana stood rigid, trembling, her wide eyes drained of life, her face pale as chalk.
Jessica followed her gaze—and gasped, clutching her mouth in horror.
Blood.
Dark red, thick, pooling across the floor, seeping into their shoes. The house reeked of iron, the silence suffocating except for the slow drip of liquid hitting the ground.
The curtains swayed faintly with the breeze, but the air was heavy, oppressive.
Hana's eyes darted slowly, her heart pounding like a drum, until they landed on the body.
Not the warm grandmother she knew.
But a broken, ruined shell.
Her limbs were twisted, her insides torn out, as if life had been ripped away mercilessly.
Her arm lay at an unnatural angle, bones crushed. Her leg bent grotesquely, proof she had struggled, resisted—yet failed.
Hana's knees buckled, and she fell into the pool of blood, staring at the mangled corpse.
Her voice cracked, trembling:
"Wh… what… is this? How…?"
But reality struck mercilessly.
This was no nightmare.
This was real.
And her scream tore through the air.
One cry after another, each louder than the last.
Her hands clawed at her hair, nails digging into her scalp as if she could rip the memory away. Her sobs broke into sharp gasps, choking, unable to breathe. Tears streamed until her vision blurred, her throat burning from the force of her screams.
Jessica's stomach twisted. She wanted to deny what she saw—but Hana's wailing snapped her back.
She rushed forward, wrapping her arms around Hana from behind, holding her tight, trying to stop her from hurting herself.
"Hana! Calm down, please!"
But Hana thrashed wildly, desperate to break free.
Jessica tightened her hold, feeling her friend's body quake in her arms. Tears welled in her eyes.
"I'm here… it's okay… it's okay…" she whispered desperately.
Hearing those words, Hana's resistance faltered. Her struggles weakened, her sobs dwindled into ragged gasps. Finally, she collapsed, burying her face into Jessica's chest, crying brokenly until her strength gave out—and she fainted in Jessica's arms.
Jessica clutched her tightly, as if she could shield her from the cruel world.
Her gaze fell to the floor—where a small sword lay abandoned.
Its hilt bore a carved symbol.
Her eyes widened as realization struck, her voice trembling as she whispered:
"No… it can't be…"
To be continued…