The room was full of smoke and a strange smell that made it hard to breathe. Eight-year-old Isamu hid behind the couch, shaking. His parents' voices filled the air, begging for mercy.

He peeked out, his small hands gripping the edge of the couch.

In the middle of the room stood a tall man. His face was hidden by a big black hat, and he wore a long coat that touched the floor. He looked scary, like a shadow in the night.

"Please... don't hurt us," Isamu's mother cried, her voice soft and shaky.

The man didn't answer.

BANG!

The loud sound of a gunshot made Isamu cover his ears. His mother's body fell to the floor, and Isamu's heart felt like it was breaking.

The tall man turned slowly, his eyes scanning the room. Isamu held his breath, hoping he wouldn't be seen. The man's heavy footsteps came closer and closer. For a moment, Isamu thought the man would find him. But then the footsteps stopped.

The man stood still, then walked away. The sound of his boots faded until everything was silent again.

Isamu stayed frozen for a long time. When he finally came out from behind the couch, his legs felt weak. He walked toward his parents, his small hands shaking them.

"Mom… Dad… wake up," he whispered.

But they didn't move.

---

The Funeral

Rain fell hard, soaking everyone at the cemetery. Isamu stood alone, looking at the two graves. He was small and quiet, his face blank.

He didn't cry. His tears had dried up.

When the ceremony ended, people started leaving. But Isamu stayed, staring at the graves. He didn't want to leave his parents behind.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw a tall man dressed in black. His face was serious, and his eyes were sharp.

"You're alone now," the man said softly.

Isamu didn't say anything.

"Come with me," the man said, holding out his hand. "I'll take care of you."

Isamu looked at the graves, then back at the man. He had no one else. Slowly, he placed his small hand in the man's.

The man picked him up and carried him away. As they walked, Isamu turned to look at the graves one last time.

In his heart, he felt something grow—an ache that wasn't just sadness. It was anger. It was the need for answers.

He didn't know who the man was or why he was taking him. But he knew this: his life had changed forever.

"When a young boy saw the world's reality, his innocence quietly disappeared."