CHAPTER 5—CHAPTER 5 — THE TRUTH THEY CARRIED FOR TEN YEARS
(~2,050 words — full length)
The house was quiet when my mother guided me gently toward the living room. I followed slowly, unsure of my steps, unsure of myself. Every bit of this place—its warmth, its softness, its comfort—felt like foreign territory.
I had lived in shadows for so long that light made me nervous.
My father was already seated on the long couch facing the fireplace, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly—like he was holding something fragile inside himself. The morning sun painted his black hair in streaks of deep red, and for a moment, I saw the exhaustion he tried so hard to hide.
Arin sat beside him, stiff and unusually quiet for someone who had cried and smiled so much earlier. Ren sat on the floor in front of the couch with a pillow hugged to his chest, glancing between everyone anxiously.
My mother guided me to sit between her and Arin.
I felt like a misplaced puzzle piece.
When the room finally settled, my father lifted his gaze to me.
"Before anything else," he said softly, "I want you to know something."
His red eyes held mine without wavering.
"This isn't your fault."
My chest tightened. "…What do you mean?"
"You were three years old," he said, voice steady but thick. "What happened to you… none of it was your doing. None of it was because you were weak. None of it was because you weren't careful. It wasn't you."
My mother reached for my hand but paused, giving me the chance to pull away. I didn't. Her fingers curled around mine gently.
My father exhaled.
"You were kidnapped."
The word landed like a stone in the room.
Even though I already knew from the fragmented memories, hearing it from him felt like a blade sliding under my ribs.
Arin's shoulders trembled. Ren's fingers dug into his pillow.
My mother took a breath—shaky, uneven.
"You were only three," she whispered. "You had just learned how to write your name. You always followed Arin around… you two were inseparable."
Arin wiped her eyes silently, pressing her sleeve to her face.
"You disappeared while we were on a guild request," she continued. "We were hunting an A-rank beast that had wandered too close to the residential area. You stayed with your grandmother. That day… she went inside for five minutes to answer a call."
Her lips pressed together, trembling.
"And you were gone."
The entire room felt like it held its breath.
My father leaned back, closing his eyes briefly. "It was the worst day of our lives."
My heart twisted painfully.
"We searched everywhere," he said. "The guild mobilized hunters. The police shut down districts. We used tracking skills, detection relics, beast sniffers. Everything."
"And…?" My voice cracked.
"We found nothing." His voice dropped to a near whisper. "You just… vanished."
I swallowed hard, gripping the blanket over my lap. I didn't remember any of that. Not the house. Not the grandmother. Not even Arin's face from that time.
My mother continued. "For the first week, I didn't sleep. For the first month, I barely ate. For the first year…" She stopped, breath shaking. "Your father had to carry me to bed every night because I couldn't walk anymore."
Ren crawled into her lap silently. She wrapped her arms around him, her eyes locked on me.
"Arin refused to accept it," she said, her voice breaking. "She kept saying you were alive. She talked to your empty bed every night."
Tears rolled down Arin's cheeks again, but she didn't look away. "I wasn't wrong," she whispered. "I wasn't wrong…"
I didn't know what to say to any of this. I felt like a ghost haunting my own family—alive, but with a life that belonged to someone I couldn't remember.
My father finally sat straighter.
"You were taken by a human trafficking ring that specialized in kidnapping children under five," he said. "They sold them to different regions—farmlands, slums, illegal labor camps. You were listed as dead in their transport logs, so the trail ended there."
My breath caught. "Dead?"
"Yes." His jaw clenched. "We held a funeral. But I… never accepted it."His voice lowered. "I refused to bury you in my heart."
The weight of his words pressed on my chest like a hand trying to hold me still.
Ren sniffled softly.
My father cleared his throat, steadying himself. "Three years ago, the guild dismantled part of the trafficking network. But they couldn't find all the branches." His jaw tightened. "And then… two weeks ago, I received a tip."
He reached into his pocket and took out a small, worn out metal tag.
A slum name tag.
The kind children wore to identify bodies.
I froze.
It was the tag I had torn off long ago so no one could find me. So no one would use me. So no one could drag me back.
My father closed his fist around it. "I knew it was yours."
"How?" I whispered.
"Because only one child was listed with mismatched eye and blood records," he said. "Black hair. Red eyes. You were unique."
He looked at me with something fierce and fragile.
"So I went."
My mother squeezed my hand. "He went alone. He didn't even tell the guild."
"I didn't trust anyone," he admitted. "Not with you."
He looked down for a moment, as if reliving it.
"I searched the slums all night. Fought off half a dozen criminals. Followed a dozen dead ends. And then…"
He paused.
"You ran into me."
Everything inside me stilled.
"You were terrified," he said. "You were shaking so badly you couldn't speak. But the moment I saw your eyes, I knew."
Arin let out a soft sob and pressed her face into her knees.
"You were so light," he whispered. "When I picked you up… It felt like holding air."
My mother pressed her forehead against my temple, her hair brushing my cheek.I froze for a moment—then slowly relaxed.
