NOVEL NEXT Chapter 2: The Struggle
His mother's hold tightened, her gaze steady and full of love as she pulled back to look at him. "Oh, Yamoshi, they don't hate you. They are afraid of what they see in you—something they cannot place, something that feels beyond their reach. We, as a people, respect strength, but only when it fits within the bounds of what we know. You..." she paused, her voice softening as she brushed a stray tear from his cheek, "you are the chosen boy."
Her words hung in the air as she gazed into his radiant golden eyes, eyes that seemed to glow with an untapped power. "You are destined for something greater, Yamoshi. One day, they will understand, and so will you."
"But... but what should I do?" Yamoshi asked, his voice trembling with a glimmer of hope. If there was even the smallest chance, he wanted to take it—anything to be accepted, to play alongside the other children without fear or rejection.
Eira knelt before him, her hands gently cupping his face as she gazed into his golden eyes. "Let them know you, my son," she said, her voice steady and filled with warmth. "Even if they curse you, even if they lash out or try to hurt you, do not strike back. Show them the strength of your heart, Yamoshi—the soft, pure light that shines within you."
Her hands moved to rest on his small shoulders. "You are not bad because you are different. They just don't see it yet. But if you let them feel your kindness, your warmth, they will realize their mistake. They will change. Believe in that."
Yamoshi nodded, her words sinking into his heart like seeds of hope. "I will..." he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper but carrying the resolve of a promise.
He turned and stepped toward the door, the wooden frame casting a long shadow over his small figure. Eira watched him go, her hands pressed to her chest, silently praying he would find the courage to face the world—and that the world would find the courage to accept him.
His mother's hold tightened, her gaze steady and full of love as she pulled back to look at him. "Oh, Yamoshi, they don't hate you. They are afraid of what they see in you—something they cannot place, something that feels beyond their reach. We, as a people, respect strength, but only when it fits within the bounds of what we know.
You..." she paused, her voice softening as she brushed a stray tear from his cheek, "you are the chosen boy."
Her words hung in the air as she gazed into his radiant golden eyes, eyes that seemed to glow with an untapped power. "You are destined for something greater, Yamoshi. One day, they will understand, and so will you."
"But... but what should I do?" Yamoshi asked, his voice trembling with a glimmer of hope. If there was even the smallest chance, he wanted to take it—anything to be accepted, to play alongside the other children without fear or rejection.
Eira knelt before him, her hands gently cupping his face as she gazed into his golden eyes. "Let them know you, my son," she said, her voice steady and filled with warmth. "Even if they curse you, even if they lash out or try to hurt you, do not strike back. Show them the strength of your heart, Yamoshi—the soft, pure light that shines within you."
Her hands moved to rest on his small shoulders. "You are not bad because you are different. They just don't see it yet. But if you let them feel your kindness, your warmth, they will realize their mistake. They will change. Believe in that."
Yamoshi nodded, her words sinking into his heart like seeds of hope. "I will..." he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper but carrying the resolve of a promise.
He turned and stepped toward the door, the wooden frame casting a long shadow over his small figure. Eira watched him go, her hands pressed to her chest, silently praying he would find the courage to face the world—and that the world would find the courage to accept him.
Alone, without a single friend to share his days, Yamoshi grew accustomed to the quiet. His childhood unfolded like an endless, solitary walk through stillness. While the other children played together in laughter and noise, Yamoshi sought the embrace of the forest, a place where he could wander freely, untouched by judgment.
In the heart of nature, he found a different kind of companionship. He observed the rustling of leaves, the way the wind wove through the trees, and the intricate lives of creatures around him. Here, in this vast, living world, Yamoshi learned not from books or words but from the rhythms of life itself.
With a heart as pure as a sunlit stream, he unknowingly drew animals to him. Birds would perch nearby, their songs softer as if meant just for him. Deer emerged from the shadows, their cautious eyes calm in his presence. Even the smallest of creatures—rabbits, squirrels, and insects—seemed to recognize something in him, something gentle and safe.
He didn't understand why they came to him, but he never questioned it. He simply accepted it, his quiet heart finding solace in their unspoken trust. It was as if nature itself had chosen him, wrapping him in a friendship deeper than words. For Yamoshi, the forest became his sanctuary, the only place where he truly felt seen and understood.
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