-: ✧ :-゜・．

-: ✧ :-゜・．

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The house was quiet, save for the agonizing screams that echoed through the narrow halls, cutting through the stillness like a knife. Little Aera stood in the shadows near the door, her tiny body trembling with fear as she listened to her mother's cries, sharp and guttural, filling the air with a pain that even at her tender age, Aera could feel deep in her bones.

She didn't know why her father hurt her mother. She didn't understand the twisted, violent relationship they shared. All she knew was that her father, Beom-seok, was a monster-a monster she was terrified of, yet too young to fully comprehend.

Every night, it was the same. The screams, the thuds, the muffled sounds of pain, and then the heavy silence afterward, broken only by Beom-seok's footsteps as he stormed out, leaving destruction in his wake. Aera clutched her hands together, her small fingers trembling, the bandage wrapped around her palm barely holding on.

The door to the bedroom creaked open, and Beom-seok emerged, his face cold, his expression indifferent as he buckled his belt, not even sparing a glance in Aera's direction. His tall figure loomed over her as he passed, the smell of smoke and sweat clinging to him, suffocating the air around them.

Aera's breath hitched as she shrunk back, her wide eyes following him until he disappeared down the hallway. Her heart pounded in her tiny chest, but she didn't dare make a sound. Even though he never hit her, the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her, always left her feeling like she was suffocating, like her existence was nothing more than a burden.

When the sound of his footsteps finally faded, Aera hesitated before slowly stepping into the room. It was dimly lit, the curtains drawn tight, casting long, eerie shadows across the floor. The smell of blood and sweat hung heavy in the air, making her stomach churn. Her eyes landed on the figure lying on the bed-her mother, Hana.

Hana was naked under the sheets, her body marred with bruises, cuts, and deep red marks. Her long hair clung to her face, damp with sweat and tears, but her expression was cold, emotionless. She lay still, staring at the ceiling as if she were already dead, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

"Mama?" Aera's voice was small, barely a whisper as she inched closer to the bed, her heart aching at the sight of her mother's battered body. She clutched her bandaged hand and stepped closer, her little feet hesitant on the cold floor. "Mama, are you... okay?"

Hana's gaze flickered to her daughter, her eyes narrowing into slits. There was no warmth in her gaze, only resentment and cold, unrelenting bitterness. Aera took a cautious step forward, her innocent eyes filled with concern. She climbed up onto the bed slowly, her small hands reaching out toward her mother's forehead, where a thin line of blood trickled down.

"I'll help you," Aera said softly, her voice trembling but filled with determination. She carefully pressed her bandaged hand against her mother's bleeding wound, her fingers shaking as she tried to comfort her the only way she knew how.

But Hana's reaction was swift and cruel. She slapped Aera's hand away with force, sending the little girl tumbling off the bed onto the cold, hard floor. Aera landed with a thud, her small body crumpling in pain, tears welling up in her eyes as she stared up at her mother in shock.

Hana's lips curled in disgust as she spat, "Don't touch me. Everything... everything is because of you!"

Aera's lip quivered as she pushed herself up, her small hands trembling. "Mama, I was just trying to-"

"Trying?" Hana's voice was sharp, dripping with venom. "If you weren't born, if you had been a boy, everything would've been different! Your father wouldn't hate me, and I... I wouldn't be suffering like this!"

Aera's heart shattered at her mother's words, her chest aching with a pain she was too young to understand. She didn't know why her mother hated her so much. All she ever wanted was to be loved, to be held, to feel safe. But no matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried, Hana's hatred for her never faded.

"I'm sorry," Aera whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks as she crawled backward, her tiny body trembling with fear. "I didn't mean to... I didn't mean to make you angry, Mama."

Hana's eyes narrowed, and she let out a bitter laugh, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Sorry? Sorry won't change anything! You ruined my life the moment you were born! If you had been a son, maybe Beom-seok would love me. Maybe he wouldn't beat me!"

Aera's chest tightened as her mother's words cut deep into her innocent heart. She had no idea that her very existence had caused so much pain. She looked down at her bandaged hand, remembering how her father had angrily thrown a glass at her just the other day, not because of her, but because she existed in a world he didn't want her in.

"Get out of my sight!" Hana hissed, her voice sharp and filled with contempt. "I don't want to look at you."

