Chapter Text
Wangnan had never been one to fixate on things. He was the kind of person who lived in the moment, who took life as it came. But lately, something had changed. Ever since that ambush incident, when Viole had started expressing doubts about his identity, a nagging obsession had taken root in Wangnan's mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about it—about who Viole really was, where he had come from, and what his life had been like before they met. The mystery gnawed at him, consuming his thoughts to the point where he found it difficult to focus on anything else.
It wasn’t long before Wangnan’s obsession started to show. He would spend hours poring over any clues he could find, piecing together bits of information that might hint at Viole’s past. He combed through old records, asked around the island for anyone who might have seen or heard something unusual, and even began questioning Viole’s habits and behaviors in an attempt to find some hidden meaning in them.
His responsibilities began to slip. Chores were left unfinished, tasks were delayed, and he became increasingly distant from the rest of the family. It didn’t take long for Akraptor to notice. One afternoon, after Wangnan had missed yet another meeting about their food supplies, Akraptor decided it was time to confront him.
Wangnan was sitting inside his room, face upfront with his computer, papers and notes scattered around him in a chaotic mess. He was so deep in thought, scribbling down ideas and theories, that he didn’t even notice Akraptor until he was standing right in front of him.
"Wangnan," Akraptor said, his voice firm, "we need to talk."
Wangnan looked up, startled. "Akraptor? What’s up?"
Akraptor crossed his arms, his expression was serious. "I should be asking you that. What’s going on with you? You’ve been neglecting your duties, and it’s starting to affect the rest of us. This isn’t like you."
Wangnan rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a pang of guilt. He knew he had been letting things slide, but he couldn’t help it. The mystery of Viole’s identity had become all-consuming. "I’m sorry, Akraptor. I know I’ve been slacking off lately, but… there’s just something I can’t stop thinking about."
Akraptor raised an eyebrow. "And what’s that?"
Wangnan hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, "Viole. His past. His real identity. I can’t stop wondering who he really is, where he came from, and why he can’t remember anything. It’s driving me crazy."
Akraptor frowned, leaning against the table. "Wangnan, you’re not the only one who’s curious about Viole’s past. We all are. But obsessing over it isn’t going to help anyone, least of all Viole."
Wangnan’s eyes widened in surprise. "You’ve wondered about it too?"
"Of course I have," Akraptor admitted. "We all have. But we’ve also accepted that Viole doesn’t remember, and that’s something we can’t change. What we can do is be here for him in the present, to support him as he is now."
Wangnan looked down at the mess of papers on the table, feeling a mix of frustration and helplessness. "But what if his past is something dangerous? What if it comes back to haunt us all? Don’t you want to know who he really is?"
Akraptor sighed, placing a hand on Wangnan’s shoulder. "Wangnan, I get it. I really do. But you can’t let this consume you. Viole is our friend, and right now, he needs us to be there for him, not to get lost in some search for answers we might never find. Besides, if Viole wanted to know more about his past, he’d be the one looking for it, not you."
Wangnan opened his mouth to argue, but then stopped himself. Akraptor was right. He had been so focused on finding out the truth about Viole’s past that he hadn’t stopped to think about what Viole actually wanted. He realized that in his quest for answers, he had been ignoring Viole’s wishes, pushing his own agenda instead of respecting Viole’s need for space.
"You’re right," Wangnan finally said, his voice subdued. "I’ve been so caught up in this that I didn’t even think about what Viole might want. I’ve been a terrible friend."
Akraptor squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You’re not a terrible friend, Wangnan. You care about Viole, and that’s why this is bothering you so much. But sometimes, caring means knowing when to let go, when to step back and give someone the space they need."
Wangnan nodded slowly, feeling the weight of Akraptor’s words sink in. He knew he needed to change his approach, to stop obsessing over things he couldn’t control and start focusing on what really mattered—being there for Viole and the rest of their makeshift family.
"Thanks, Akraptor," Wangnan said after a moment, offering a small smile. "I needed to hear that."
"Anytime," Akraptor replied, returning the smile. "Now, why don’t you take a break from all this and help me with the food inventory? We could use an extra set of hands."
Wangnan laughed softly. "Yeah, I think I could use a break from all this too."
The two of them left the shack together, and for the first time in days, Wangnan felt a sense of relief wash over him. He still had questions, still wondered about Viole’s past, but he knew now that those questions couldn’t be the center of his life. He had responsibilities, friends who depended on him, and a new resolve to be the kind of friend that Viole needed.
