"Who is this child?"
Koji stood at the doorway, rain dripping from his clothes, a small boy wrapped in an old, torn cloth in his arms.
"Why did you bring him home?" his wife asked, her voice filled with confusion.
Koji hesitated. His eyes fell to the boy's thin face, covered in dirt, yet strangely calm.
"I… I don't know," he said softly. "I found him behind the garbage house in the back street. He was alone."
The boy didn't cry.
He didn't struggle.
He simply stared at them with silent eyes.
Koji took a deep breath.
"We don't have a child," he continued. "Maybe… maybe we should adopt him."
His wife looked down at the boy. Her heart tightened.
"But what if his real parents come looking for him one day?"
Koji closed his eyes for a moment.
"We'll think about that later," he said. "For now… let's save him."
Slowly, he reached out and gently placed his hand on the boy's head.
"From today on," Koji said, his voice firm yet warm,
"your name is Nobu."
The boy didn't respond.
But somewhere deep inside, something changed.
And so, Nobu's new life began.
Eight Years Later
Time passed quietly.
Nobu grew into a bright, cheerful boy with a gentle heart.
Koji raised him as his own son—without regret, without doubt.
To Nobu, Koji was his real father.
One afternoon, Koji and eight-year-old Nobu walked through the busy market together.
People shouted.
Vendors argued.
The streets were alive.
Then Nobu stopped.
His eyes widened as he stared at a huge toy displayed in a shop on the main road.
"Dad!" Nobu shouted excitedly. "Look at that!"
Before Koji could answer—
Nobu ran.
A loud horn echoed through the street.
A truck rushed forward.
"NOBU!!"
Koji didn't think.
He ran.
He pushed Nobu away with everything he had.
The next moment—
BOOM.
The truck crashed into Koji.
Time stopped.
Nobu hit the ground, his body trembling.
"D-Dad…?"
Koji didn't move.
Blood slowly spread across the road.
Nobu crawled toward him, tears blurring his vision.
"Dad… please get up…"
But Koji never did.
Lost and Alone
The market was far from home.
Nobu had never walked these streets alone before.
He tried to find his way back, but every turn looked unfamiliar.
As the sky darkened, fear swallowed him whole.
Eventually, he wandered into a narrow, shadow-filled alley.
There, sitting on a broken wooden crate, was a small boy about six years old.
The boy looked up and smiled.
"Hey," he said casually. "You look lost."
Nobu wiped his tears with his sleeve.
"I… I can't find my home."
The boy jumped down from the crate.
"My name's Beru."
His smile softened when he saw Nobu's trembling hands.
"Then stay with me," Beru said. "At least for today."
One day turned into a week.
A week turned into a month.
And in that dark alley, two abandoned boys formed a bond—
A bond strong enough to survive blood, betrayal,
and a future neither of them could yet imagine.