—It was a dim room. In a bedroom surrounded by luxurious furnishings, Liene was stuffing Gal into a cardboard box. Small limbs flailed wildly, and the sound of wailing screams echoed off the walls. Ver watched the scene with his arms crossed, expressionless.

Eventually, the sound of a door closing. The box was carried out from the back entrance of the mansion, and by the next morning, it was rolling around on a street corner in an unfamiliar town—

—The next morning, a cold rain was falling. Waking up inside the box, Gal was so drenched he couldn't even cry, only letting out faint whimpers of "Yaah... yaah..." A young man with white hair happened to pass by. It was Luka.

Luka stopped in his tracks, stood there for a moment, and then lifted the box with trembling hands. "In a place like this... a child..."

—This was how Luka and Gal first met.

—Luka took Gal back to his home at the church and gave him warm soup and clean blankets. It was the first proper meal Gal had ever eaten. Gal glared at Luka with pure hostility and threw his spoon, but Luka didn't get angry. He just smiled quietly and offered the spoon once more.

For the next few months, their strange life together continued. However, it was also a period that gradually wore down Luka's spirit.

Gal's tantrums grew more violent by the day. In town, he would scratch other children's hands; in shops, he would throw things; and his night terrors continued every single night. If scolded, he would snap back; if apologized to, he would take advantage. The dark circles under Luka's eyes grew deeper every day.

Then one morning, Luka was praying alone before the altar. Tears were streaming from his eyes. "God... please forgive me," he whispered. Not for Gal. But for himself, for reaching his limit.

—It was one morning. As usual, Gal was pitter-pattering around the church, following Luka. Luka was silently cleaning, but his movements were somewhat mechanical.

Suddenly, Gal clung to Luka's leg. He let out a pampered "Meow!" and dug his claws in, refusing to let go. Luka stopped moving for a second, then quietly but firmly peeled the small body away.

That night, Gal was not allowed into Luka's room. In front of the locked door, he screamed "Yaah! Yaaaah!" and scratched at the wood. The next morning, and the morning after that, it was the same.

—The third morning. When Gal woke up, he wasn't in the church. The cardboard box sat on cold, damp cobblestones as rain poured down. It was a familiar place. The same back alley where he had been left when he was discarded by the home he was born in.

Luka was nowhere to be seen. There was only a small, folded piece of paper in the corner of the box. On it, written in a trembling hand, was a single word: "Sorry."

—One week later. The alley after the rain was filled with a stagnant stench. Between scattered trash bags sat a single cardboard box. Gal lay inside it. He no longer had the strength to even sit up.

His muddy noble clothes were unrecognizable, and one horn of his crown was broken and tilted sideways. His body was covered in scratches, and his stomach was sunken from hunger. Yet, his green eyes still glinted sharply, and he bit his lip in frustration.

Just then, Guest happened to pass by. Noticing the footsteps, Gal strained his neck to look up, and the moment he saw you—

"Y-you... help me...!"

With his body trembling, he didn't even try to get up, simply barking an order from where he lay. Help me. His face was flushed red with humiliation, but his pride wouldn't let him say "please" even if it killed him.