As for Viole, the days that followed his conversation with Wangnan were filled with a strange sense of both peace and uncertainty. The conversation had brought a lot of things to the surface—feelings he had been trying to ignore, questions he had been too afraid to ask himself. But it had also made him realize something important: he didn’t have to be defined by his past, by the memories he had lost. He could choose to live in the present, to find meaning in the life he had now, with the people who had become his family.
It wasn’t easy. The pull of the unknown, of the past he couldn’t remember, was still there, still lingering at the edges of his mind. But Viole found that the more he focused on the present, on the relationships he had built on the island, the less power that pull seemed to have over him.
One evening, as the sun was setting over the ocean, Viole found himself sitting on the beach, watching the waves roll in and out. The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, the colors reflecting off the water in a mesmerizing display. It was moments like this that reminded him of the beauty in life, the simple pleasures that could be found even in the midst of uncertainty.
Wangnan approached him, carrying two cups of tea. He handed one to Viole before sitting down beside him. "Beautiful, isn’t it?" Wangnan said, nodding toward the sunset.
"Yeah," Viole agreed, taking a sip of his tea. The warmth of the drink was comforting, grounding him in the moment. "It is."
They sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying the peacefulness of the scene. After a while, Wangnan broke the silence.
"I’ve been thinking a lot lately," he began, his voice contemplative. "About everything that’s happened since you came to this island, about you and your… situation. I realized that I’ve been so caught up in trying to figure out who you were that I forgot to appreciate who you are now."
Viole turned to look at him, surprised by the admission. "Wangnan…"
"No, let me finish," Wangnan interrupted gently. "I’ve been selfish, Viole. I wanted to know your past behind your back because I thought it would help me understand you better, but I didn’t stop to think about what you wanted. I forgot that it’s not the past that defines us, but the choices we make now, in the present. And I want you to know that no matter what you decide, no matter what you remember or don’t remember, I’m here for you. We all are."
Viole felt a warmth spread through his chest at Wangnan’s words. It was a feeling he had come to cherish since he had met Wangnan and the others—a sense of belonging, of being accepted for who he was, not for who he might have been.
"Thank you, Wangnan," Viole said softly. "That means a lot to me. I’ve been struggling with these questions about my past for a long time, but I’ve realized that maybe it’s okay not to have all the answers. Maybe it’s okay to just… live in the moment, to focus on the life I have now instead of the one I can’t remember."
Wangnan smiled, relief evident in his eyes. "I think that’s a good way to look at it. We can’t change the past, but we can make the most of the present. And from where I’m standing, the present looks pretty good."
Viole chuckled, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "Yeah, it does."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in twilight, Viole felt a sense of peace settle over him. He still didn’t have all the answers, still didn’t know who he had been before he came to the island, but for the first time, he was okay with that. He had a new life now, a new family, and that was enough.
Over the next few weeks, Viole made a conscious effort to focus on the present, to live each day to the fullest. He spent more time with Wangnan and the others, helping with chores, sharing meals, and enjoying the simple pleasures of life on the island. He found himself laughing more, smiling more, and even though the shadow of his lost memories still lingered, it no longer held the same power over him.
One evening, as they were all gathered around the campfire, Viole looked around at the faces of his family—Wangnan, Akraptor, Yihwa, Horyang, Miseng, Goseng, and Prince. He realized that these were the people who had become his family, who had accepted him for who he was now, not who he had been. And in that moment, he felt a sense of contentment that he hadn’t felt in a long time.
He leaned back against a log, watching the flames dance in the fire, and smiled to himself. He didn’t know what the future held, didn’t know if he would ever regain his lost memories, but he knew one thing for certain: he was happy, and that was enough.
As the fire crackled and the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Viole made a silent promise to himself. He would live in the present, cherish the moments he had with the people he cared about, and create new memories that weren’t tied to his mysterious past. And whatever the future held, he would face it with the strength he had found in his new life, with his new family by his side.
The night wore on, and one by one, the others began to drift off to sleep. Wangnan, who had been sitting next to Viole, yawned and stretched. "I’m beat," he said with a tired grin. "I think I’m gonna call it a night."
Viole nodded. "Yeah, me too. Thanks for the talk earlier, Wangnan. I really needed it."
"Anytime," Wangnan replied, clapping him on the shoulder. "That’s what friends are for, right?"
"Right," Viole agreed, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at the word "friends."
As they all settled down for the night, Viole lay on his back, staring up at the stars. He felt a sense of peace that he hadn’t felt in a long time, a sense of belonging that went beyond words. He didn’t have all the answers, but he had something even more important—a family, a home, and a new life that he was determined to live to the fullest.