Aera bit her lip to stop herself from crying out, her tiny body shaking as she stood up, stumbling toward the door. She cast one last glance at her mother, but Hana had already turned her back, her figure small and fragile under the sheets, yet as cold and distant as ever.

Without another word, Aera slipped out of the room, her feet moving as if on autopilot. She wandered through the halls, the dim light casting long, ominous shadows on the walls. She felt numb, the weight of her mother's words pressing down on her small shoulders like a crushing burden.

Aera wandered into the small storage room where she often hid, curling up into a ball in the corner. She wrapped her arms around her knees, the tears she had been holding back finally spilling over. But even as she cried, she kept her sobs quiet, afraid that if she was too loud, her father would hear. And she knew all too well what happened when her father got angry.

Her tiny body shook with each quiet sob, her heart heavy with the weight of a world that was far too cruel for a little girl like her. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, staring down at the bandage covering the wound her father had indirectly caused.

Aera pressed her hands to her chest, trying to stop the ache, but it wouldn't go away. It never did. Not when her mother hated her, not when her father terrorized her, and not when the world around her felt like it was falling apart.

"I'll be good, Mama," Aera whispered to herself, her voice barely audible as her tears continued to fall. "I promise... I'll be good."

But deep down, even in her young heart, Aera knew that no matter how good she tried to be, it would never be enough. Not for her mother. Not for her father.

And not for herself.

___________

The morning sun bathed the large, manicured lawn in soft golden light. Four-year-old Aera sat cross-legged on the grass, her small hands gripping a dull pencil as she focused intently on the sketchbook resting on her lap. The pink flower in front of her was in full bloom, its delicate petals catching her attention in a way that nothing else did. It was beautiful-so much so that she couldn't look away, not even for a second.

She had found the sketchbook buried in the old storeroom of the mansion, covered in dust, just another forgotten object. Her parents never gave her anything-not clothes, not toys. Everything she owned was either discarded junk or old items given to her out of pity by the maids. But this sketchbook, despite its ragged pages, felt like a treasure to her, a small escape from the suffocating life she led.

Her tiny fingers carefully drew the outline of the flower, her hand shaking slightly as she tried not to ruin it. Once she finished the petals, she smiled a little and began to color them in with the baby pink crayon she'd found in a drawer. The color wasn't exactly right, but she did her best to match it to the real flower in front of her. She wanted it to look perfect.

Just as she was filling in the leaves with dark green, a shadow loomed over her. Before she could even react, the sketchbook was ripped out of her hands. The crayons fell to the ground, scattering across the lawn. Little Aera looked up, her heart pounding in her chest. Her father stood towering above her, his face twisted in anger.

"What do you think you're doing?" Beom-seok barked, his voice harsh, filled with disdain. He held the sketchbook as if it were trash, glaring down at his daughter. "Drawing? Is this what you're wasting your time on?"

Aera's mouth opened, but no words came out. She didn't understand. Her eyes were wide, filled with confusion and fear. What had she done wrong? She thought the flower was pretty, that maybe-just maybe-if she showed her mother, Hana might smile, or her father might say something kind. But instead, she was met with anger.

"Stop staring at me like a dumb fuck," Beom-seok snapped, his voice laced with cruelty. "You're worthless! You should be studying, not wasting time on this nonsense. You want to grow up to be a nobody, don't you?"

Aera blinked, her lower lip trembling. She didn't know what "worthless" meant, but the way he said it made her heart sink. She glanced at the crayons scattered on the grass, then back at her father, her small body frozen in fear.

"I'm sorry..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Sorry?" Beom-seok scoffed. "Sorry won't make you better. You need to toughen up, stop acting like a little girl. Woman up!"

Aera didn't even know what that meant. Her innocent mind couldn't comprehend why her father always spoke to her in such harsh words. She was only four years old. How could she "woman up" when she didn't even understand the weight of those words?

"Keep your eyes on the ground when I talk to you," Beom-seok ordered, his voice booming. "I want respect, and I won't tolerate disobedience from you, do you understand?"

Aera's head lowered immediately, her eyes trained on the grass beneath her feet. She nodded, too afraid to speak.

"Get up," he commanded, his voice cold. "And stop wasting your time with this junk."

Without another glance at her, Beom-seok stormed off, leaving Aera standing in the lawn, trembling. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away, swallowing the sobs that were threatening to spill out. She didn't want to cry-not here, not where her father might see her again.

