A thin young man, no older than seventeen, stepped out of the convenience store. His clothes were plain and badly wrinkled, their colors faded by time and repeated wear. He stood around 1.70 meters tall, fresh from work, his body reeking of fish. Dark stains of dried blood marked his shorts.
Mario walked down the street with his supplies in hand. One plastic bag held four batteries, nutrition pills, rice portioned into three small bags, and ramen—everything measured to last three meals. In his other hand, a small gallon of water pulled at his wrist.
His eyes scanned his surroundings as he walked home.
The concrete was cracked in places but still relatively clean. Houses and apartment buildings lined the road—some newly painted, others long faded by sun and rain.
Streetlights flickered weakly before igniting, casting a soft, warm glow as day surrendered to dusk.
Passing beside him were people returning from work, hurrying to their own homes, while others lingered on the streets trying to earn a little extra.
Mario stopped at the alley when someone accidentally bumped into him.
The man apologized. "I'm sorry…"
Mario lowered his head slightly and said, "No, it's my fault."
Both accepted each other's apology.
Mario slipped into a narrow alley. The air cooled, carrying the damp smell of concrete and rust. At its end, small houses pressed together, fragile and cheap, yet enough for him to squeeze inside.
He entered the second house from the end. Dirt served as the floor, wood for walls, and a creaking bed of bamboo awaited him. A table and plastic chair leaned to one side. On the table sat a bowl, spoon, cup, a battery-powered lamp, and two books; empty gallons stood beneath it.
He lowered himself onto the bed. It groaned under his weight. Familiar fatigue settled across his shoulders.
Mario remained seated for a few minutes before—Growl.
He exhaled in exhaustion before standing up reluctantly and gathering a pack of ramen, a bag of rice, and the leftover charcoal, hanging the rest to keep rats at bay.
Outside, he arranged stones as a stand for the pot and washed the rice. He placed the pot on the stand and the charcoal beneath it before striking a match.
After the rice was done, he poured it into his only bowl and cooked the ramen. Once everything was ready, he ate quietly. Afterward, he took a green pill from the bottle and swallowed it with water.
He poured a small amount of water on the fire, extinguishing it.
He cleaned his bowl, spoon, and pot, placed them back on the table, and approached the wooden bed to grab some spare clothes.
Mario stepped out and headed toward the public bathroom in the distance.
Upon reaching it, he bought an unscented bar of soap from the soap vending machine at the side, costing a copper coin, before entering.
Inside were small bathroom stalls lined up. He knocked on each one before finding an empty stall. He put two copper coins in the slot beside the door to pay for the water.
Mario took off his worn clothes and hung them on the hook on the bathroom door, then washed his hair using the soap and noticed it had already reached his nape.
As he leaned forward to scoop water from the container, his gaze caught on the reflection below.
A black-haired youth with emerald eyes stared back from the surface—a face that might have been handsome, if neglect hadn't left freckles and pimples scattered across it.
After washing himself, he took the worn clothes hanging on the door and washed them.
When he was done, he put on his spare clothes and headed back home.
He hung the wet clothes on the clothesline outside.
Mario entered the house. It was dimly lit, and if not for the small beams of light seeping through the holes in the roof, it would be completely dark.
He took the four batteries from the plastic bag and walked over to the table, placing them inside the electric lamp and taking one of the two books from the table.
Mario sat on the bed holding the book and electric lamp in his hands before carefully leaning his back against the wall, making sure he wouldn't accidentally break it.
He then hung the lamp before beginning to read the book.
While he was reading, memories resurfaced in his mind.
He had been living this way for two years, having chosen to leave the orphanage immediately after turning sixteen—an age when he could find a job.
And because the director introduced him to a friend like he did for everyone else, Mario didn't need to search for a job himself.
For the past two years, he had saved money and helped the orphanage instead of living a better life.
Mario put down the book and stood up, placing it back before returning to his bed and turning off the light.
"Soon I'll turn eighteen and receive my own proficiency panel like everyone else," he muttered before carefully lying down.
Yawn.
He covered himself with the thin blanket before closing his eyes.
Slowly he fell asleep.
Time passed and midnight came.
A foreign chill appeared in his body as he unconsciously pulled the blanket tighter to shield against the cold.
However, the foreign chill moved and slowly spread. Mario woke with a start, thinking another small creature was crawling on his body.
He immediately turned on the electric lamp before looking around himself and his surroundings in wariness, his sleepiness gone.
Moments later the chill moved again, and that's when he noticed it was inside his body and not outside.
He exhaled in relief after realizing this and sat back down on the bed before muttering, "Right, it should be midnight already…"
After calming down, he closed his eyes and focused on the foreign chill inside him.
The chill was spinning in his chest area before it spread again to his head.
Mario felt uncomfortable at the cool sensation in his head, making him open his eyes, but fortunately it didn't stay there for long as it descended again.
It stopped at the center of his chest where it continued to spin.
After spinning for a while, it pushed deeper into his chest, but it seemed to encounter an obstacle.
But the chill didn't stop and rammed itself into the obstacle.
Bang.
When the obstacle was hit, Mario felt uncomfortable and immediately exhaled a cold breath.
But it didn't stop there, as the chill retreated before spinning rapidly again and then rammed the obstacle once more, forcing its way in.
Bang.
The uncomfortable feeling deepened after it rammed the obstacle again, making Mario tired, especially since his sleep had been incomplete.
It retreated before spinning even faster and rammed itself into the obstacle again.
Bang.
Crack.
And through that crack, the chill seemed to have successfully entered.
Mario thought he heard the faint sound of glass cracking, and something appeared in his vision.
It was a transparent box floating in front of him, but before he could pay it attention, an uncontrollable exhaustion enveloped him.
Bam.
He fell heavily onto the wooden bed as it creaked loudly from the strain. Fortunately, his head hit the pillow and not the hard surface of the bed.