Memories of Leo's Parents

[When Leo returned to his grandfather Arthur's house, he felt a heavy silence surrounding the place. There was no one waiting for him at the door, no sound of the old man's footsteps echoing through the halls. Just a quiet, cold house, missing the warmth that once filled it.]

[He opened the door and stepped inside slowly, his gaze lifting to the old wooden ceiling that had witnessed countless days of laughter and family warmth. But today, it was nothing more than an empty shell, echoing only the sound of his own footsteps.]

"How strange… It's the same house, yet it feels completely different."

[He sighed, then walked toward the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, he felt the cold water against his fingers before it gradually warmed. He stood there for a few moments, letting the water slide over his body.]

[After finishing his shower, he quickly dried his hair and put on some comfortable clothes. Then, he headed to the sink to brush his teeth, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Something was different in his features… Perhaps exhaustion? Or maybe something deeper, though he wasn't sure.]

[Deciding to make himself a cup of tea, hoping it would bring some warmth to the silent atmosphere, he went to the kitchen. He took out an old kettle that his grandfather Arthur always used, filled it with water, and placed it on the stove. The soft sound of water beginning to boil added a fleeting sense of life to the place.]

[As he waited, he wandered around the house, running his fingers over the slightly dusty furniture, inspecting the old photographs hanging on the walls.]

[In one corner, he found a small table cluttered with papers and old letters. He remembered how his grandfather used to sit there for hours, writing something or going over his daily accounts. Arthur always told him:]

"Writing helps me remember the good things, Leo. Memory might betray you, but words never do."

[Leo smiled bitterly, running his fingers over the surface of the table.]

"If you were here now, Grandpa… I would have told you everything that happened today."

[He let out a soft sigh and returned to the kitchen, just as the sound of boiling water grew louder. He quietly prepared his tea, then sat on the couch, sipping it slowly while gazing out the window at the quiet city streets.]

[As Leo enjoyed his tea, relishing the moment of stillness, he heard a faint tapping on the windowpane.]

[He lifted his head slowly, his eyes locking onto a small, speckled brown bird flapping its wings and pecking at the glass as if trying to get inside.]

He furrowed his brows slightly in curiosity. "What are you doing here, little one?"

[Standing up, he walked toward the window and cautiously opened it. The moment he did, the bird darted inside, fluttering chaotically around the room. Leo turned, following its erratic movements in surprise.]

"Hey! This isn't your home!"

[But the bird ignored him, flapping its wings frantically as if searching for something. Then, suddenly, it flew toward a wooden cabinet in the corner.]

[Strangely, one of the cabinet doors creaked open on its own, as if something had pulled it from within. Leo froze in place for a moment, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.]

"That's odd…"

[Moving cautiously, he approached the cabinet and peered inside. The bird had stopped flying and was now fluttering anxiously above a tightly sealed box. The box looked old, covered in a layer of dust, as if it had been buried there for years.]

[Kneeling beside it, Leo reached out toward the bird, which continued flapping nervously over the box.]

"What is it? Why are you so fixated on this box?"

[He gently picked up the bird. It resisted for a moment before finally settling down in his hands. Setting it on a nearby table, he turned his attention back to the box. Running his fingers over its lid, he wiped away some of the dust and attempted to open the lock—but it didn't budge.]

"Sealed tight…"

[He tried again, but to no avail. His heartbeat quickened slightly—not because of the box itself, but because of the strangeness surrounding it. Why was the bird so drawn to it? And why had the cabinet door opened on its own?]

[Sitting on the floor, he took a deep breath, staring at the box with focused determination.]

"Alright… Looks like I'll need another way to open it."

[He lifted his gaze to the bird, which was now watching him with its small, dark eyes, as if waiting for something.]

A slow smile formed on Leo's lips. "Don't worry, I'll figure it out."

Leo searched the house, rummaging through drawers, opening cabinets, and even lifting a few worn-out wooden floorboards. But he couldn't find the key.

He was starting to feel frustrated. How could a small key just disappear like that? After minutes of searching, a thought crossed his mind—to check a place he rarely visited—the old fireplace.

[Cautiously, he reached inside, feeling the rough, cold texture of the bricks. Then, suddenly, his fingers brushed against something small and metallic, buried beneath the old ashes. He pulled it out, examining it under the dim light. A shiver ran down his spine.]

It wasn't just an ordinary key. Intricate carvings covered its surface, barely visible in the faint glow.

[Returning to the box, he inserted the key slowly. A faint clicking sound echoed as the lid unlocked.]

Inside, he found things he had never seen before—an old sealed envelope, a few simple trinkets, a silver necklace with a small gemstone, and a collection of photo albums.

[With trembling hands, he picked up the envelope. It was slightly dusty, but the writing on it remained clear: "To my little Leo, from Mom."]

He swallowed hard, then carefully opened it, pulling out the letter. The ink had faded slightly, but the words were still readable:

"My dear Leo,

Today is your fifth birthday, and I wanted to give you this small gift. I know you are still too young to understand everything, but I wanted you to always have something from me. The necklace I placed here belonged to me when I was a teenager, and now I want you to keep it. When you grow up, I hope you remember that I loved you more than anything in this world.

