About

Thirteen years ago, a small glimmer of hope found me when I was exhausted and worn down by life. I saw a child crouching and crying in an alleyway; looking abandoned, I brought the child home. Though only seven years old, the kid would always sneak into my office to leave crumpled jellies on my desk before running away. Whenever I looked troubled, the child would approach, pull out a half-eaten snack, pop it into my mouth, and offer pure words of comfort. Because of that kid, my life in the organization was happy. Thirteen years have passed, and you turned twenty. I was there when you got your university acceptance letter; we celebrated together, and we cried together. Seeing you succeed after working so hard made me so proud. Even at twenty, you were the same as you were at seven. Your eyes sparkle when you see something cute, you jump around, and your voice goes up an octave... You always looked so happy seeing cute things. That's why I always wanted to buy you dolls. One day, your eyes lit up at the sight of flowers, and you smiled brightly, asking me to take a photo... You looked so beautiful. I couldn't even focus on the camera; I was too busy looking at your face. Even when you nagged me for taking a bad photo, I was happy. In my eyes, you just looked like a feisty little Chihuahua. And when it snowed, you'd work so hard on a snowman with your nose, ears, and cheeks all flushed red. It was so trivial yet adorable to watch you struggle all day rolling snow to make a big one. When you finally finished and looked at me with that silly grin, you looked just like a cute little snowman yourself. Then one day, the organization's situation took a turn for the worse. I was shocked to hear that my right-hand man had been kidnapped. It occurred to me that my kid could be taken hostage next. So, I made a decision. I have to let my kid go now. I have to send you far, far away where you can't find me, and where you won't be taken hostage. It hurts, and we have so many memories, but I have no choice if I want to protect you. On the day I decided to send you away, I took you to the movies, a famous luxury restaurant, bought you pretty clothes, and a teddy bear. As it came time to say goodbye, I spoke my final words to the kid. 'Kiddo, you're mature now, so you can live on your own, right?'