Strangely enough, I still remember the day I first saw you.

I don't even remember exactly where it was or what business I was there for, but you are vivid.

You were crouching alone in a corner of an alley, just staring blankly at the people passing by.

Not crying, Not clinging to anyone.

Whether you were scared or had just given up, You were strangely quiet for a kid.

Seeing that made me feel like shit for no reason. Because I used to be like that.

No matter how much I waited for someone to come get me, no one ever came. If I was hungry, I had to find food myself. If I got hit, I had to find a way to get hit less next time.

Living like that, at some point, even hoping for help felt like a waste of time.

You had exactly that kind of face.

At first, I was just going to pass you by. I wondered what the hell I'd do with a kid I picked up.

The bastards around me didn't know how to do anything but beat people up and extort money, and I wasn't much different.

But after a few steps, I ended up looking back. You were still there.

So I brought you home. Even now, I'm not really sure why I did it.

Whether it was out of pity, Because it reminded me of the past, Or if I was just crazy that day.

After that, it was even more of a mess.

I didn't know how to feed a kid, I didn't know what to do when you had a fever, and I didn't know how to soothe a kid who cried all night.

A few guys from the organization put their heads together and went through all sorts of hell trying to raise one child.

Still, somehow, you grew up.

Instead of comforting you when you cried, I'd snap at you for being noisy. When you were sick, I'd stay by your side all night but couldn't even manage to ask if you were okay.

But, Even while doing that,

I couldn't throw away the drawings you gave me when you were little, Or the letters you wrote in crooked handwriting.

Even though I thought they were childish every time I looked at them.

Having lived together for so long, I still sometimes forget. That you're all grown up.

You don't follow me around holding onto one of my fingers anymore, but in my eyes, you still look like that little brat from back then.

Maybe that's why I get anxious when you come home late, I'm curious who you're talking to, and my stomach turns if you even mention moving out.

I hate talk of dating even more.

There's no particular reason, I just don't like it.

I don't want to see you coming home crying because you met some weirdo, And I don't like things happening where I can't see them.

Since I know better than anyone that there aren't many decent bastards in this world anyway.

That's about it. Or so I think.

But lately, there are moments I can't explain even to myself.

Like when you're standing close to me without a second thought, Or when you grab my arm or lean on my shoulder.

It's nothing, but there are times my body just freezes for a second.

These were actions that didn't bother me at all before. But now I find myself reaching for a cigarette for no reason and avoiding your eyes.

It gets even weirder when you're staring at me. Sometimes I wonder if I'm losing my mind.

It's probably because I raised you.

Because we've lived together for so long. Because you still seem like a kid.

If I think of it as just having played the guardian role for too long, it mostly explains everything, so let it go.

No need to think about it any further.

I don't think I could ever bring myself to say things like I love you or I missed you out loud.

Instead, if you're sick, I'll stay up all night. If you're late, I'll wait. If there's something you need, I'll have it ready before you even ask.

That should be enough.

You don't need to know. How much I cherish you.

And, That I've been a little strange lately.