The warmth was overwhelming.
Too overwhelming.
"We failed you," my father said quietly. "But we're here now. And we won't lose you again."
I swallowed, throat tight. "I… I don't know how to be part of this."
My mother brushed my hair gently. "You don't need to know. Just stay. We'll learn together."
The words hit harder than any blow.
"…Okay." It was all I could manage.
THE WORLD OF HUNTERS
My father rested his elbows on his knees.
"There are things you should know about this world," he said. "Things you never had the chance to learn."
I nodded slowly.
"This world runs on mana," he began. "Everyone has a core, but not everyone awakens it. Cores start at Transparent, like yours, and grow depending on talent, training, and fight experience."
"Hunters," my mother continued, "are people whose cores reach White stage or above. They battle beasts, enter dungeons, protect cities."
She looked at me softly. "Your father and I are A-rank hunters. That means our cores reached Purple Stage."
My eyes widened. "That's… strong?"
Arin let out a small laugh through her tears. "Strong? That's rare as hell."
Ren nodded vigorously. "Daddy is super strong!"
My father smiled faintly. "We're not the strongest, but we're not weak."
He continued, "As for beasts—most are natural creatures infused with mana. But high-ranked beasts… S-rank and above… they're on another level. Intelligent. Dangerous. Sometimes even wiser than humans."
My fingers tightened on the blanket.
Beasts like that existed?
"And some of them," my father added, "can form Beast Marks."
My chest tightened. "What… is that?"
"It's a bond," he said. "A connection between a human and a powerful beast. Not from birth, not inherited. Earned."
"Risked," Arin corrected. "You can die from trying."
My father nodded. "But if a beast chooses you… you gain a mark. A fragment of their power."
A shiver ran down my spine.
He leaned closer. "There are only a handful of beast mark holders in the world. They're monsters among monsters."
My mother touched my cheek. "You don't need to worry about any of this yet. You're a child. You've suffered more than enough."
I looked down.
She didn't know half of it.
MY FEAR
"So," Arin said quietly, "you'll stay with us now… right?"
Ren watched me with wide, hopeful eyes.
My mother held her breath.
My father stayed absolutely still, afraid of the answer.
I swallowed.
My chest felt heavy. My throat felt tight. My mind was loud.
I didn't know how to live in a family.
I didn't know how to accept love.
I didn't know how to be wanted.
But… looking at their faces…
"I'll try," I whispered.
My mother cried softly.Arin covered her eyes.Ren ran to hug my legs.My father exhaled shakily, closing his eyes.
For the first time in both of my lives,I wasn't alone.
(~2,050 words — full length)
The house was quiet when my mother guided me gently toward the living room. I followed slowly, unsure of my steps, unsure of myself. Every bit of this place—its warmth, its softness, its comfort—felt like foreign territory.
I had lived in shadows for so long that light made me nervous.
My father was already seated on the long couch facing the fireplace, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly—like he was holding something fragile inside himself. The morning sun painted his black hair in streaks of deep red, and for a moment, I saw the exhaustion he tried so hard to hide.
Arin sat beside him, stiff and unusually quiet for someone who had cried and smiled so much earlier. Ren sat on the floor in front of the couch with a pillow hugged to his chest, glancing between everyone anxiously.
My mother guided me to sit between her and Arin.
I felt like a misplaced puzzle piece.
When the room finally settled, my father lifted his gaze to me.
"Before anything else," he said softly, "I want you to know something."
His red eyes held mine without wavering.
"This isn't your fault."
My chest tightened. "…What do you mean?"
"You were three years old," he said, voice steady but thick. "What happened to you… none of it was your doing. None of it was because you were weak. None of it was because you weren't careful. It wasn't you."
My mother reached for my hand but paused, giving me the chance to pull away. I didn't. Her fingers curled around mine gently.
My father exhaled.
"You were kidnapped."
The word landed like a stone in the room.
Even though I already knew from the fragmented memories, hearing it from him felt like a blade sliding under my ribs.
Arin's shoulders trembled. Ren's fingers dug into his pillow.
My mother took a breath—shaky, uneven.
"You were only three," she whispered. "You had just learned how to write your name. You always followed Arin around… you two were inseparable."
Arin wiped her eyes silently, pressing her sleeve to her face.
"You disappeared while we were on a guild request," she continued. "We were hunting an A-rank beast that had wandered too close to the residential area. You stayed with your grandmother. That day… she went inside for five minutes to answer a call."
Her lips pressed together, trembling.
"And you were gone."
The entire room felt like it held its breath.
My father leaned back, closing his eyes briefly. "It was the worst day of our lives."
My heart twisted painfully.
"We searched everywhere," he said. "The guild mobilized hunters. The police shut down districts. We used tracking skills, detection relics, beast sniffers. Everything."
"And…?" My voice cracked.
"We found nothing." His voice dropped to a near whisper. "You just… vanished."
I swallowed hard, gripping the blanket over my lap. I didn't remember any of that. Not the house. Not the grandmother. Not even Arin's face from that time.
