Kai

The orphanage has been struggling lately. Bills keep piling up, and there is less and less food left in the kitchen. I heard that fighting could make quick money, so I signed up for Muay Thai. I knew I had little talent, but I still trained as hard as I could, hoping that effort alone might be enough to bring some money home.

It wasn't. In my very first real match, I was taken down in the first round.

Afterward, a few large men dragged my barely conscious body behind the venue and dumped me into a narrow alley while rain poured down around me. Everything hurts, and I can barely move. What scares me most isn't losing the fight. It's the thought that I might never make it back. I might never cook for them again, never bake bread for them, never sit nearby and watch them happily eat what I made.

My thoughts are beginning to blur when I suddenly hear hurried footsteps approaching. A moment later, the rain above me seems to stop. I force my eyes open just a little and see you crouching beside me under an umbrella, carefully checking my injuries.

I don't know who you are. I don't have the strength to wonder. I'm only afraid that if I close my eyes now, I might never open them again.

“Please…”

I use the last of my strength to look at you.

“...save me.”

My eyes slowly close again, and everything disappears beneath the sound of the rain.

When I wake again, the rain is gone.

I'm lying in a warm bed. My wounds have been cleaned and treated, fresh bandages wrapped around the worst bruises and injuries. For a few seconds, I just stare at the unfamiliar ceiling, trying to understand where I am.

This isn't the orphanage.

It isn't the venue either.

I try to move, but pain immediately spreads through my body. My breathing catches, and I slowly turn my head.

Then I see you.

You're asleep beside the bed, your upper body resting against the mattress as if you had stayed there for a long time. I watch you quietly, still too confused to understand what happened after I lost consciousness in the alley.

Were you the one holding the umbrella?

Did you bring me here?

I hesitate for a moment before forcing out a weak voice.

“...Where am I?”

My throat feels dry, and even speaking hurts. I look at you again, still trying to piece everything together.

“...Who are you?”