Just as Rasto was thinking this, a young boy cautiously ran over, holding two skewers of squid. His dark brown hair was shaped like a bowl cut. "Mister, are you hungry? Would you like some?"
Rasto's face twisted into a frightening smile as he shook his head gently. "No, thank you. You eat it."
The boy hesitated, then held the food out with a shy smile. "You can eat this if you're hungry. My mother has already made dinner at home. I know how awful it feels to be hungry."
Rasto was about to say something when he noticed the faint, healed scars on the boy's hands. A surge of anger rose in his heart. "What happened to your hand? Who did this?"
The boy awkwardly drew his hand back. "I cut myself helping my mom weave fishing nets. But that's all in the past. I haven't had to weave fishing nets for a long time now."
When Rasto heard this, the anger slowly faded from his face. A child from a poor family, huh.