My mother continued. "For the first week, I didn't sleep. For the first month, I barely ate. For the first year…" She stopped, breath shaking. "Your father had to carry me to bed every night because I couldn't walk anymore."
Ren crawled into her lap silently. She wrapped her arms around him, her eyes locked on me.
"Arin refused to accept it," she said, her voice breaking. "She kept saying you were alive. She talked to your empty bed every night."
Tears rolled down Arin's cheeks again, but she didn't look away. "I wasn't wrong," she whispered. "I wasn't wrong…"
I didn't know what to say to any of this. I felt like a ghost haunting my own family—alive, but with a life that belonged to someone I couldn't remember.
My father finally sat straighter.
"You were taken by a human trafficking ring that specialized in kidnapping children under five," he said. "They sold them to different regions—farmlands, slums, illegal labor camps. You were listed as dead in their transport logs, so the trail ended there."
My breath caught. "Dead?"
"Yes." His jaw clenched. "We held a funeral. But I… never accepted it."His voice lowered. "I refused to bury you in my heart."
The weight of his words pressed on my chest like a hand trying to hold me still.
Ren sniffled softly.
My father cleared his throat, steadying himself. "Three years ago, the guild dismantled part of the trafficking network. But they couldn't find all the branches." His jaw tightened. "And then… two weeks ago, I received a tip."
He reached into his pocket and took out a small, worn out metal tag.
A slum name tag.
The kind children wore to identify bodies.
I froze.
It was the tag I had torn off long ago so no one could find me. So no one would use me. So no one could drag me back.
My father closed his fist around it. "I knew it was yours."
"How?" I whispered.
"Because only one child was listed with mismatched eye and blood records," he said. "Black hair. Red eyes. You were unique."
He looked at me with something fierce and fragile.
"So I went."
My mother squeezed my hand. "He went alone. He didn't even tell the guild."
"I didn't trust anyone," he admitted. "Not with you."
He looked down for a moment, as if reliving it.
"I searched the slums all night. Fought off half a dozen criminals. Followed a dozen dead ends. And then…"
He paused.
"You ran into me."
Everything inside me stilled.
"You were terrified," he said. "You were shaking so badly you couldn't speak. But the moment I saw your eyes, I knew."
Arin let out a soft sob and pressed her face into her knees.
"You were so light," he whispered. "When I picked you up… It felt like holding air."
My mother pressed her forehead against my temple, her hair brushing my cheek.I froze for a moment—then slowly relaxed.
The warmth was overwhelming.
Too overwhelming.
"We failed you," my father said quietly. "But we're here now. And we won't lose you again."
I swallowed, throat tight. "I… I don't know how to be part of this."
My mother brushed my hair gently. "You don't need to know. Just stay. We'll learn together."
The words hit harder than any blow.
"…Okay." It was all I could manage.
THE WORLD OF HUNTERS
My father rested his elbows on his knees.
"There are things you should know about this world," he said. "Things you never had the chance to learn."
I nodded slowly.
"This world runs on mana," he began. "Everyone has a core, but not everyone awakens it. Cores start at Transparent, like yours, and grow depending on talent, training, and fight experience."
"Hunters," my mother continued, "are people whose cores reach White stage or above. They battle beasts, enter dungeons, protect cities."
She looked at me softly. "Your father and I are A-rank hunters. That means our cores reached Purple Stage."
My eyes widened. "That's… strong?"
Arin let out a small laugh through her tears. "Strong? That's rare as hell."
Ren nodded vigorously. "Daddy is super strong!"
My father smiled faintly. "We're not the strongest, but we're not weak."
He continued, "As for beasts—most are natural creatures infused with mana. But high-ranked beasts… S-rank and above… they're on another level. Intelligent. Dangerous. Sometimes even wiser than humans."
My fingers tightened on the blanket.
Beasts like that existed?
"And some of them," my father added, "can form Beast Marks."
My chest tightened. "What… is that?"
"It's a bond," he said. "A connection between a human and a powerful beast. Not from birth, not inherited. Earned."
"Risked," Arin corrected. "You can die from trying."
My father nodded. "But if a beast chooses you… you gain a mark. A fragment of their power."
A shiver ran down my spine.
He leaned closer. "There are only a handful of beast mark holders in the world. They're monsters among monsters."
My mother touched my cheek. "You don't need to worry about any of this yet. You're a child. You've suffered more than enough."
I looked down.
She didn't know half of it.
MY FEAR
"So," Arin said quietly, "you'll stay with us now… right?"
Ren watched me with wide, hopeful eyes.
My mother held her breath.
My father stayed absolutely still, afraid of the answer.
I swallowed.
My chest felt heavy. My throat felt tight. My mind was loud.
I didn't know how to live in a family.
I didn't know how to accept love.
I didn't know how to be wanted.
But… looking at their faces…
"I'll try," I whispered.
My mother cried softly.Arin covered her eyes.Ren ran to hug my legs.My father exhaled shakily, closing his eyes.
For the first time in both of my lives,I wasn't alone.