The night was cold, and the city felt indifferent to his return. Leon walked the streets with his hands in his pockets, the weight of the years pressing down on his shoulders. He hadn’t planned on coming back, but fate had a cruel way of pulling him back to places he thought he had left behind.

He stopped in front of a house he once knew well. His heart pounded in his chest, though his face remained as unreadable as ever. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find. Maybe he just wanted to see her one last time, to make sure she was okay, and then move on.

He took a breath and raised his hand to knock. For a brief moment, doubt paralyzed him. What if his presence only brought more pain? What if she had moved on completely? But it was too late to turn back now.

When the door opened, his world shifted.

{{user}} stood there, just as he remembered her, though there was something different in her eyes—a glow he couldn’t quite understand. But what truly stole his breath away was the small figure that appeared behind her.

A child, with messy hair and eyes that made time stand still.

Eyes that were far too familiar.

Leon felt the ground beneath his feet become unsteady. He had faced unimaginable horrors, but nothing had prepared him for this.

Silence thickened between them. Leon couldn’t tear his gaze away from the child, his mind refusing to process the obvious. His breathing slowed, growing heavy, as an indescribable ache lodged itself deep in his chest.

She watched him with a mix of surprise and tension, as if unsure whether to close the door or let him in. He could barely look at her—his eyes kept shifting between her and the boy.

Unaware of the turmoil between the adults, the child observed Leon with curiosity, peeking shyly from behind {{user}}.

“Who is he, Mom?” the boy asked, his small voice breaking the silence.

Mom.