With that thought, Viole closed his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips. For the first time in a long time, he felt truly content. The past might always be a mystery, but the present was something he could hold onto, something he could cherish. And that was enough.
As sleep began to claim him, Viole made one final promise to himself: no matter what the future held, he would face it with courage, with hope, and with the knowledge that he was not alone. He had his friends, his family, and a life worth living. And that was all that mattered.
After Viole made the decision to leave his past behind and focus on his new life with Wangnan and the rest of their family, the days seemed to settle into a comfortable routine. The quiet moments they shared were precious, filled with the warmth of companionship.
Wangnan had promised Akraptor that he would stop digging into Viole’s past. After all, Viole had finally found some peace, and Wangnan wanted to respect that. The days flowed by, each one much like the last, with the family going about their daily lives—Miseng and Goseng often giggling over some silly joke, Horyang quietly reading in the corner, Yihwa and Prince bickering good-naturedly, and Akraptor keeping a watchful eye over everyone.
Viole seemed to be adjusting well to this new life. He was quieter than the others, but he smiled more now, and his presence was a calming one. Wangnan found himself content in those moments, feeling that maybe, just maybe, they had left the worst behind them.
One evening, as they all sat around the table, sharing a meal, Wangnan couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude for this little family they had built. Viole was seated beside him, eating in his usual quiet manner, while the others chatted and laughed.
“This stew is amazing, Akraptor,” Yihwa said, ladling herself a second helping. “I swear, you could open a restaurant.”
Akraptor chuckled, waving off the compliment. “If I opened a restaurant, who would keep all of you in line?”
“Oh please,” Prince muttered, rolling his eyes. “Like we’re that difficult.”
“You are, actually,” Goseng chimed in, earning a playful glare from Prince.
As the conversation continued around him, Wangnan glanced at Viole. “You’re doing okay, right?” he asked softly, not wanting to draw too much attention to them.
Viole looked at him and nodded. “I’m fine. Thank you, Wangnan.”
The sincerity in Viole’s voice reassured Wangnan. They were okay. They were all okay. The past didn’t need to matter anymore. They had each other, and that was enough.
But the peace they had found would soon be tested.
A few days later, Wangnan received a message that would shatter the calm he had so carefully tried to maintain. It was late in the evening, and the others had already gone to bed. Wangnan was sitting by the window, lost in thought, when his phone buzzed. He picked it up, expecting a routine message or maybe a reminder about some errand, but what he saw made his blood run cold.
The message was from an unknown sender, and it contained only a few words:
The past is never truly forgotten. He is not who you think he is.
Wangnan stared at the screen, his heart pounding. Who had sent this? What did they know? And, more importantly, what did it mean?
He read the message over and over, hoping to find some clue, some hint that would make sense of it. But there was nothing. Just those cryptic words, hanging over him like a dark cloud.
Wangnan had promised Akraptor that he would stop searching for information about Viole’s past. He had meant to keep that promise, but now... Now, he wasn’t so sure. This message—it wasn’t something he could ignore. Whoever had sent it knew something, something important. He thought about telling Akraptor, but he hesitated. He didn’t want to worry him, not when things had finally settled down. But he couldn’t just let this go, either. He needed to know the truth.
The next morning, Wangnan decided that he would start searching for clues again, but this time, he would do it on his own. He wouldn’t drag anyone else into it—not yet, anyway. If he could find something, anything, that would explain this message, then he could decide what to do next.
As the days passed, Wangnan found himself growing more and more determined. He began asking questions, subtle at first, trying to avoid drawing too much attention. Wangnan knew some informants were wary of questions, especially about things that didn’t seem to concern them. But Wangnan was careful. He didn’t mention Viole by name, only described his appearance, hoping that someone might recognize him.
But no one did. It was as if Viole had never existed before Wangnan had found him. Every lead he thought he had turned into a dead end, and every door he tried to open was firmly shut in his face.
Still, Wangnan didn’t give up. He couldn’t. The message haunted him, pushing him forward even when it seemed hopeless. He found himself lying awake at night, replaying every conversation, every bit of information he had gathered, trying to piece it all together. But it was like trying to solve a puzzle with half the pieces missing.
One evening, as Wangnan was heading out to follow up on another lead, Akraptor caught him at the door. “Wangnan, can I talk to you for a minute?”
Wangnan froze, his hand on the doorknob. “Uh, sure, what’s up?”