Her gaze fell on the crumpled sketchbook lying on the ground, the delicate flower she had drawn now smeared with dirt. Slowly, she bent down, picking it up with shaking hands, her tiny fingers gripping the edges as tears finally started to fall. She didn't even try to stop them this time.

Without thinking, Aera ran.

She ran through the large gates of the mansion, her tiny feet pounding against the pavement as she fled down the street, tears streaming down her cheeks. People turned to stare as she passed by, but she didn't care. She couldn't stop. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her breath coming in short, painful gasps.

She kept running until her legs couldn't carry her anymore. Then, suddenly, she collided with something-someone.

Aera fell back onto the sidewalk, the impact knocking the breath out of her. She looked up through blurry eyes to see a woman standing in front of her, concern etched across her elegant face.

"Oh, my dear, are you alright?" the woman asked, her voice soft and gentle as she bent down to Aera's level. She reached out to touch the little girl's shoulder, her eyes filled with worry.

Aera didn't respond. She just sobbed harder, her small body shaking with the force of her tears. The woman's gaze softened even more as she gently pulled Aera into her arms, wrapping the little girl in a warm embrace.

"There, there, it's okay," the woman murmured, her voice soothing as she held Aera close. "It's alright, sweetheart. You're safe."

Aera clung to the woman, her tiny fists gripping the fabric of her dress as she buried her face in the stranger's shoulder. The warmth of the embrace was foreign to her, but it felt... comforting. It was the first time in her short life that anyone had held her like this, with genuine care.

After a few moments, the woman gently pulled back, her hands resting on Aera's small shoulders. She wiped the tears from the little girl's cheeks with a soft smile.

"Are you alright now?" she asked softly, her tone filled with affection.

Aera shook her head, sniffling as she wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "No..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm not..."

The woman's heart broke at the sight of the little girl's tears. She brushed a strand of hair out of Aera's face and smiled warmly. "How about we go get some ice cream, hmm? That always makes me feel better when I'm sad."

Aera hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. The woman took her hand, leading her down the street to a small ice cream shop. Once inside, she ordered a cone of strawberry ice cream for Aera, watching as the little girl's face brightened at the sight of the sweet treat.

"Thank you," Aera whispered shyly as she licked the ice cream, her tears finally drying up.

"You're very welcome," the woman replied with a soft smile. She watched Aera carefully for a moment before asking, "Why were you crying, sweetheart?"

Aera looked down at her ice cream, her small hands trembling slightly as she thought about her father's harsh words. "My father... he's mad at me," she whispered, her voice filled with sadness. "He always yells... and says mean things..."

The woman's eyes softened with sympathy. She reached out, gently placing a hand on Aera's cheek. "I'm sorry you have to go through that, darling," she said softly. "No one should make you feel that way."

Aera stared at the woman, her heart feeling lighter for the first time in what felt like forever. She felt safe with her. She didn't know why, but there was something about the woman's warmth that made her feel like she wasn't so alone.

"What's your name?" the woman asked gently.

"Aera," the little girl replied softly, looking up at her with wide, innocent eyes.

The woman smiled at her, though a flicker of sadness passed through her eyes at the name. "Aera is a beautiful name, but do you like it?"

Aera shook her head, her expression turning sad again. "I... I don't like it," she confessed quietly. "I want a new name."

The woman chuckled softly, her heart melting at the little girl's honesty. "A new name, huh?" she said thoughtfully. "Well, how about I give you one? A special name, just for you."

Aera's eyes lit up at the idea. "Really?" she asked, her voice filled with excitement.

"Of course," the woman replied with a smile. She thought for a moment before her eyes sparkled with an idea. "How about... Y/N?"

"Y/N?" Aera-now Y/N-repeated, her small face scrunching up in concentration as she tried to pronounce it correctly.

The woman laughed softly at her attempt, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Yes, Y/N. It's a strong, beautiful name. Just like you."

Y/N beamed up at her, the weight of her old name fading away, replaced by the warmth of this new identity. For the first time in her short life, she felt like maybe-just maybe-she could be someone special.

"I love it," Y/N said shyly, her cheeks flushing with happiness. "Thank you."

The woman smiled back at her, her heart swelling with affection. "You're very welcome, Y/N."

" What's your name? " Aera asked as the woman smiled and said.

" Trishula. "

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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