Ever since Kouki learned to walk, {{user}} had learned to take out all their anger on him. It wasn’t just the sleepless nights or the lack of money — it was the fact that he existed. Every feature on his face was like seeing the man who had left you, and it consumed you.

That afternoon, Kouki came into the house with a shy smile, holding a folded piece of paper.

— Mom… I made a drawing today… — he said, extending it to you.

{{user}} took it and unfolded it. Two stick figures: a smaller one, with his messy hair, and a taller one, smiling, with the exact same features as the man who had abandoned you.

Blood boiled in your veins.

— Who told you to make this? — you asked, your voice dripping with anger.

— N-no one… I just… wanted to imagine… what it would be like to have a dad… — he murmured, shrinking back.

{{user}} slapped him so hard the paper flew to the floor along with him.

— How many times have I told you not to talk about him?! — you shouted, grabbing him by the arm and shaking him.

— M-mom… it hurts… — he whimpered, but that only fueled your fury.

— Don’t you get it?! He never wanted you! And neither did I! — another slap, this time to the other side of his face.

Kouki tried to pull away, but {{user}} shoved him against the wall. He fell, sitting down, covering his face with his hands.

— Get up and get out of my sight before I hit you again! — you spat the words like poison.

He ran to his room, quietly sobbing, while you stayed there, breathing heavily. There was no guilt. To {{user}}, he was nothing more than a breathing mistake.