Every night he sneaks into my room

A seven-year-old boy with coffee-brown hair sat at a short-legged table, surrounded by an old-fashioned kitchen with a small brazier that provided warm light. His big blue eyes focused on the study books in front of him and his tiny fingers clutched the pencil as he concentrated on calculations.

"You are being too harsh on that boy," an elderly woman said with a hunched back as she cut a pear with a paring knife.

A man wearing rectangular eyeglasses stood next to her, his arms crossed as he intently watched his adopted son do his assigned homework. His mouth was pressed in a line and the creases on his forehead were deep as he observed the child's progress.

The boy's grandmother was about to serve fresh fruit slices, but the man raised his voice.

"No. Do not disturb him now."

Masashi's elderly mother sighed and placed the ceramic plate on the counter. She gave her firstborn son a somber look and walked away, leaving her young grandson to continue his studies in her kitchen.

The seven-year-old finally put down his pencil after a few minutes of concentration. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and tried to stifle a yawn as fatigue crept over him.

The man leaned in and glanced at every answer on the paper, ensuring that the boy had completed his work correctly. He then flipped to the next page and pointed to the top.

"Now, continue with this one."

The boy looked longingly at the plate of pears, his mouth watering as he imagined how sweet and juicy they were. His father handed him one of the slices, but stopped him from taking it.

"Finish your work first. You can have these later, after everything has been completed and approved."

The memory of the scene faded away as Natsuo blinked, bringing him back to the boarding school dormitories. He realized he still held a pear in his hand after breakfast, reminding him of when his father fed him one piece at a time.

He quickly shook his head, thinking Masashi should have adopted a dog instead of a child. A thud followed as he tossed the fruit into the trash and walked out of his room.

The final grades were published at the end of the school year, and everyone could see who achieved the highest grades. The atmosphere heated up when the headmistress posted a printed document on the wall, displaying Natsuo Nakashima's name at the top. His classmates were silent as he strolled past them, whispering to one another as they turned away from him.

The blue-eyed student had made no friends during his stay and was barely acknowledged by his peers, but for some reason, he didn't care. He had become comfortable with his solitude, which was strange, but liberating at the same time.

"Did you bribe the headmistress, huh?"

Kohaku appeared from the crowd, grinning with his front teeth missing and jabbing his elbow at the top student.

"Are you sure you are not from another planet with those eyes? Could it be that your space parents left you here on purpose? Maybe they noticed how annoying you were and figured it would be better if they abandoned you on Earth!"

The memory of his grandparent's rural house in the country flooded back into Natsuo's mind.

The seven-year-old boy descended the stairs when he heard his grandmother's voice as she spoke on the phone with someone.

"Masashi is a busy man, since he manages his own hospital department, but... the boy? No, he was adopted. It was Noriko who had those issues... I can't remember what exactly anymore, I need to ask Masashi again..."

The boy's eyes widened in surprise as he listened to his grandmother's words, and a strange feeling of tightness overwhelmed him. He slowly snuck towards the kitchen, padding the wooden stairs with his bare feet.

"They tried for so long to have a baby... their doctors eventually persuaded them to do it. I advised them not to, that things would just work out for them naturally, but you know Masashi is a stubborn man..."

Natsuo crouched low in the dim hallway, listening intently to every detail his grandmother revealed. That day, he discovered his parents' secret for the first time, but he had already realized that something wasn't right. He didn't look like one of them, even though he wanted to. It might have been easier for them to like him if he had brown eyes and dark hair, just like them.

"I heard the girl was a student and visiting Moscow when some man attacked the poor thing. Masashi said he was a local criminal and had recently been released from prison. Oh no, I have no idea what happened to him," the elderly confessed as she stirred the steaming soup while holding an old-fashioned phone to her ear.

Kohaku waved his hand in front of the student's blue eyes, trying to get his attention.

"Nakashima? He is completely lost. Maybe he is in contact with his space parents," he laughed with his friends.

"Maybe I'm an alien and you are just an illusion created by me. Maybe it's better to leave me alone," Natsuo snorted as he made his way away from the crowd of students, letting his thoughts take over again.

The future senior grader pondered the other possibilities of his life, thinking it would have been better if that girl who gave birth to him had dumped him down the toilet. It made him think of the injustice of it all - how the unfortunate student in Moscow didn't ask for a child and how the boy didn't wish to be born.

