In Held's memories, he was on the ground just like in the present time, badly hurt as if he had just taken a severe beating.
— You did something really stupid, you know, Held?
The voice belonged to a child the same age as Held back then, around ten years old. Held was a very skinny and weak kid, but he already had a strong will to protect others, along with a determined look in his eyes.
— I couldn't let them do that to you, it was your dog!
Little Held said that angrily, clearly furious with all his might about the situation.
— I could have just gotten my dog back later, idiot!
The child who had been "saved" by little Held said angrily as he walked away, obviously leaving the redhead behind and taking the dog. The boy, who would become a future military captain, ended up feeling very down about it, questioning if what he did was really right, thinking that while kicking a small pebble on the way home.
"Why did he act like that? Did I do something really rude?"
He thought that until he reached his house's door, where he heard shouting coming from upstairs where he lived with his parents. A man came out of his mother's bedroom, angrily descending the stairs.
— You cheap slut, learn to do your only job right, then come and want my hard-earned money!
That man was an old, fat, and very smelly man, very hairy and with crooked teeth. The horrible man bumped into the child and knocked him to the ground, then looked at Held's face and spat on him.
— Learn to watch where you're going, you son of a bitch!
The fat old man left the house and started walking down the street, while little redhead Held struggled to get up, still weak from previous attacks.
— Ouch… that guy was ruder than normal!
Held began climbing the stairs to his house, reaching his mother's room and seeing her with a bruise on her beautiful face, making the boy run towards her.
— Mom, what did that man do?
He hugged her tightly and tried to gently touch the hurt part of his mother's face, hoping to ease the pain she probably felt from the blow.
— I- I'm okay, son, don't worry about me…
That woman was a prostitute, just like the mother of his enemy in the present time was. When she noticed her beloved son was also hurt, she panicked and ran to get medicine to apply to his wounds.
— How did you get like this, Held? What happened?!
She tore her own dress and used the pieces of cloth to bandage her son's injuries, very worried about the little redhead.
— I fought with two boys who wanted to steal a friend's puppy, so I tried to protect his dog!
The boy's mother grew even more concerned since the boys in the rough neighborhood where they lived were quite dangerous and could even be gang members.
— And why did you do that?
The boy's mother asked, very upset that he got hurt. The boy responded with a smile.
— Because I want to protect everyone, without exception!
The boy's words made his mother sigh a knowing sigh, just looking at his face and telling him while still putting the bandages on his cheek.
— Then I want you to promise me one thing, do you think you can?
She said that while looking deep into her son's determined eyes, holding his hand tightly, almost squeezing it with all her strength.
— Promise what, mom?
The boy said that, genuinely unsure about this "promise" his mother wanted, feeling pain in his hand from her tight grip.
— I want you to promise that you will never, ever get hurt like this again. I don't want to see you hurt like this anymore!
The red-haired woman said with a very worried look about her only son, then she stopped squeezing his hand and even let it go completely. The boy stayed silent for a while, staring at his mother and thinking about her words, wondering what to say, until he finally found the answer.
— Of course, mom, I promise I'll never get hurt again. I also promise to always protect you. I'll never let you get hurt!
Held said that still full of determination, followed by a strong and loving hug to his mother, receiving the hug back and staying like that for several minutes. That was the boy's favorite moment of the day because in it, he felt very calm and safe. Even though he didn't come from a rich family or live far from that rough neighborhood, he was happy to have been born there.
"My mom… is the best mom in the whole world!"
Held thought that with a genuine smile on his face, the smile of an innocent and dreamy child. But that moment ended with a noise downstairs, seeming like someone bumping into some furniture and then throwing themselves onto their dirty couch.
— He finally came back from the bar…
Held's mother said that while going downstairs, where the boy's father was lying on the sofa, holding a bottle of a well-known beer from that neighborhood. The smell was pure alcohol mixed with typical bar food—horrible and made worse by the moldy couch smell he had thrown himself on, creating the scent of true trash from his body. The boy's mother got a little angry and her skin tone changed to a reddish shade of rage.
— Hey, you shouldn't just throw yourself on the sofa like that when you get back from that dump! Go take a shower at least—
Her words were cut off because the beer bottle was thrown at her, but since the man was drunk, he missed and hit the wall near her, spilling the rest of the beer on it.
— Shut up, bitch!
He shouted at her, clearly intoxicated and furious, seeming like a hopeless drunk trapped in a cursed routine. The woman was very scared, stepping back a bit on the stairs, staring at the man.
— I know how you get that money, you damn filthy bastard!
The drunk kept shouting with hatred at the woman, staggering there barely able to take a step. His wife just got even more irritated and snapped back.
— If you weren't such a stupid drunk and started working to bring money home, our family could be way better than this, you piece of shit!
Her words made the damn man even more angry, but instead of continuing the fight with the woman, he left that moldy house they lived in.
— Then go find some other sucker, because I'll only come back to kill you, bitch!
He left the house, cursing everything and everyone he saw along the street. Meanwhile, that same fat man from before was watching it all with a huge grin on his face.
— Heh, I think I can get that money back again.
The man said selfishly, not caring about the crying child inside the house or the shocked woman. He only cared about the damn money that slipped through his dirty, beer-scented fingers, mixed with the smell of old food on his filthy, hairy hands.