Akraptor crossed his arms, his expression was serious. “You’ve been acting strange lately. I know you promised to stop looking into Viole’s past, but I can tell something’s changed. What’s going on?”
Wangnan’s heart skipped a beat. He had hoped no one would notice, but of course, Akraptor would. He was too observant for his own good. “It’s nothing, really,” Wangnan said, trying to sound casual. “I’ve just been a bit restless, that’s all.”
Akraptor raised an eyebrow. “Restless? Wangnan, I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re hiding something. Spill it.”
Wangnan sighed, realizing he couldn’t keep this from Akraptor any longer. “Alright, fine. I’ve been getting these weird messages, okay? They’re about Viole, and they’re... unsettling. I didn’t want to worry anyone, so I’ve been trying to figure it out on my own.”
Akraptor’s expression softened slightly. “Messages? What kind of messages?”
Wangnan pulled out his phone and showed Akraptor the message he had received. Akraptor read it, his brow furrowing. “Who sent this?”
“I don’t know,” Wangnan admitted. “But whoever it is, they know something about Viole’s past. I couldn’t just ignore it.”
Akraptor was silent for a moment, his gaze distant as he considered the situation. Finally, he looked at Wangnan. “If you’re determined to find out the truth, then I’m coming with you.”
Wangnan blinked in surprise. “What? But—”
“No buts,” Akraptor said firmly. “If someone out there knows about Viole’s past, we need to know too. But we’ll do it together. And we keep this between us, alright? The others don’t need to know, not until we have something concrete.”
Wangnan hesitated. He hadn’t wanted to drag Akraptor into this, but he also knew that having him by his side would make things easier—and safer. “Okay,” he agreed. “We’ll do this together.”
With Akraptor’s help, Wangnan felt a renewed sense of purpose. They began their search in earnest, combing through every possible lead, talking to contacts they know in the police field that may hold databases of persons who were missing years ago, and following up on any scrap of information they could find. But the more they searched, the more elusive the answers became.
Every time they thought they were getting close, the trail would go cold. It was as if Viole’s past had been erased, wiped clean from every record, every memory. No one knew him, no one had heard of him, and no one could tell them anything useful.
Days turned into weeks, and still, they found nothing. Wangnan grew more frustrated with each passing day, while Akraptor remained calm, reminding him that they had to be patient, that the truth would come out eventually.
One evening, after another fruitless search, they returned home, both of them exhausted and discouraged. The house was quiet, the others already asleep.
“This is getting us nowhere,” Wangnan muttered, sinking into a chair. “It’s like he doesn’t exist.”
Akraptor leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “He does exist, Wangnan. We just haven’t found the right thread to pull yet.”
Wangnan rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. “I just don’t understand. How can someone like Viole have no past? It doesn’t make any sense.”
Akraptor sighed, sitting down across from him. “Maybe it’s not that he doesn’t have a past. Maybe it’s that someone doesn’t want us to find it.”
Wangnan looked up at him, frowning. “What do you mean?”
Akraptor shrugged. “Think about it. If Viole’s past is as important as these messages seem to suggest, then maybe someone has gone to great lengths to keep it hidden. We’re not just up against time or bad luck, Wangnan. We’re up against someone who doesn’t want us to know the truth.”
The thought sent a shiver down Wangnan’s spine. He hadn’t considered that possibility, but it made sense. If Viole’s past was connected to something—or someone—powerful, then it would explain why they were hitting so many dead ends.
“So what do we do?” Wangnan asked, feeling a bit lost.
“We keep looking,” Akraptor said, his voice steady. “But we also need to be careful. If someone’s trying to keep Viole’s past buried, they won’t like us digging it up. We need to be smart about this, Wangnan. And we need to be ready for whatever we might find.”
Wangnan nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. They had come this far—he wasn’t about to give up now. “You’re right. We’ll keep going. We’ll find the truth, no matter what.”
Akraptor gave him a small, reassuring smile. “That’s the spirit. We’re in this together, Wangnan. We’ll figure it out.”
And so, despite the mounting obstacles, Wangnan and Akraptor continued their search, driven by the cryptic messages and the growing mystery surrounding Viole’s past. They knew it wouldn’t be easy, and they knew the road ahead was fraught with danger, but they were determined to uncover the truth—no matter what it cost them.
The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over the island. It was one of those rare, mundane days where the entire family—Viole, Wangnan, Akraptor, Miseng, Goseng, Prince, Horyang, and Yihwa—had no pressing matters to attend to, no missions or hidden agendas, just a day to relax and enjoy each other’s company. The sound of the waves gently lapping against the shore mixed with the cheerful voices of Miseng and Prince, who were splashing about in the shallow water.