Stay strong, my little one, and know that my heart will always be with you.

With all my love, Mom."

[A tightness gripped Leo's chest, his breathing growing heavier. He stared at the letter in his hands, his eyes trembling.]

"Mom..."

He tried to recall her face, but all he could grasp were faint details—her long black hair, her gentle white eyes that looked at him with warmth. He struggled to remember her voice, but his memory failed him.

All that remained was a painful emptiness.

[He reached for the necklace in the box, lifted it before his eyes, and examined it in silence. After a few moments, he placed it around his neck, holding onto it tightly. The metal was cold, but the warmth of the memory made it feel like a part of his mother was still with him.]

[He sat there for a while, staring at the letter before closing his eyes, surrendering to his scattered memories.]

Leo sat at the table, the photo album in front of him. His fingers traced the old cover carefully. It looked like it hadn't been opened in years, yet despite the dust gathering along its edges, the pictures inside remained sharp as if waiting to be brought back to life.

[He flipped to the first page, finding pictures of himself as a small child—smiling innocently, running through a park, or sitting in his mother's lap, though he could barely remember her face.]

He turned the pages slowly, pausing at some photos, trying to recall the moments behind them, until he reached a different page...

His father's picture.

[At the center of the page was a large photo of a strong-built man holding little Leo in his arms, smiling at him warmly. His hair was as red as Leo's, his blue eyes shining with confidence. His features felt oddly familiar—like an older version of himself staring back at him.]

Leo ran his fingers over his father's face in the picture and whispered:

"Dad..."

[Something stirred within him, as if his memory was trying to revive the image of the man who had once been his entire world.]

Memories began to surface, one by one.

He remembered how his father used to lift him high into the air, making him laugh with pure joy before setting him on his shoulders, walking him through the city.

"You're my little knight, and knights must see the world from above!"

He remembered his father teaching him how to fish, how he would laugh whenever Leo fell into the water, then pull him out as if he were a precious treasure. He remembered his deep voice telling him stories of knights and legends, always promising that one day, they would have their own adventures together.

[Little Leo stood at the riverbank, his brows furrowed in concentration, trying to cast his fishing line like his father had taught him. He threw it eagerly—but it didn't go far. Instead, it landed close to him, creating gentle ripples in the water.]

His father chuckled, his deep voice filled with warmth. "You need to be gentler, Leo. It's not a battle spear!"

"But I want to catch a big fish like you!" Leo protested, trying again. But this time, he lost his balance and—

[SPLASH.]

[For a moment, there was silence. Then his father burst into laughter before swiftly reaching down to pull him from the water, lifting him with ease as if he had just found a precious treasure at the bottom of the river.]

"Looks like I caught my biggest catch of the day!" he said, his eyes gleaming with a mix of pride and amusement.

Leo coughed a little, then looked at his father with mock annoyance. "That's not funny!"

"Oh, it is very funny!" His father placed him on the ground, ruffling his wet hair playfully. "But don't worry, even the best fishermen fall in sometimes. What matters is that you get back up, right?"

Leo hesitated, then slowly nodded, a small smile creeping onto his face.

[That evening, Leo sat by the fire, wrapped in a warm blanket, while his father turned the fish over the flames, the delicious aroma filling the air.]

"Do you want a bedtime story?" his father asked, smiling knowingly.

"Yes!" Leo's eyes sparkled with excitement.

His father sighed dramatically, as if preparing for a long journey, then began in his deep, storytelling voice:

"Once upon a time, there was a fearless knight... but he carried a secret."

Leo listened in awe, unknowingly inching closer and closer, until he finally leaned against his father's shoulder.

Just before he drifted off to sleep, he heard his father whisper as he gently patted his head:

"One day, Leo, we'll have our own adventures. I promise."

But that day... never came.

[What he remembered most was the feeling of safety he had whenever his father was near. He had been brave and strong, yet in Leo's eyes, he was the kindest man in the world.]

Leo lifted his gaze from the album, a heavy weight pressing on his heart.

"You were amazing, Dad... I wish you were here."

[Leo wiped his eyes, then gently closed the album, resting his hand on it for a moment. He knew these memories wouldn't bring them back, but at least they gave him something to hold onto.

He tightened his necklace around his neck, feeling as if a small part of his parents was still with him, no matter how many years had passed.

Leo kept flipping through the pages of the album until his eyes landed on a particular photo...

It was a bit old, but the faces in it were still clear. A small child—himself—sat at the center of a table decorated with tiny candles, in front of a birthday cake with the number "3" on it. Beside him, his father smiled warmly, while his mother wrapped her arms around him lovingly, her face glowing with pure happiness.

Leo froze in place, his gaze locked onto his mother's features...

His mother...

She was beautiful—one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Her black hair cascaded over her shoulders with a softness unlike anything else, as dark as the night yet strangely radiant. And her eyes... they were completely white, as pure as pearls, giving her an otherworldly aura.

He didn't remember her well, but as he looked at the photo, he felt that old warmth—that irreplaceable feeling...

