Copyright ? 2025 Crimson Bean
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
First Edition: 03/2025
Cover Art by Crimson Bean
Written by Crimson Bean
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Chapter 2 - The Silent Arrival
The wind outside was eerily still. The night sky stretched endlessly above the village, yet something felt… off.
Inside a dimly lit room, the air was thick with tension. The scent of burning candles mixed with the sweat of the struggling woman on the bed.
Emilia Arakami’s breaths came in ragged gasps, her fingers digging into the bedsheets as another wave of pain surged through her body.
“Breathe, Emilia! You have to stay strong!” one of the midwives urged, dabbing the sweat from her forehead.
She barely heard them. The pain wasn’t normal—it was something far worse. It felt like fire was burning inside her veins, as if something far beyond human was forcing its way into existence.
Her vision blurred. Her body trembled.
“I can’t—” she gasped, her voice weak.
Another sharp pain shot through her, and she let out a strangled cry.
The midwife beside her gripped her hand. “You can! Just one more push, Emilia. You have to fight!”
Her body screamed in protest, but she clenched her teeth and forced herself forward. The room felt like it was shaking—whether from the pain or something else entirely, she didn’t know.
And then—it happened.
A final, excruciating wave of agony tore through her, and then—silence.
No cries.
No gasps of relief.
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Only silence.
One of the midwives hesitated before picking up the newborn. Her face immediately went pale. The child wasn’t crying.
Sousuke took a slow step forward. “What’s wrong?”
The midwives didn’t answer. One of them anxiously checked the baby, pressing her ear against his tiny chest. “H-He's breathing… but…”
“…Why isn’t he crying?” another midwife whispered.
A newborn should cry. That was the first sign of life. But this child?
He just lay there—silent.
His eyes were open. Dark. Watching.
It was unsettling.
Sousuke finally reached the bed, his eyes locked onto the unmoving child. He felt a strange chill crawl up his spine.
“…Give him to me.”
The midwife hesitated, but she obeyed, gently placing the baby into his arms.
The moment Sousuke held him, his breath hitched.
The air… felt heavier.
His son’s tiny body was warm, yet there was something unnatural about it.
The baby stared at him—not with confusion, not with innocence… but with something deeper. Something a newborn shouldn’t have.
Sousuke swallowed hard. “This… this isn’t normal.”
Then, a soft, weak whisper reached his ears.
“Sousuke…”
His head snapped back to Emilia.
She was fading. Her body looked lifeless, her breaths shallow. She barely had the strength to keep her eyes open.
He rushed to her side, gripping her cold hand. “Emilia, hold on. Just hold on.”
She smiled weakly. “He’s… special.”
“Don’t say that. Save your strength.”
Her fingers barely squeezed his. “…Take care of him.”
A sharp pain struck Sousuke’s heart. “Stop talking like that.”
She looked at the child one last time—her expression soft, yet filled with sorrow.
Then, her hand slipped from his grip.
And she was gone.
The room felt colder.
The midwives lowered their heads.
Sousuke didn’t move.
He just stared at his wife’s still body.
A deep, suffocating silence swallowed the room.
His fingers clenched around the baby.
Then, finally, he whispered, “What… are you?”
The child didn’t answer. He just watched.
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-Abandoned by Fate-
The river flowed silently under the moonlit sky, its gentle currents carrying with it something far heavier than water—something wrapped in cloth, drifting aimlessly. A newborn child, his tiny body trembling against the cold night air.
On the riverbank stood a man, his fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his skin. Sousuke Fuuma stared at the child he had just let go, his heart pounding in his chest like a war drum.
His son.
His cursed son.
The whispers of the villagers still echoed in his mind.
"He’s not normal… He brought death upon her the moment he was born."
"That child is an omen."
"Sousuke, you must get rid of him… before it’s too late."
He had tried to resist. He had tried to hold onto what little love remained in him. But the moment he looked into his son’s eyes—eyes that held an eerie, unnatural presence—he felt it.
Something inside him twisted.
A sensation that clawed at his soul. A presence so overwhelming that it suffocated him.
"What… are you?"
Sousuke had no answer.
He had no strength left.
His wife, Emilia, was gone. Taken from him in the very moment this child entered the world. And now, he was expected to raise the very thing that had stolen her from him?
A bitter laugh escaped his lips.
He took one last look at the bundle floating away before turning on his heel. His hands trembled as he stepped away from the riverbank, his chest heaving.
"I don’t have a son."
And with those words, Sousuke Fuuma abandoned his child to fate.
—
The river carried the boy further into the depths of the forest, where the towering trees whispered in the wind. Hours passed. The night deepened. And yet, the baby did not sink, nor did the currents pull him under.
Fate had other plans.
A soft rustling came from the trees. A lone woman, wrapped in a worn-out cloak, trudged through the wilderness with weary steps. Her face, lined with years of hardship, twisted into confusion as she heard it—
A faint cry.
A baby’s cry.
Her tired eyes widened as she hurried to the river’s edge. And there, beneath the pale glow of the moon, she saw him.
A child.
Alone.
Shivering.
The woman’s breath caught in her throat.
"Who… left you here?"
She reached into the freezing water, pulling the infant into her arms. His tiny fingers curled around the fabric of her cloak, his cries growing softer.
She held him close, feeling the warmth of his fragile body against hers. A warmth that felt… unnatural.
It wasn’t just warmth.
It was power.
Her grip tightened. She looked around, as if expecting someone—anyone—to come claim him. But the night remained silent.
The child had no one.
Just like her.
A decision settled in her heart.
She would take him.
She would raise him.
"You are not unwanted, little one."
She lifted him closer, shielding him from the cold.
From this day forward, she would be his mother.
And his name…
"Arakami… Soutaro."
And she would protect him… no matter what he was.
With one last glance at the river that had carried him here, the woman turned away, holding the baby close to her chest.
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