Akira lay on the floor of the dark cell, his body is trembling every few seconds, the pain throbbing inside him is like a wild pulse that refused to stop. Terracula hadn't just beaten him… she had tampered with his blood itself, forcing it to rush through his veins at a speed that nearly made them burst.
Two hours passed since she had left him there. He opened his eyes with difficulty. There was nothing inside him but the echo of emptiness. No anger… no rebellion… only a faint despair clinging to whatever remained of him. He looked at the shackles fixed around his wrists. He tried to move his hand, but his body barely responded.
He whispered, voice shattered and barely audible:
Why… why am I still alive?
The question was aimed at himself, not the world, as if life had become a burden without purpose.
[Twenty-One Years Earlier — Darkova]
The streets of Darkova were covered in the darkness of night. At the far end of the street, a woman with long brown hair walked slowly, her red eyes glowing like dying embers, her steps slow… without a clear destination. Near one of the dim lamps, a young man appeared, black hair, brown eyes. He carried a small toolbox, clearly returning from a long day of manual work.
He didn't have a strong presence… but his features were calm. He stopped when he saw her standing alone. He spoke timidly, lowering his gaze for a moment before lifting it again with caution.
"H-Hello… are you alright? You shouldn't be walking alone on a night like this."
She looked at him with little interest.
"Thank you… but I'm fine. I'm just going through a difficult time."
He nodded slowly, as if trying to understand her feelings rather than her words, then said gently:
"If there's anything I can… help with, just tell me. I don't like seeing someone wandering like that."
The woman raised an eyebrow. She didn't expect such quiet kindness.
"In truth… I'm not from this city. I was looking for a hotel, but I don't have any money."
He gave a small smile.
"That's alright… money isn't everything. If you need a safe place for the night… my home is nearby. You can stay there until things get better."
She froze for a second. She studied his face carefully, searching for hidden intentions. But his soft features held nothing but sincerity.
She asked:
"Are you… sure?"
He rubbed his hand nervously, as if he's embarrassed:
"O-Of course… I can't ignore someone who needs help. A cold night like this isn't fit for walking alone."
She lowered her head slightly, surprised by his unexpected generosity:
"You're very kind… but I don't want to be a burden."
He shrugged faintly:
"I don't really think about burdens… I just think about whether someone is safe."
She stared at him for a long moment, then said:
"Sorry… I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Mira."
He smiled shyly:
"That's a beautiful name… I'm Filippo. Nice to meet you."
He extended his hand to her slowly, with gentle hesitation. She extended hers too, touching his slightly trembling fingers… and felt his warmth.
Filippo gestured towards the street.
"Come on… my place isn't far."
They walked slowly through the dark street of Darkova. Mira felt an odd comfort as she followed him. She didn't understand why, and she didn't try to; she simply let her heart rest for a moment.
When they reached the house, Filippo stopped in front of a wooden door adorned with dark Victorian frames. The house wasn't luxurious, but it was elegant, with tall windows and heavy curtains.
He opened the door quietly, then spoke in a soft, low tone:
"The house isn't fancy… but it's clean. I think it'll suit you."
Mira stepped inside hesitantly. Warmth welcomed her: walls of burnt beige, polished wooden flooring, simple paintings on the walls.
She smiled lightly.
"That's fine… all that matters is that I found a safe place."
Filippo pointed to a dark red door with simple Victorian carvings.
"That's the guest room. If you need anything, Mira… just tell me."
She hesitated, then gave him a shy smile.
"Thank you, Filippo… I'm more grateful than you think."
Fillipo said:
"No need to thank me… what matters is that you're comfortable here."
He opened the door for her and left quietly to give her privacy.
[One Month Later]
Mira didn't realize how quickly time had passed. The house she entered with hesitant steps had become a place she felt strangely attached to. The days were simple but warm: short but sincere conversations, quiet dinners at a small table, a cup of tea every evening. And above all… Filippo's gentle presence was never demanding, because he was always there.
She watched him chopping vegetables in the kitchen. She spoke with soft gratitude:
"You really are a skilled cook, Filippo… I never imagined I'd stay in a home like this."
He smiled as he stirred the pan with steady hands.
"And thank you… for feeling comfortable here."
Her cheeks flushed, and she held the edge of her shirt nervously.
"Filippo… there's something I want to tell you."
He paused for a second, then turned to her with a reassuring look:
"What is it, Mira?"
She stepped closer. Her words came softly, as if afraid to break the moment.
"You're a good person… you mean a lot to me. And I think… I'm starting to feel something more than just gratitude."
Filippo's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't move abruptly. He approached slowly, carefully, as if afraid to startle her.
He whispered:
"You mean… you…?"
She lowered her eyes, unable to hide her shy smile.
"Y-Yes… but I'm not sure how to handle it. Every day I spend here… I feel like I don't want to lose you."
He moved closer, until the space between them held only their breaths. Then he lifted her hands slowly.
"Mira… I feel the same. I never imagined the day would come where I'd open my door to someone who would change my life. Every day I see you… I feel like the world becomes quieter… and more beautiful."
