The days passed like a living nightmare, but in reality, the child spent the entire month living under the same roof as his father.

  It wasn't that his grandmother no longer cared about him, she simply hoped that the little boy might bring some joy back into her son's heart.

  She had no idea what was truly happening inside that house, or the abuse her grandson was enduring.

  As for Haruki, he spent most of his days playing with his friends.

  Some of the parents occasionally noticed the bruises on his body and the pitiful state he was in, but they didn't know what was happening behind Nagisa's closed doors, and they chose not to interfere.

  At night, Haruki would hide within the four walls of his room, too afraid to step out… fearing his father's merciless blows.

  On the twelfth of November, Haruki returned home after hours of nonstop play with the neighborhood kids.

  Dust clung to his clothes, and in his hand he held one of his favorite toys: a slingshot he had built himself.

  He pushed the door open with his small hands, and the moment he crossed the threshold, he froze ,his father's shoes were there.

  A chill shot down his spine… His father wasn't supposed to be home.

  ***

  In Himari's home, the mother of the boy who regularly played with Haruki, Fuji , the atmosphere was warm and filled with the rich aroma of food.

  Just a few days earlier, she had given Haruki a small slip of paper with her phone number written on it, gently urging him not to hesitate to call her if anything happened at home, or if he ever felt hungry and had nothing to eat.

  Himari stood near the stove, softly humming as she prepared curry, its scent drifting through the house like a comforting embrace.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  Suddenly, her humming was interrupted by the sharp ring of her phone.

  She reached over to the kitchen counter and picked it up.

  Glancing at the screen, she saw a number she didn't recognize.

  Her brows furrowed in mild confusion, but curiosity led her to press the green button.

  She brought the phone to her ear, her voice gentle and motherly as she continued cooking with her other hand.

  "Hello?"

  The silence on the other end of the line was deafening, but it didn't last long.

  Soon, a quiet, stifled sob broke through.

  Himari raised an eyebrow in concern.

  She didn't recognize the caller, but from the sound of the sob, she could tell it was a child.

  She spoke again, gently, hoping for a response.

  "Hello? Who's speaking?"

  Finally, a shaky, broken voice came through the line.

  "I… i-it's H-Haruki…"

  Himari's expression softened the moment she recognized the little boy.

  A faint smile formed on her lips, and her eyes drifted back toward the food she had been cooking, though her voice carried a subtle undertone of worry as she replied.

  "Oh, hello, sweetheart… Why are you crying? Did something happen between you and Mr. Nagisa?"

  Her question had been instinctive-just as much as she feared the answer.

  The child began to cry, his breath hitching in shallow, broken sobs.

  He nodded, even though she couldn't see him, then forced himself to speak through trembling words.

  "M-My… d-dad…"

  Himari tilted her head, unanswered questions swirled through her mind, questions that only this child could answer.

  She set down the wooden spoon she had been using and turned off the stove beneath the pot, focusing her full attention on the call.

  Her voice grew a bit firmer, more serious, though she tried to keep it soft and gentle, careful not to add to the boy's distress.

  "Your father? What about him? What happened?"

  "H-he's not moving."

  Himari let out a short laugh, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere that had suddenly settled over them. She spoke in a playful tone, hoping to calm him.

  "Hey… don't worry, sweetheart. He's probably just sleeping."

  But the child inhaled sharply, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

  He sat curled in the corner of a dark room, hugging himself tightly, the phone pressed to his ear.

  Summoning every bit of strength he had left, he forced out the next words-words that shattered the illusion of calm.

  "He's… hanging from the ceiling."

  Himari gasped, a wave of shock slamming into her like a punch to the gut.

  It felt as if her heart had dropped into her stomach, then shot right back up to her throat.

  Panic overtook her.

  She understood instantly what Haruki meant.

  She spoke quickly, her voice trembling with urgency and fear.

  "Don't move, Haruki. I'm calling the police-I'll be there in just a few minutes!"

  Haruki gently set the phone down beside him, then turned his eyes upward, fearfully revealing the scene that had been haunting him since the moment he walked in.