In the heart of Maiko, a city that was thrumming with life and vibrant interactions, not every soul was touched by this joy.
Among them was a young man, barely eighteen, Kado.
His world was confined to the sterile walls of a hospital, where his mother lay frail and almost fading away.
As the cold and sour water fell down his cheeks, he found himself questioning the cruelty of his fate.
Kado had been forced to abandon his high school education, as the hefty medical bills for his mother's treatments had become an insurmountable force.
This enforced exit from academics wasn't the only change in his life; he had to tread murky paths to earn the money needed to keep his mother alive.
His life was a stark contrast to the thriving city outside, filled with loneliness and depression.
With no father, no siblings, and relatives who had turned their backs on them due to their poverty, Kado was alone in his struggle.
"This wretched world," he muttered as rage was kindling in his eyes.
His fists clenched as he gritted his teeth, the veins on his forehead began to pulsate with defiance. "This wretched world and its cruel hierarchies," he lamented.
The world had shown Kado its dark side, the corruption that ran deep in the veins of those who should've been their saviours, the doctors. He'd seen how money could twist hearts, making them cold and callous.
His dark hair fell over his green eyes, eyes that mirrored the fear and uncertainty of his future. The sweat trickling down his face jolted him back to reality.
"I'm sorry, but your payment didn't go through. Do you have another card, perhaps?" The nurse's voice intruded into his thoughts.
This was Skaira, a woman who'd shown kindness to his mother only when the bills were paid.
"No! This is the only card I have!" Frustration grew within him, a knot of irritation lodged in his throat as he gulped.
He met Skaira's gaze, "What happens to my mother if we can't pay?"
Her expression shifted from concern to cold professionalism, "Your mother's life will be in peril," her chilling reply didn't seem to be welcoming.
"Can't I do something? Anything! I can work here for free, clean, cook, whatever it takes! How much do you need to keep her alive?" Kado's voice broke through the sterile silence, desperation seemed to seep into each word.
"Regrettably, we don't employ people like you," Skaira responded as she gazed in his worn-out attire, her expression hardened.
His clothes was far from new, possibly passed down through multiple hands before reaching him.
His shoes were threadbare, revealing his toes to the world, and his clothes appeared as if they hadn't encountered a washing machine in ages.
"People like me?" Kado's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, his voice started to escalate. "People like me?! What on earth did 'people like me' ever do to you people?!"
Skaira simply shook her head, "Just a moment," she murmured, disappearing from the room.
Kado was left alone, his heart was pounding heavily in his chest, his anger simmered like a stew on a fire.
The injustice of it all gnawed at him, a constant reminder of the unfairness of his world.
He felt trapped, like a caged bird, yearning for freedom but denied the sky.
The cold, clinical way in which he was treated, like he was less than human, only fueled his anger and frustration.
Suddenly, the door creaked open again, and a mysterious man stepped into the room.
He had an air of calm authority about him, his kind smile was like a stark contrast to the dire circumstances. "Good day to you, young sir. It seems like I might be able to help you out here," he said, his voice soothed like a balm to Kado's raw nerves.
The man exuded a gentle aura, settling on the edge of his mother's bed.
As he doffed his dark hat, a long, dark red hair tumbled free, catching the muted light in the room.
Kado's hand still clutched his mother's, stole glances at the man's pristine leather jacket and his polished shoes, the contrast between their states of being too stark to ignore.
"Why are you perched on my mother's bed?" His voice cut through the silence.
"My apologies," the man moved off promptly, his tone carried a note of sincere regret.
The man seemed to be in his mid-thirties, his face was filled with warmth that was uncharacteristic in their bleak surroundings. "I'm here to assist the young and the impoverished, like yourself."
"Hhhm, like me? Is this some sort of societal mockery?" Kado's voice dripped with skepticism.
"Not in the least," the man replied with a steady and reassuring tone. "You see, I run an organization that tests individuals' capabilities through a game. If you emerge victoriously, we will grant you three wishes."
"Three wishes?" Kado echoed incredulously, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Is this some kind of fraud?"
"Certainly not," the man's voice remained calm, the confidence in his words couldn't be shaken by anyone in this silenced room.
Kado glanced at his mother, her body was still unmoving, almost like a shadow of her former self. "Can you restore my mother's health?" He queried.
"I can, provided you win the game," the man replied confidently.
"But how can you do that? You don't appear to be a doctor," Kado retorted, his skepticism was seemed to grow more.
The man, replaced his hat with a flourish, flashed a crooked smile, "Let's just say that I possess substantial wealth."
His eyes twinkled in amusement, "So, what are you willing to sacrifice for your mother's health?"