As the colossal figure was flung away from the college grounds, crashing into the distance, Renchy lay unconscious on the ground. Ray swiftly approached, concern etched across his features. He extended a hand to check Renchy's pulse, but as their hands made contact, a surge of dark aura emanated from Renchy's body. To Ray's surprise, his own aura responded, undergoing a remarkable transformation. It now shimmered with a unique blend of gold and blue, a fusion of energies that seemed to defy explanation.
In an instant, Ray's consciousness was transported into a surreal realm—the landscape of Renchy's memories. He found himself immersed in a montage of vivid experiences, a firsthand journey through Renchy's past. Emotions surged through him, and he felt the weight of Renchy's life, struggles, and the motivations that had shaped his path.
Within the tapestry of Renchy's memories, Ray found himself transported to a scene of a sunlit playground. Laughter and joy resonated through the air as children played games and ran freely. Amidst the youthful exuberance, a small boy with dark hair stood apart, engrossed in his own world.
Ray's heart sank as he recognized the child—the boy was none other than a young Renchy. His vulnerability was stark as he was suddenly surrounded by a group of older children, their faces twisted in cruelty. The bullies taunted and jeered at him, mocking his lack of spirit and his family's circumstances.
With each cruel word and blow, the pain etched across the young Renchy's face was all too real. The memories became a visceral experience for Ray, who could feel the stinging humiliation and the weight of every punch. The boy's attempts to defend himself were futile, and soon he was left alone, his eyes brimming with tears.
The scene shifted, and Ray found himself within the confines of a modest home. Harsh voices cut through the air, and the confrontation between a man and a woman unfolded before his eyes. Their words were like daggers, revealing a painful truth—the boy's parents were at odds about his future.
Man (Renchy's Father): (Voice strained) I've had enough of this, Maria. We can't keep living like this, burdened by a child who can't even manifest a spirit. It's holding us back.
Maria (Renchy's Mother): (Voice resolute) He's our son, Robert. He deserves a chance, just like any other child. We can't turn our backs on him, especially now.
Robert's eyes narrowed as he clenched his fists, the anger in his gaze directed at the young boy who stood at the doorway, wide-eyed and frightened.
Robert: (Voice raised) Maria, you don't understand. We're barely making ends meet as it is. Taking care of him—it's draining our resources, our energy. We're stuck because of him!
Maria: (Voice unwavering) And what would you have me do, Robert? Abandon him? Send him away?
Robert's frustration intensified, his hands balling into fists as he paced back and forth across the room.
Robert: (Voice exasperated) I don't know, Maria! Maybe... maybe it's for the best. He'll never amount to anything, not without a spirit. We can't sacrifice everything for him.
Tears welled up in Maria's eyes, but her resolve remained unbroken.
Maria: (Voice choked) Robert, he's our flesh and blood. I can't turn my back on him, not when he needs us the most. We made a commitment as parents—to love, protect, and support him, no matter what.
Robert's frustration clashed with Maria's determination, their words echoing in the confined space like a battle of wills.
Robert: (Voice anguished) Maria, you don't understand the pressure, the shame. People look down on us because of him. Our lives are constrained because of his very existence.
Maria: (Voice firm) And I won't let that define us. I won't let fear and societal judgment dictate how we treat our own son. We'll find a way, Robert. We'll find a way to help him discover his worth, with or without a spirit.
As the door swung open, the boy's tear-streaked face came into view. His eyes widened at the sight before him—his parents engaged in a heated argument. The turmoil around him was palpable as the boy's father delivered harsh words, a declaration of his perceived worthlessness.
The boy's mother stood firm, her voice trembling as she made her decision. She refused to abandon her child, her grip on his hand resolute. With a determination that burned brighter than ever, she led him away from the turmoil, casting aside the negativity that had surrounded them.
Renchy's memories continued to unfold, revealing the moments that shaped his resilience and his unwavering spirit. As Ray observed from the sidelines, he found himself immersed in the poignant scenes of Renchy's past.
The memory transitioned to a bustling public area, where Renchy sat alone, his gaze fixed on the entrance as he anxiously awaited his mother's return. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the surroundings. Renchy's stomach rumbled audibly, a stark reminder of his hunger.
Suddenly, a towering figure cast a shadow over him. A large man, with a weathered face and a kind demeanor, stood before Renchy. His voice was gentle as he addressed the young boy.
Man: (Kindly) Hey there, young one. What brings you here all by yourself? Where are your parents?
Renchy looked up, his eyes wide and teary, as he responded, his voice quivering.
Renchy: (Softly) I'm waiting for my mom. She said she'd bring me something to eat and told me to wait here.
The man's expression softened as he crouched down to Renchy's level, his eyes filled with empathy.
Man: (Compassionately) Well, it sounds like you're pretty hungry. How about I buy you something to eat while you wait for your mom? Maybe you can even bring her something back.
Renchy's gaze remained fixed on the entrance, his heart torn between hunger and hope.
Renchy: (Hesitant) No, thank you. I promised to wait for my mom. She'll be back soon.
The man smiled warmly, his hand resting on Renchy's shoulder.
Man: (Kindly) That's very noble of you. Waiting for your mom is a good thing. How about this—I'll keep you company while you wait? We can talk and pass the time together.
