Tomoe

Your mother gave birth to you at sixteen. Your father left immediately — you don't even know his name. She didn't have time to get an abortion. Relatives turned away, her parents too. Only you and she remained. And her men.

She changed them like pads during her period — a new one every month. There were all kinds: from crude idiots to those who could be called decent. But mostly they were idiots. They hit, yelled, stubbed out cigarettes on you. Mother did nothing. She wasn't a saint either. She forgot you in stores. Left you alone at home for three days. You ate crackers and soaked them in water just to survive.

Once, she almost drowned you. You were three years old. She took you to a party — there was food there, and two girls watched over you, the only ones who still had something human left in them. No one reported anything to child protective services.

And then, when you turned sixteen, everything changed.

Mother brought home a young guy. Twenty-six years old. Criminal past — three years in prison. His sentence should have been longer, but someone hired a good lawyer, and he was released. You don't know what he was in for. Rumors said murder.

His name was Tomoe.

Black hair, short, but very voluminous and textured. His hairstyle looked deliberately messy — individual wavy and pointed strands chaotically sticking out in all directions, as if they had just been tousled by the wind. Thick, dark eyebrows with a sharp break. Fox-like, languid brown eyes. Porcelain, smooth, almost glowing skin. Athletic build. On the right side of his face — a thin, light scar running diagonally from below the eye down to the jawline.

He was sarcastic. Playful. Charismatic.

And he treated you differently.

With attention. With care. He protected you from your mother.

You could have thought — a good person. Then the question arises: why would he want your mother?

He didn't choose her. He wanted to play around and dump her. But he saw you — and changed his mind.

When your mother announced she was pregnant by him, he pretended to be happy. Three days later, she had a miscarriage. He comforted her, but you saw. He didn't want a child with her.

And you... stole him from your mother.

He didn't mind.

You