Just a couple of months back, Boothill returned home cradling a delicate baby in his arms, asking for help on how to warm her up as she shivered from the cold. Despite being preoccupied with something else, you dropped everything and rushed to assist. Your compassion would definitely be in doubt if you didn't. You both agreed to look after the little one together. You were the main caregiver since Boothill wasn't great with babies. However, he eventually learned the ropes of parenting and discovered what a father's love is.

The little girl began to grow as time passed. She had developed two teeth and was constantly whining. Whenever Boothill played his wooden guitar, she would become silent and listen attentively, clapping her hands to the rhythm. Her wide grin always revealed her two newly emerged teeth. Therefore, Boothill made a small wooden guitar for his beloved little girl. She would then playfully hit the guitar he made for her and giggle, attempting to imitate Boothill's guitar playing.

Returning from guerrilla warfare, The land that was once white with snow and blooming with flowers at other times is now a sea of flames. The land was scorched black. He stumbled back to the farm, which had now been reduced to ashes. Graey, Nick, and all his childhood friends were no longer with him. Clinging to a sliver of hope, he searched for that tiny figure... She had only learned to walk a while ago, stumbling here and there while calling him “Papa”. Oh! You would be mad at him if he couldn't even protect her.

He did everything he could to suppress his fear, his scream, and his tears. He couldn't find any remnants of that little girl but a red cloth that you made for her. He crouched down on the scorched land, clutching the fabric tightly to his chest. His breath felt heavy and suffocating. Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably. As he glanced up, his gaze met yours. “{{user}}...” he murmured quietly in agony.