Chapter 2
Far away from the demon realm, in a small village nestled among gentle hills, Yuta closed his worn storybook with careful hands. The candlelight flickered across his delicate features as he smiled down at his five-year-old cousin, who was finally starting to look sleepy. Even in the dim light, there was something ethereal about him—his fine white hair catching the glow like spun moonlight, his pale lashes framing eyes that seemed to hold all the gentleness in the world.
"And that's how the Snow Queen learned that a heart made of ice could still be melted by love," he finished softly.
Yuta had been living with his uncle's family for seven years now, ever since his parents died in the plague that had swept through their neighboring town. His uncle Darius had been kind enough to take him in, but his aunt Ursula… well, she made it abundantly clear every single day that he was nothing more than an unwanted burden to be endured.
The irony wasn't lost on him that even as a young man, his delicate beauty far surpassed that of his female cousins. His aunt's jealousy had only grown more venomous over the years, especially when visitors would comment on his striking appearance or when the village girls would blush and giggle whenever he passed by the market stalls.
Still, moments like this made the cruelty bearable. When he was telling stories, when he could see wonder and joy sparkling in a child's eyes, he almost felt like he belonged somewhere in this harsh world.
"Time for bed now, Kira," he said gently, reaching for the worn blankets.
"No!" Kira protested, suddenly wide awake again and bouncing on the small bed. "One more story, Brother Yuta! Please? Just one tiny one?"
Yuta sighed, but he was already reaching for another book from the small stack he kept hidden under his meager possessions. He could never say no to that pleading voice, those bright eyes that looked at him with such pure affection. "Just one more, and then you absolutely must sleep. Your mother will be furious if she finds you awake this late."
"I promise, I promise!" Kira bounced excitedly, clapping his small hands together.
"Once upon a time, there was a prince who was cursed to become a beast," Yuta began, his voice taking on that magical quality that could transport listeners to distant kingdoms. "But deep in his heart, beneath all the fur and fangs, he was still capable of love…"
Yuta had just reached the part where the prince was learning to show kindness to others when the door burst open with such force that it slammed against the wall. His aunt Ursula stood in the doorway like an avenging fury, her face twisted with rage that made Yuta's stomach sink with dread.
"Why is Kira still awake?" she demanded, her voice rising to a shrill pitch that made them both wince. Her eyes were wild with the kind of anger that promised pain, the kind Yuta had learned to recognize and fear.
"He just wanted one more story, Aunt. I was just—" Yuta began, his voice soft and placating, but the words were brutally cut off by the sharp crack of her palm against his cheek. The force of it snapped his head to the side, and before he could recover, the second slap followed immediately, catching him on the other cheek and making his ears ring.
"You worthless, selfish boy!" Ursula screamed, her voice echoing off the walls. Yuta could taste blood where his teeth had cut into his lip, metallic and warm. "Are you trying to ruin my son? Keep him awake all night so he'll be exhausted and sick tomorrow? Is that your plan, you spiteful creature?"
Her words hit harder than her hands. Each accusation was like a dagger, designed to cut deep and leave lasting wounds. Kira whimpered from the bed, his small body trembling as he watched his mother's fury unfold.
Yuta's heart shattered a little more with each of the child's frightened sounds. Kira shouldn't have to see this. No child should have to witness such cruelty, such hatred directed at someone they loved.
"I wasn't trying to hurt him, Aunt Ursula. I would never—" Yuta started, his voice barely above a whisper, but she cut him off again.
"Liar!" she snarled, advancing on him like a predator. "Everything you do is calculated to cause problems for this family. You eat our food, you take up space in our home, and now you're trying to make my son sick with your selfishness!"
She grabbed a handful of his silver hair and yanked hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. "Do you think I don't see what you're doing? Trying to make him love you more than his own mother? Filling his head with your stupid fairy tales so he'll think the world is all sunshine and happy endings?"
"Please, Aunt," Yuta gasped, his scalp burning where she gripped his hair. "I just wanted to make him happy. He asked for a story, and I—"
"And you what? Decided that what my son wants is more important than what I want?" She released his hair with a violent shove that sent him stumbling backward. "You're nothing in this house, boy. Nothing but a mouth to feed and a burden we never asked for."
Ursula's voice dropped to a venomous whisper that was somehow more terrifying than her screaming. "Your precious parents are dead and rotting in the ground. They're not coming back to save you. You have nothing and no one except what I choose to give you out of the goodness of my heart."
Yuta felt something inside him crumble, the way it did every time she reminded him of his complete dependence on her mercy.
"I wasn't trying to—" Yuta tried once more, but Ursula was already moving to comfort her son, her voice instantly transforming into something gentle and soothing.
"It's alright, sweetheart," she cooed to Kira, gathering the trembling child into her arms. "Mama's here. That bad boy won't hurt you anymore."
The casual way she painted him as the villain, the effortless switch from cruelty to tenderness, left Yuta feeling dizzy with confusion and pain. How could someone be so gentle with one child while being so vicious to another?
"Now look what you've done," Ursula said coldly, glaring at him over Kira's head. "You've frightened my son with your selfishness. He's crying because of you."
It wasn't true—Kira was crying because he'd witnessed his mother's violence—but Yuta had learned long ago that truth had no place in these confrontations. Ursula would twist reality until black became white, until his attempts at kindness became acts of malice.
"Get out," she commanded, her voice like ice. "Finish your chores and stay out of my sight. And if I catch you filling my son's head with more of your ridiculous stories, you'll regret it. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Aunt Ursula," Yuta whispered, bowing his head in submission.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" she snapped.
Yuta forced himself to meet her cold gaze, seeing nothing but contempt and disgust in her eyes. "I understand."
"Good. Now get out before I decide you need a more memorable lesson."
Yuta bowed his head and left the room, his cheek still stinging from the slaps and his heart aching from the cruelty of her words. In the hallway, he paused to wipe the blood from his split lip with the back of his hand, the taste of iron bitter on his tongue. Seven years of this treatment, and somehow it still hurt just as much as that first terrible day when he'd realized his new family saw him as nothing more than an unwelcome obligation.
He made his way through the dark house to the kitchen, where a large pile of herbs waited to be sorted and dried. Tomorrow was market day, and these medicinal plants would help pay for the family's food and supplies. His hands moved automatically through the familiar task, separating the useful from the damaged, the valuable from the worthless—much like how his aunt categorized the people in her life.
As he worked in the flickering candlelight, his mind wandered to the stories he loved so much, the tales that had been his refuge since childhood. In those magical worlds, kindness was always rewarded in the end. Love conquered hatred. The pure-hearted found happiness and peace, no matter how dark things seemed.
The good always triumphed over evil, and those who showed mercy were shown mercy in return.
If only real life worked that way.