Viole sat on the sand near the shoreline, his eyes following Miseng as she floated on her inflatable ring, bobbing up and down with the rhythm of the sea. He smiled faintly, a rare but genuine expression, as he turned his attention to Prince, who was deeply engrossed in building an elaborate sandcastle. Viole carefully handed him another handful of wet sand.
“Is this enough?” Viole asked, watching Prince shape the sand with meticulous concentration.
Prince nodded without looking up, his brow furrowed in focus. “Yeah, just a bit more and we can start the towers.”
Viole found it oddly calming to watch the children play. Their innocence, their joy in the simplest things—like the thrill of swimming and the challenge of constructing the perfect sandcastle—reminded him of a part of himself that seemed lost. He didn’t remember his past, not much of it at least, but days like this made him feel connected to something, even if he couldn’t put it into words.
A short distance away, Wangnan and Akraptor stood side by side, their gazes fixed on Viole. They had been watching him for some time now, exchanging uneasy glances as they tried to make sense of the enigma that was Viole. Despite their best efforts and the help of discreet informants, they had found little to no information about his past. It was as if he had appeared out of nowhere, a blank slate with nothing to offer but the present.
Wangnan broke the silence first, his voice low and tinged with frustration. “I still don’t get it, Akraptor. How can someone like him have no past? No records, no history… it doesn’t make sense.”
Akraptor sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he considered his words. “It’s not that simple, Wangnan. Some people… they go through things, things that make them want to disappear, to erase who they were. Viole could be one of those people. Maybe he’s hiding from something, or someone.”
“But what if he’s not?” Wangnan countered, his voice rising slightly. “What if he’s just… lost? What if he doesn’t even know who he really is? It’s like there’s this huge wall between him and his memories, and we’re just standing here, helpless.”
Akraptor looked over at Viole, who was now helping Prince carve out a doorway in the sandcastle. There was something almost tragic in the way Viole moved, in the way he interacted with the world around him, as if he was an outsider looking in.
“I get what you’re saying,” Akraptor said after a moment. “But until we find something concrete, we can’t push him. He’s part of our family now, and we have to respect his space, his pace.”
Wangnan nodded, though the uneasy feeling in his chest didn’t dissipate. “I know. I just… I worry, you know? What if we never find out who he is? What if his past catches up with him before we do?”
Akraptor placed a reassuring hand on Wangnan’s shoulder. “We’ll deal with it when the time comes. For now, let’s just enjoy the peace while we have it. Viole seems happy here, with us, and that’s what matters.”
Wangnan sighed, forcing a small smile. “You’re right. I guess I’m just overthinking things, as usual.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, watching as Viole and the children continued their playful activities. Miseng’s laughter rang out across the beach as she splashed water at Prince, who retaliated by threatening to knock over her floatie. Viole watched them with a gentle expression, his presence a calming influence on the otherwise chaotic scene.
As the day wore on, the sun began to dip towards the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. The group slowly gathered their things, ready to head back to the house they had made their temporary home on the island. Miseng and Prince, reluctant to leave the beach, took one last dive into the water before Goseng called them over.
“Come on, kids, it’s time to go,” Goseng said, her tone firm but kind.
Miseng pouted, but she complied, dragging her floatie along the sand. Prince, on the other hand, was more focused on saving the remains of his sandcastle, scooping up a handful of shells to take with him as souvenirs.
Viole helped Miseng gather her things, making sure she had everything before they headed back. His shirt was soaked from the water and sand, clinging to his lean frame as they made their way up the beach.
When they reached the house, Goseng noticed Viole’s state and frowned. “Viole, your shirt is all wet. You should change into something dry before you catch a cold.”
Viole blinked, as if only just realizing the dampness. “Oh, right. I’ll do that.”
He headed to his room, pulling off his wet shirt as he went. As he did, Wangnan, who was passing by, caught a glimpse of something that made him stop in his tracks. There, right in the middle of Viole’s chest, was a scar—a jagged, pale line that stood out against his skin, right where a person’s heart would be.
It wasn’t the first time Wangnan had seen that scar. He remembered the first time he had asked Viole about it, back when they had just started living together. Viole had simply looked down at the scar, his expression blank, and said he didn’t remember how he got it. That had been the end of the conversation, but the image of that scar had stayed with Wangnan ever since.
