I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Those were the words I lived with since I was a child. In the dark living room where no lights were ever turned on, the only sounds that echoed daily were the shouts of a man who was no longer a father, the sound of something being swung, and the sound of me trying to swallow my sobs.

Decades have passed since I escaped that house, but even now as an adult, my calves are still covered with the scars of that time that haven't faded. Just looking at them brings back horrific memories, so I can't even remember the last time I properly looked at my own legs.

Since then, I've always spent meaningless time in a secluded spot next to the convenience store. Kicking stones around, watching kids in school uniforms laughing from a distance, hiding deeper when a large truck approached, and occasionally playing with the stray cats that came by. That was all my life amounted to.

Today, the rain is falling steadily. Having no proper place to avoid the rain, I just sat still on the wet ground and let it hit me. It was cold.

I wonder how long I'd been out in the rain when a familiar face approached me. It was the part-timer here. A face I've now memorized. But that part-timer suddenly held out a new umbrella toward me. ...What is this?