Renchy looked up at the man, his eyes searching for any sign of deceit. But what he found was a genuine kindness that reassured him.
Renchy: (Softly) Okay, mister. But I really have to wait for my mom.
The man's smile remained, and he settled down beside Renchy.
Man: (Assuringly) Don't worry, young one. I'll be right here with you. We'll wait together.
As the hours passed, the man engaged Renchy in conversation, sharing stories and anecdotes that filled the time with laughter and warmth. He listened intently as Renchy spoke about his dreams, his challenges, and his unwavering love for his mother.
Eventually, the sun began to set, casting a warm and gentle glow over the scene. Renchy's mother had not returned, and a sense of concern tugged at Renchy's heart.
Renchy: (Voice tinged with worry) She's taking a long time. I'm starting to get worried.
The man's hand rested on Renchy's shoulder, his voice soothing.
Man: (Comforting) Sometimes things don't go as planned, young one. But I'm sure your mom will come back to you. And until she does, I'll be right here with you.
Renchy's gaze shifted to the man, a mix of gratitude and trust in his eyes.
Renchy: (Grateful) Thank you, mister. You're really kind.
The man smiled, his eyes reflecting the genuine care he felt for Renchy.
Man: (Kindly) It's no trouble at all. Sometimes, being there for someone is all that matters.
And so, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Renchy and the man continued to wait together, The Night started where his mother was returned and the man says
The night gradually descended, casting a tranquil darkness over the scene. Renchy and James sat together, their figures illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights. As the minutes ticked by, Renchy's patience was met with a mixture of anxiety and hope. The absence of his mother weighed heavily on his young heart.
The man watched Renchy closely, his expression a blend of empathy and concern. He placed a comforting hand on Renchy's shoulder, his voice gentle and reassuring.
Man: (Softly) Renchy, it's getting late. You should eat something. We'll come back here tomorrow and find your mom. My name is James Anderson, by the way. Why don't you come with me to our penthouse? You can stay the night there, and my wife and daughter will welcome you warmly.
Renchy's tired eyes lifted to meet James's gaze, a mixture of uncertainty and gratitude in his expression. He hesitated for a moment, considering James's offer.
Renchy: (Softly) James... I appreciate your kindness. But what if my mom comes back and I'm not here?
James's smile remained warm, his voice steady and reassuring.
James: (Kindly) I understand your concern, Renchy. But staying with us tonight doesn't mean giving up on finding your mom. We can leave a note here, just in case she comes back. And tomorrow, we'll search for her together. What do you say?
Renchy's heart wavered between the fear of losing his mother and the comfort of James's offer. He finally nodded, a mixture of emotions playing across his features.
Renchy: (Resigned) Okay, James. Thank you. I'll stay with you tonight.
James's reassuring smile widened, his kindness unwavering.
James: (Kindly) That's the spirit, Renchy. Come on, let's head to our penthouse. You'll meet my wife and daughter, and I promise they'll make you feel right at home.
Together, they rose from their spot, leaving a note for Renchy's mother in case she returned. As they walked through the night, Renchy's steps were heavy with both uncertainty and newfound trust. The memory captured a moment of vulnerability, where the kindness of a stranger illuminated a path of hope for Renchy.
As they arrived at James's house, the warmth of his wife's welcome enveloped them. Agatha's presence radiated kindness and hospitality, instantly putting Renchy at ease. James turned to Renchy, concern etched in his features.
James: (With care) Agatha, this is Renchy. He's had a rough day. Renchy, meet my wonderful wife, Agatha Anderson.
Agatha stepped closer to Renchy, her embrace a comforting gesture that spoke of understanding and compassion. Renchy felt the weight of his worries ease in her arms, replaced by a sense of safety and acceptance.
Agatha: (Warmly) Hello, dear. You're welcome here. This is your home now, for as long as you need. My name is Agatha Anderson, and I'm here to take care of you.
Renchy's eyes glistened with gratitude as he nodded, touched by Agatha's kindness. The warmth in her voice reassured him that he was not alone in this unfamiliar place.
Agatha's attention shifted, and she called out to her daughter with a gentle smile.
Agatha: (Calling out) Honey, come down! We have a guest here.
As Renchy's gaze turned toward the steps, a figure descended with youthful energy. The sight that met his eyes left him astonished and speechless. The girl who appeared before him had vibrant red hair, just like her mother's. Her features were full of curiosity and innocence, and her eyes sparkled with a sense of wonder. It was a younger version of both Renchy and Julie.
Agatha introduced her daughter with a proud smile.
Agatha: (Warmly) Renchy, this is our daughter, Julie. Be kind to him, Julie.
Renchy looked at Julie, his heart racing as he realized the uncanny resemblance between her and the young girl he had met earlier. The moment hung in the air, a powerful connection weaving through the threads of time. Julie extended her hand with a friendly smile.
Julie: (Cheerfully) Hi, Renchy! Nice to meet you.
Renchy was momentarily lost for words, his heart stirred by the familiar presence standing before him. He shook Julie's hand, a mixture of emotions swirling within him.
Renchy: (Softly) Nice to meet you too, Julie.
As their hands touched, a sensation of déjà vu washed over them. Ray got no words for that scene as she was younger version of the Julie.
To be continued...