"Mom..."

He muttered the word, barely audible, then felt a strange tightness in his chest, as if something inside him was breaking.

Memories began to flow back—slowly at first, then all at once...

He remembered how she used to hold him when he cried, how she would whisper soothing words he could no longer recall, but he remembered that her voice was the most beautiful music he had ever heard.

He remembered her scent... the scent of flowers, of home, of love and safety.

He remembered how she laughed whenever he ran to her with open arms, how she lifted him effortlessly, as if he were the lightest thing in the world.

He remembered her singing to him on cold winter nights, tucking him in, and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"You are my little boy, and you will always be the most precious thing to me..."

Leo felt tears burn his eyes, but he didn't wipe them away.

He lifted his hand to the photo, as if he could touch it, as if doing so would bring her back to life.

"You were so beautiful, Mom... You were so kind..."

He ran his fingers over the picture, then pulled it close to his chest, closing his eyes, as if trying to tuck it away in his heart forever.

He knew he couldn't bring her back, but he also realized something else...

She had never truly left him.

Her memories, her love, her voice, her warmth... they were all still alive inside him.

And in that moment, he decided—he wouldn't forget.

No matter what happened, he would carry her memory with him. He would make her proud.

After closing the album, Leo sat still for a moment, staring at the worn leather cover in his hands. Then he took a deep breath and smiled faintly.

"I love you both..." he whispered, as if they could hear him, as if he wanted to ease their souls wherever they were.

At that moment, he noticed the small bird still flying around the room. Leo watched as it made its way to the open window and soared outside, leaving behind an inexplicable sense of freedom and clarity.

Maybe it was time for him, too, to decide what to do next.

He rose from his seat, took a deep breath, and headed to his grandfather Arthur's office. Pulling open a desk drawer, he retrieved a piece of paper and a pen. Sitting down, he held the pen between his fingers, hesitating for a moment. Then, he began to write.]

To Raynel:"To the best hunter, and the greatest bastard in the world... my dear friend."

Leo smirked lightly as he wrote the words, almost able to picture Raynel's reaction as he read them.

"Take care of yourself, and don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I'm heading to my grandfather's farm, but I won't tell you where—just to keep you guessing as usual. I'm leaving my phone behind, but I'll write you letters from time to time."

Leo paused for a moment, then added:

"Thank you for everything."

To Evelyn:

"To my childhood friend, my sister, and the most precious person in my life..."

[He paused for a moment before continuing.]

"Thank you for everything—for your care, your support, for always being by my side. I wish you a happy and successful life. You are an incredible singer with a bright future ahead of you. Don't let anything stand in the way of your dreams."

"Thank you for all the moments we shared, for every laugh, for every time you reminded me I wasn't alone. I'll keep writing to you, so don't stop replying, alright?"

To Lilia, Jonathan, Ellen, and all my colleagues:

"I'm grateful to have worked with each of you. Thank you for everything—the memories, the friendship, the good times, and even the bad ones. I won't forget you, and I'll keep in touch."

[He then wrote a short note specifically for Lilia.]

"Lilia, thank you for always looking out for me. I don't know how I would have handled certain things without your support. I'm sure we'll meet again someday."

[After that, he wrote to Jonathan and Ellen.]

"By the way, you two were never really good at hiding your relationship. Don't forget to invite me to your wedding, or I'll be seriously upset!"

To Uncle Joe and little Jack:

"Uncle Joe, thank you for everything—for your words, your support, and all the times you were more than just a restaurant owner to me."

"Jack, you still haven't told me what you've decided to do, but I'm glad you've found your path. Don't forget to stay in touch."

To Aunt Marianne and Uncle Walter:

"To two of the people I respect the most—my uncle, my aunt."

"I've decided to go to my grandfather's farmhouse. I know you'll worry, but I need this. I'm going to miss you both so much."

[Then, with a small smile, he added another line.]

"Aunt Marianne, please don't forget to send me the cookies you used to bake for me. I still believe they're the best in the world."

"And Uncle Walter, thank you for everything—for your words, for always being there when I needed you."

[At last, he wrote his final words.]

"Goodbye... Live happy lives."

[He set the pen down and stared at the letters before him. Every word he had written carried a piece of himself—a small fragment that tied him to the people he loved.]

[Then, quietly, he began folding the letters one by one, preparing them to be sent...]

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Author Z:

The Goja Mart Arc has come to an end, and now Leo is about to step into a completely new phase of his life! We're moving on to the Stardale Valley Arc, where things will take a different turn.

I hope the past 23 chapters lived up to your expectations! They might have been a bit slow, but they were just an introduction to Leo's dull life and a reminder of how harsh life can be sometimes. In the end, every decision we make shapes our path—whether we stay stuck in place or move forward toward something better.

But life isn't just about choices… Sometimes, we lose people who mean the world to us, and the emptiness they leave behind feels impossible to fill. The pain is real, but it's not the end. Patience is what keeps us going.

"Losing those we love may break us, but it also makes us stronger—if we choose to keep moving forward."

The real story begins now! Stay tuned for what's coming next.