Now, as he stood there, staring at it again, a deep unease settled in the pit of his stomach. There was something about that scar that didn’t sit right with him, something that felt… wrong.
Wangnan forced himself to look away as Viole disappeared into his room to change. He knew it was just a scar, just a mark left behind by some long-forgotten injury, but it still bothered him. Especially now, with everything he and Akraptor had been doing to uncover Viole’s past. The more they dug, the more it felt like they were uncovering pieces of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit together.
Later that evening, the family gathered around the dinner table, the atmosphere warm and lively. Miseng and Prince were still chattering about their day at the beach, while Horyang and Yihwa teased each other over who had caught more fish earlier. Akraptor was trying to convince Goseng to let him cook dinner the next day, despite her protests that he was a terrible cook.
Through it all, Wangnan couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him since seeing Viole’s scar. He kept glancing over at Viole, who was quietly eating his meal, seemingly oblivious to the tension in Wangnan’s gaze.
At one point, Viole looked up and caught Wangnan staring. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but concerned.
Wangnan shook his head quickly, forcing a smile. “No, nothing’s wrong. Just… thinking about stuff.”
Viole nodded, accepting the answer without question, and went back to his food. But Wangnan couldn’t help but wonder if Viole had noticed his unease, if he had picked up on the fact that something was bothering him.
After dinner, the family scattered to their usual evening activities. Miseng and Prince retreated to their room to play, while Horyang and Yihwa settled down to watch a movie. Goseng and Akraptor cleaned up the kitchen, bickering good-naturedly over who should wash the dishes. Viole, as usual, slipped away to the porch, where he often went to sit and watch the stars.
Wangnan followed him out, needing to clear his head. He found Viole sitting on the steps, staring up at the sky with that same quiet, contemplative expression he always wore when he was deep in thought.
“Mind if I join you?” Wangnan asked, already sitting down beside him.
Viole shook his head. “No, I don’t mind.”
They sat in silence for a while, the sound of the waves in the distance the only thing breaking the quiet. Wangnan glanced over at Viole, trying to find the right words to say. He didn’t want to pry, didn’t want to push, but he couldn’t just ignore the nagging feeling that something was off.
“Viole,” he began cautiously, “do you ever… I mean, do you ever wonder about your past? About who you were before all of this?”
Viole didn’t respond right away. His eyes remained fixed on the stars, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “Always. But it’s like trying to remember a dream. The more I think about it, the more it slips away.”
Wangnan nodded slowly, understanding the frustration in Viole’s words. “I get that. It must be hard, not knowing where you come from, or who you were.”
Viole’s gaze dropped to his hands, which were resting in his lap. “It is. But I try not to dwell on it too much. I have a new life now, with all of you. That’s what matters.”
Wangnan felt a pang of guilt for bringing up the subject. He knew Viole valued his new life with them, but he also knew that the past had a way of creeping up on you, no matter how hard you tried to forget it.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Wangnan said, forcing a smile. “We’re your family now, and we’re not going anywhere.”
Viole looked over at him, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Thank you, Wangnan. That means a lot.”
They fell into a comfortable silence again, the weight of the conversation easing a little. Wangnan knew he couldn’t solve the mystery of Viole’s past on his own, but he also knew that he would do whatever it took to protect him, to keep him safe, no matter what.
As the night wore on, the rest of the family began to turn in for the night. Akraptor poked his head out the door, nodding at Wangnan and Viole. “You two coming in soon?”
Wangnan nodded. “Yeah, we’ll be there in a bit.”
Akraptor gave them a thumbs up before disappearing back inside. Viole sighed softly, getting to his feet. “We should probably head in. It’s getting late.”
Wangnan stood up as well, stretching his arms above his head. “Yeah, you’re right.”
They walked back to the house together, the cool night air wrapping around them like a blanket. As they reached the door, Wangnan paused, glancing over at Viole one last time.
“Hey, Viole,” he said, his voice soft. “No matter what happens, we’ve got your back. You know that, right?”
Viole looked at him, a flicker of something—gratitude, maybe—passing through his eyes. “I know. And I’m grateful for that, more than you know.”
With that, they headed inside, the warmth of the house enveloping them as they closed the door behind them. The night was quiet, peaceful, and for now, that was enough. The mysteries of the past could wait. What mattered was the present, the family they had built together, and the bonds that held them close.
And as Viole lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment, a feeling that maybe, just maybe, he had found a place where he truly belonged. The past was still a shadow hanging over him, but in this moment, with the people he cared about nearby, he could almost forget about it. Almost.