She whispered, feeling the warmth of his hands:
"Do you think… this could be the start of something real?"
He gave a small, shy smile.
"Yes. And I think… together… we can build something beautiful, if you're ready."
Mira lifted her gaze to him, her bright eyes saying what words couldn't. Between shyness and warmth, they shared a long calm look, like beginnings no one plans, yet they happen exactly when the time is right.
Two months of living with Filippo had shaped Mira's life in ways she never expected. Her feelings had grown quietly, and every morning, she felt she belonged more to this place.
But that morning… was different. Mira sat in the kitchen, on the wooden chair beside the rectangular table, staring at the pregnancy test with tense stillness. She could hardly believe the result… but the two lines were absolutely clear.
Her hands trembled slightly as Filippo walked in carrying a cup of coffee, his face calm as always, his voice low as he said,
"Good morning, Mira. Did you sleep well?"
She lifted her head toward him, her voice soft… but unsteady.
"Filippo… there's something I need to tell you."
He stopped in front of her, a faint look of curiosity in his eyes.
"What is it?"
She placed the test in front of him, slowly, as if her hand didn't want to let go of it.
"I… I'm pregnant."
He froze for a few seconds, staring at the test, then at her.
"Really?"
She answered:
"Yes… and I'm scared, Filippo. How are we going to handle this?"
He stepped closer, then sat beside her, taking her hand with his usual gentleness, with that calm she had always loved in him.
"You're not alone, Mira. We'll face this together. I'm here… and this child will be a part of us, a part of our love."
His words were simple, yet they landed in her heart with a warm weight. She finally breathed.
Nine months passed… and on the day of the birth, Mira lay in the hospital while Filippo waited near the door, pacing between standing and sitting, his heart uneasy despite trying to appear composed.
Then… the baby cried. But the atmosphere was not normal. Something… had changed in the room. When the nurse lifted the baby, it became clear there was something no one was prepared to see: small ears, shaped like a wolf's… sticking out clearly from his head. And a thin black tail, weakly moving behind him.
The doctor stared for a long moment, struggling to collect himself. Filippo walked in, and froze the instant he saw the baby.
He spoke in a low, strangled voice:
"What is this? This… this isn't normal."
Mira looked at the baby with fear and shock.
"But… how?"
The doctor tried to organize his thoughts.
"This… is unusual. I don't have a clear explanation yet. It could be biological traits… or something else. We need more tests."
But the doctor's words never really reached Filippo. He was staring at the baby… as if staring at a truth he was never prepared to face.
Then he turned to Mira, his expression darkening, his voice shaky and confused.
"Mira… what is this?"
She lifted her head, her eyes filling with tears.
"What?"
He raised his voice, staring at the baby again:
"How do you explain this? How can this child… why does he have these ears? And that tail? He's not human! Mira… were you hiding something from me?!"
Mira's voice dropped:
"Filippo… I… I'm not human…"
A heavy silence fell. His face went blank.
"What? What do you mean?"
Mira spoke, her voice is trembling:
"I'm a wolf-shifter. I can take human form. I was afraid you'd find out… and hate me."
Filippo stepped back half a step without even realizing it. Not furious… just hit by pure shock that pierced straight through him.
Then he raised his voice:
"You're what? A wolf? You lied to me all this time? How could you… how did you live beside me like a human?!"
Mira lowered her head, her tears are falling.
"I was afraid of losing you, Filippo. I thought you wouldn't accept me if you knew the truth. I never wanted to hurt you. I thought the baby would be born human as long as I stayed in this form. I'm sorry… I never meant for this."
He looked at the baby again… then shouted,
"And now you expect me to believe this is our child? This creature? He'll never be my son!"
Mira broke completely, clutching the baby as she cried.
"Yes… he is our child. He came from our love. He's not at fault… he's a baby like any other…"
But Filippo heard only one thing inside his head: fear.
He stepped back again, struggling to breathe.
"You don't understand the shock I'm in. I can't stay with you anymore… how am I supposed to live with… something like this?!"
With that sentence… something shattered in a way that couldn't be easily repaired. Filippo moved toward the door, at first with hesitant steps… then faster, as if fleeing from something he couldn't bear to see. He left the room without looking back and slammed the door.
Mira remained alone with her baby, a heavy silence soaking the room. She looked at the sleeping child in her arms. His face was small and peaceful, his breaths soft… but those little ears revealed a truth she could never hide. Her tears fell slowly, and she didn't try to stop them.
She whispered with a broken voice:
"How am I going to raise this child alone…? How will I protect him in a world where he isn't like the others? Especially when his own father rejected him without even looking at him…"
She gently laid the baby in his small bed, then sat beside him, her fingers brushing through his damp black hair. A name came to her mind… one that had been lingering for days without reason.
She smiled sadly and said:
"Akira… yes… his name will be Akira."
She looked at her child, then whispered:
"I'll do everything for you, Akira… I'll never leave you. And I won't let anyone cast you aside… the way your father did."
She leaned over him and touched his forehead with a small kiss. A kiss that felt like a promise that would never break.