Welcome here

I teleported to my domain with Alia and the teenager.

"Hey, Alia, bring the mattress. Let me lay her down," I said.

"Are you sure? I think he's a boy," she replied.

"I think she's a girl. Now go and bring the mattress—she's injured and needs rest," I insisted.

"Whatever. But what happened inside that place?" she asked.

"You're too young to know," I said dismissively.

"This is the 1,000th time you've said that whenever I question your actions!" she exclaimed, stomping away to fetch the mattress, her cheeks puffed up in frustration.

"Such a kid," I muttered to myself. "I wish I could tell her, but I don't want to destroy her innocent mind by talking about those dirty pupils."

I glanced at the face of the teen in my arms, studying her features. As I continued to watch her, Alia returned with the mattress.

I gently laid the teen down and covered her with a blanket. Sitting nearby, I waited patiently for her to wakeup.

Two hours later, by the time I had finished preparing the soup, the teen finally woke up.

I turned to Alia and said, "Go welcome her and give her some clothes. Let her know she can take a bath if she wants."

"So, Miss, I'm Alia, and that's Zira. We helped you," Alia said cheerfully. "She asked me to tell you that you should take a bath and put on some new clothes."

"Hmmm… what is this place?" the teen asked, her voice hesitant.

"It's her domain. She brought you here and wants to help, so go get washed up," Alia replied with a smile.

"Ah, I see… so where's the bath?" the teen asked quietly.

"Behind the curtain. We made it there," Alia explained. "I'll bring your clothes when you call, okay?"

The teen nodded reluctantly and headed behind the curtain to wash up.

Alia handed the clothes to the teen.

"I don't know your undergarment size, but I brought what I thought would fit," she said casually.

The teen's face turned bright red. "Hey… sorry, but I'm a boy and don't need that!" he stammered, blushing furiously as he tossed the bra back toward her.

"Oh, so I was right, Apiii! He is a boy, not a girl!" Alia shouted triumphantly, her voice echoing through the room.

The boy changed into the clothes Alia had given him—a tank top, baggy jeans, and a jacket. Following Alia's instructions, he made his way back to the mattress, his steps hesitant but obedient.

On the other side, when I heard about it, confusion overwhelmed me. I had promised to help him—he was a victim, and I had to keep my word. But the flashbacks of my bad experiences with men resurfaced, making me hesitate. I didn't want to go near any male, yet I couldn't let him suffer.

I felt a panic attack creeping in, my breathing unsteady. Then, I remembered the times I was alone, with no one to reassure me, no one to tell me it was okay—that it wasn't my fault.

Drawing on that memory, I found a sliver of courage. Not every man is bad, I reminded myself. If I was a victim, so is he. That thought gave me the strength to push through.

I put on a smile and walked toward him. He was still trembling, likely haunted by that horrible memory. He was sitting on the mattress, his posture tense. I approached slowly, holding a medical kit in my hand.

"Let me clean your wound. Please remove your jacket," I said softly.

He looked up, startled, then nodded. "Oh... okay, thank you."

I carefully applied ointment to his wound and wrapped it with a bandage, making sure to be gentle.

"You know, if you want to cry or need a shoulder, I'm here," I said, trying to offer some comfort. "I mean, I know what you're going through in your mind, and... damn, I'm bad at communicating." I chuckled nervously, feeling a bit awkward.

He was quiet. I wanted to assure him that it was okay, but I didn't know how to.

"I want to be here for you in whatever way you're comfortable with. If you ever want a hug or anything, just tell me, okay?" I said gently.

He was reluctant but nodded a little. I gave him a hug.

"It's okay. Everything's going to be alright," I whispered.