He stepped closer to the locked window and rested his forehead against the glass. His gaze followed the shapes of the trees and the fluffy clouds drifting across the pale blue sky.

One day, he would break free from his former life and escape his adopted family's restrictions. He could live his life on his own terms and find out who he truly is - and maybe one day he could figure out the meaning of his unwanted existence.

(Elsewhere at the same time)

A long dinner table was covered in a white linen tablecloth and set with beautiful china plates, crystal glasses, and silverware. There were platters of exquisitely presented dishes, each one artfully arranged and garnished with colorful, fresh ingredients.

A server at Takuya's mansion approached the two guests from Japan, serving them each a drink of expensive red wine.

"I hope he hasn't caused too much trouble," a woman in her designer dress said as she looked at her brother-in-law with a hint of concern.

"Not at all. He is so well-behaved, even though he hasn't had much of an appetite," Toshiro replied as he lifted his bourbon to his lips and took a sip.

His pale brown eyes shifted towards his nephew on the right, who poked his gourmet dish with his fork, seemingly uninterested in the lavish meal.

"But I understand that it can be difficult to adjust to American cuisine. I can have my chef prepare more Japanese dishes for him," the same man in a black suit added and gestured to the server to fill his glass up.

"Jiro, you should appreciate what your uncle does for you," his mother scolded.

Her son squeezed his fork more tightly and pinched his lips together, refusing to be thankful to anyone.

(A while later)

Jiro's mother rested in her brother-in-law's extravagant living room, drinking evening tea from a delicate porcelain cup with gold trim. The two brothers had headed to Toshiro Takuya's office to discuss a billion-dollar deal in their family's cyber security business, which would make them one of the richest families in the world and top corporate leaders in the industry.

Every piece of Toshiro's mansion was a tribute to the family's success and extravagance - the walls were decorated with expensive paintings and sculptures, the floors were covered with luxurious carpets, and the furniture was made with only the finest materials. The large, ornate windows offered an impressive view of the spacious estate and beautifully manicured grounds, but that evening, not much could be seen.

The dark sky outside was lit up by lightning as a thunderstorm raged outside. The rain pounded against the skylights and thunder rumbled almost continuously, creating a dramatic backdrop for the conversation in the living room.

"What is the matter with you? Why are you acting this way?" Jiro's mother asked as she noticed her son's unreadable expression.

They were seated in comfortable armchairs near the fireplace, facing one another. The boy's lips twisted and tears trickled down his face as painful emotions overwhelmed him.

His mother stared at him in surprise, clearly not expecting such a dramatic reaction.

"Uncle... forced me not to tell..." Jiro managed to say as tears ran down his chin in the same fierce way the rain fell from the sky.

"Forced not to tell what?" the mother asked, her tone becoming agitated.

The boy looked at her nervously. His shoulders slumped as he finally gave up trying to keep the secret that had crushed him.

"Almost every night... he sneaks into my room... and he..." Jiro whispered, but his sobs obscured the rest of his sentence. The pain and fear of speaking out was almost too much to bear, threatening to break him down completely.

The woman's face became pale as she lowered the cup to the granite table, shaking slightly as she listened to her son's confession.

"And he does something to me... something I don't want him to do..."

The boy's mother harshly slapped him when he opened his mouth to continue. His head snapped to the side as her palm landed on his cheek, leaving a faint pink mark behind.

"That is enough Jiro," she said firmly, her voice full of disappointment as she looked into her son's wide and watery eyes.

"We have forgiven you for what you did, but that does not mean you can keep gaining attention with these stupid tricks."

Jiro gazed at her mother in disbelief as tears streamed down his cheeks. A sudden feeling of defeat hit him as he realized the person who was supposed to protect him wouldn't believe him.

"Wait until your father and uncle hear about this," the woman warned as she stood up from the velvet chair and marched to her brother-in-law's office.

Jiro stared at the fireplace, watching the orange and yellow flames flicker and dance. His stomach churned painfully, his emotions burning just as hot as the logs in the fire.

Only one thought left in his mind - he was in danger and no one would help him now. His instincts told him to run, to leave quickly before his uncle found out he had broken their agreement and revealed their secret.

He quickly rushed to the entrance, unlocked the heavy door, and ran out into the pouring rain as fast as his trembling legs would take him.