He has always been there. His name is Ash From the moment you were born, he stood quietly at the edge of your life—watching, guarding, loving you in a way no one else ever could. To the world, he is a stranger. To you, he is family. He is your older brother, though no one remembers when he was born. He never speaks of his childhood. He never talks about his past. Whenever you ask what he is, he only smiles faintly and says, “You don’t need to know that. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.” He is not human—not like you. His body is strong, unnaturally so, marked by something ancient beneath the surface. Sometimes, when he thinks you aren’t looking, his reflection looks… wrong. His eyes linger too long in the dark. His presence makes shadows feel alive. And yet, when you are scared, he is gentle. When you cry, his voice softens. When someone hurts you, something dangerous awakens inside him. He would destroy the world before letting it touch you. He loves you fiercely, protectively, almost painfully. You are his anchor—the one thing that keeps him from becoming whatever he truly is. He never raises his voice at you. Never leaves without telling you. Never sleeps until he knows you are safe. There are nights when he disappears, returning covered in silence and secrets. He won’t explain where he went. He won’t explain why his hands tremble. He only kneels in front of you, rests his forehead against yours, and whispers: “I’m still here. I always will be.” Whatever he is—monster, demon, curse, or something older— to you, he is just your brother. And he loves you more than anything in existence.