"Tired…If exhaustion could be engraved into every blade of grass in this forest, whispered by every leaf on these trees, and sung by every fish that swims these rivers… it still wouldn't amount to a fraction of what I feel.
But I have to live—Push through the pain… the suffering… the misery—for my sweet little boy. My precious… Yuri."
BOOM!The door slammed open.
In stumbled Henry—a man whose belly hung like a curse, wearing his usual alcohol and lipstick-stained tan shirt. His shorts were frayed and filthy, begging to be burned into oblivion.
"Lilly," mother to Yuri and unfortunate wife to the wretch before her, instinctively pulled her son behind her. A trembling shield. A fragile wall.
Lilly: "W-welcome back… how was work?"Her voice quivered, her lips barely forming the words as she fought to steady her trembling hands.
Henry: "Ahhh~ now that's more like it! Finally learned how to greet properly, huh?"He took a long gulp from his bottle, the smell of liquor thick in the air. Then his bleary eyes darted around the room—and froze.
Henry: "…you goddamn bitch…"
His face twisted. The veins in his neck pulsed like cords ready to snap.He lunged—his hand striking her so hard she crashed against the rotten floorboards.
Yuri: "MOMMY!"
Henry: "What right do you have—trying to hide my son from me!?"
The bottle shattered against the floor. Rage poured out of him like poison as he kicked and stomped at Lilly's frail body.
Yuri threw himself over his mother, crying, shielding her with his small frame. To Henry, that act of defiance was gasoline to his fire.
He tore his belt free—wrapped it around his fist—and brought it down again and again, across Yuri's tiny back. Each strike drew a scream, each scream tore another piece from Lilly's soul.
Lilly: "Please! Please stop! He's just a child! Yuri, baby, run—run!"
But neither listened.The boy couldn't move. The mother couldn't breathe.
Henry: "NONE OF YOU RESPECT ME! DON'T YOU DARE MAKE ME THE MONSTER!"
The monster was already made.
This was their life.A mother and her child, living beneath the weight of a man who gave nothing, yet demanded everything.
Lilly worked seven different jobs just to afford food, schooling, medicine.She had long stopped believing in miracles—but somehow still found a reason to wake up every morning. Her reason had a name.
Yuri.
Death would have been a relief, but for him… it wasn't an option.At least, not yet.
Three Years Later
Ring-ring-ring!
The bell echoed through the classroom.Yuri packed his torn books into his battered bag, waiting for the other kids to leave before him.
But before he could take a step, three shadows blocked his path.
Brian. Simon. Kara.Older, taller, and already smirking.
Yuri: "Excuse me, you're in the way."
Silence. Their eyes crawled over him like knives.
Simon:(grinning) "Hey there—Yuri, right? I'm Simon. Ninth grade. These are my pals, Kara and Brian."
Yuri: "Uh… hello. Nice to meet you all."
Kara: "Yeah, I bet it is."
Brian: "We'll cut to the chase, alright? We've been hearing all this talk about the 'poor little Yuri.'"
Simon: "But c'mon, let's be honest. We all know it's fake."
Yuri blinked. He didn't understand. Didn't want to. He just needed to get home before his mother started to worry.
Yuri: "I'm sorry, I don't think I understand what you—"
Simon: "Look, I'll make it simple. Stop acting poor. We know you're just begging for attention."
Kara: "Yeah. We've seen your type—trying to make everyone feel sorry for you."
Yuri: "Please, you've got it wrong. I really have to go—"
Brian: "SHUT UP! You don't leave until we say so, kapish?"
Kara: "We'll leave when you get it through your head. Stop pretending."
Yuri: "I'm sorry, but I need to—"
He tried to slip past them—
THUD!Brian's kick landed square in his chest, sending him crashing to the ground.
Brian: "Did we say you could leave!?"
Yuri gasped for air, clutching his ribs.
Kara: "Want me to rough him up a bit more?"
Simon: "…No. I think he gets it."
They walked away laughing.Yuri stayed there, drooling, breathless—but alive. He gathered his bag and forced himself up. Each step home felt heavier than the last.
By the time he reached his street, the sun was already sinking.He'd stopped more than once to catch his breath, to nurse the bruise burning in his chest.
But when his house came into view—his heart stopped.
Flashing lights. Police cars. Firetrucks. Reporters. Neighbors. All crowding around his home like vultures circling carrion.
A chill shot through him.He ran. Shoved through the crowd. Through the shouting officers. Through the blur of faces.
He burst inside—
—and immediately wished he hadn't.
Blood.Everywhere.The walls, the furniture, even the ceiling dripped red. His mother's red.
Pieces of her were nailed to the walls like trophies.And right in front of him… her head.
Carved across her forehead, in jagged letters:
"THE WAR IS COMING."
Yuri's body gave out.He fell to his knees, retching until bile and blood stained his shirt. His shaking hands pressed against the cold, sticky floor. His mother's blood.
He couldn't even scream.Not a sound came out.
Only silence—and the echo of everything he'd just lost.