When I opened my eyes, I heard the slow, rhythmic drip... drip... drip of a dextrose bag. My body was heavy, wrapped in tight layers of bandages. Every inch ached, but I was alive. Again.
"Why… why can't they just let me die?" I whispered into the silence.
The room wasn't a hospital. It looked old, worn, yet peaceful—like one of those traditional Japanese houses I'd only seen on TV. Wooden floors, sliding paper doors, a faint scent of incense. Not sterile. Not cruel. Almost safe.
That's when I saw him.
An old man. Sitting cross-legged in the corner of the room, sipping tea, watching me quietly. His gaze wasn't threatening—but I didn't trust anyone anymore.
My body moved before my mind could think—I fell out of the bed, crawled into the corner, arms up like a scared animal. "Don't come near me!" I screamed.
The old man blinked calmly and said, in a soft, gentle voice, "It's okay, dear. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm only here to help."
No. Lies. I had heard too many of those. My body trembled with the weight of what I'd survived—the government, the betrayal, the blood, the endless torture. My throat choked on a sob.
"Why am I still alive…?" I broke down. "Why won't they just let me die?"
The old man set his cup down, walked over slowly, and knelt a few feet away from me. "Because fate hasn't finished with you yet."
Suddenly, a woman entered. I panicked again. My eyes widened, body tensed, breath caught in my throat.
She stepped forward slowly. I raised my trembling hands to stop her.
"I'm not your enemy," she whispered gently, kneeling down. "I'm so sorry I didn't get to you sooner…"
Her voice cracked. There was sincerity. Warmth.
Still, I couldn't believe her. I shoved her away, tears streaking down my face.
She nodded, understanding my fear, and left without another word.
I was alone again.
"Where am I?" I whispered. "Will anyone ever save me?"
Then something amazing happened. I smelled food.
Delicious food.
My stomach growled—loud and demanding. It had been so long since I had eaten anything other than stale bread or blood. I tried to stand, but my legs were too weak. I reached for the small bell near the bed and rang it, just once.
The old man appeared like magic. And soon after, the woman came with a tray piled high with steaming bowls of rice, soup, meat, and vegetables. I couldn't hold back—I devoured it all like a starving animal.
When I finally paused, the old man chuckled. "You're beautiful, you know. Like a daughter to me."
I looked down, cheeks red. "T-Thank you…"
Then came the words I didn't expect:
"Call me Dad."
I blinked. "W-What?"
"I'd like to adopt you. You're safe here. Stay. Heal. Become strong again."
I hesitated. "I have a family. I need to go back to them."
His warm expression darkened slightly. "If you go back… the government will find you. And they won't stop with you. They'll hurt your family too."
I clenched my fists, heart sinking.
"I'll protect them," he said gently. "All I ask… is that you stay here and live."
I looked up at him, and for the first time in what felt like years, I believed someone.
"…Okay," I whispered.
After a few months I found out that he was Takeshi Sato.
A legendary master. The teacher of the five top heroes in the world. And now… my adopted father.
He taught me everything—how to walk with grace, how to eat with manners, how to breathe like a warrior, how to fight with my soul.
I called him "Master" out of respect.
At first, I only learned the basics of swordsmanship. How to hold it. How to move with it. How to respect it. It was hard. My muscles screamed. My scars burned. But I trained anyway.
Because I refused to be a pawn ever again.
Years passed.
I turned 15.
And by then… I had mastered what usually takes ten years.
Master was proud.
He called me "a prodigy reborn from fire."
He sent me to the Agent's Association—a covert network of independent warriors that dealt in high-stakes missions for world peace.
I aced every mission.
Espionage. Assassinations. Extraction. Defense.
I became the top amateur agent in the entire network.
But eventually… it all became routine. Easy.
So I asked to resign.
That's when they begged me.
One last mission.
Just one.
One final job before I walk away forever.
I almost said no.
But something about the way they said it… the way they looked at me…
Like they knew something I didn't.
so out of curiosity I said yes.