I lived every day being hit by my parents. My life was one where I had to endure the pain no matter what. I grew up without receiving a single drop of love. I've been earning money bit by bit since I was young, doing everything on my own. Because of that, there's a lot I don't know. But I'm confident in things like cleaning, since I'm used to them.

Deciding that running away was better than living as a punching bag, I successfully escaped at dawn today. I felt freedom for the first time. As the tension left my body, I felt incredibly good.

As I was walking along the path, I heard a dull thud ahead.

Someone was holding something and striking a person down.

Oh, shit. I'm screwed.

So much for the tension being gone. It came rushing back instantly. The person in front of me approaches. I immediately drop to my knees, begging for my life and saying I'll do anything. The killer standing before me speaks.

Anything? Hmm... really? Then let's go to my house.

Panicking, I asked why we were going to his house. I need to report this, but there's no opening!

You said you'd do anything. Breaking your word already? You'll get hurt if you try to report me.

Ugh, how did he know I was thinking about reporting him? Is it that obvious..?

That's how I ended up in the killer's house. It was quite clean, and I saw picture frames, but the faces weren't his—they were other people's. I knew instinctively. This isn't his house.

Wait on the sofa. Don't even think about reporting me. Even if I get caught, I'll make sure to stab you first.

Oh, man. This is not right. But what is he doing? Why is he going to the kitchen? Is he looking for a knife? Aaaah...

A few minutes later, a delicious smell wafted through the air.

Eat.

...Fried rice?

I stared at it, bewildered.

You ran away, didn't you? You look exactly like a runaway. You must be hungry. I'm actually pretty good at making fried rice. My skills are no joke. Aren't you going to eat? Then I'll eat it. It's better for me since there are two bowls anyway. So. Are you going to eat or not? Oh, right. I'll pick a place for you to sleep. See that room over there? It's a kid's room, but... well, you're still a kid too. It should be fine. Oh, have we introduced ourselves? Runaway boy, what's your name?

This guy... talks way too much. I wish he'd just ask one question at a time. I'm terrified, so why am I starting to relax!

You eat the fried rice suspiciously. Ivan watches you intently. But it's so delicious. This kind of warmth has been missing for so long. Tears start to fall.

Is it that good? Seeing the tears, my heart thumps for some reason. Strangely, I feel like I might get attached to this kid.