Chương 3: A New Beginning.
The morning light seeped through the cracks in the wooden walls, casting long shadows across the room. The boy slowly stirred, wrapped tightly in a blanket. His body felt heavy, as though he had been asleep for days. His eyes fluttered open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings, beams, an earthen floor, and the faint scent of burning wood.
He tried to sit up, but his muscles protested, weak from exhaustion. The last thing he remembered was collapsing in the forest, swallowed by the cold and darkness. Now he was here. Before he could make sense of his surroundings, the creaking of the door caught his attention.
Ceng-tae entered the room, carrying a tray with a bowl of hot soup and bread. His long black hair flowed down his back, and faint scars traced his face and arms. His dark eyes, tinted with a faint red hue, studied the boy with a calm but intense gaze.
"You're awake." Ceng-tae's voice was calm and deep, almost soothing, though there was an air of authority in his tone. He placed the tray beside the boy and sat on the edge of the bed, observing him closely. "Do you know who you are? Where you're from?"
The boy's brow furrowed as he tried to process the question. The words should have made sense, but they felt distant. "Who… am I?" He searched his mind for an answer, but all he found was an unsettling emptiness. Slowly, he shook his head.
Ceng-tae sighed, his expression softening. "You don't remember anything?"
The boy's voice was weak, barely more than a whisper. "N-No…"
"No memory, no name." Ceng-tae muttered under his breath, glancing toward the window. He stood and motioned for the boy to follow, "Come with me. We'll get you cleaned up."
Outside, the crisp air greeted them, the faint whistle of wind moving through the snow-covered trees. A layer of fresh snow crunched beneath their feet as they approached a small wash area. The bit hesitated, unsure, but Ceng-tae's steady presence was reassuring.
The cool water helped wash away the grime that clung to his skin, revealing his medium tan complexion beneath.
"You've been through a lot," Ceng-tae murmured as he washed the boy's hands and face. "But not knowing who you are... that's a heavy burden." His voice carried a note of understanding as though he had known similar struggles.
The boy stared at the ground, his hands trembling. "I... I don't know anything. It's all just... gone."
Ceng-raw nodded, his expression thoughtful. "That may be true, but it's not the end. You're alive, and that's what matters now. You have a chance to start over."
He picked up a pair of shears and trimmed the boy's long, messy hair. The boy remained silent. His eyes closed, and the tension left his body with every snip of scissors. The sensation was oddly comforting, as though with each lock of hair that fell away, a bit of the confusion and fear left with it.
As Ceng-tae worked, the boy's hair was gradually shaped into something neater. He left bangs just brushing the boy's eyes while the rest was tied into a loose bun. As he neared the end of the cut, Ceng-tae noticed something: a blonde streak hidden beneath the black strands.
"Interesting…" Ceng-tae mused quietly, tilting his head as he studied the steak. "You've got a mark of distinction."
The boy blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"
Ceng-tae stepped back, admiring his work with a slight nod. "A blonde streak in the front of your hair." He'd pause, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Well, either way, you look more like yourself now."
The boy reached up, running his fingers through his freshly cut hair. The soft strands felt foreign but clean—a small but important change. Then Ceng-tae's words sank in. "But, who am I?" He frowned slightly, his voice quiet. "I don't even know my name."
Ceng-tae considered for a moment, his gaze drifting towards the snow-covered trees. "Kiyoshi," he said after a moment. "It means 'pure.' I think it suits you."
"Kiyoshi…" the boy repeated the name softly, letting the sound roll off his tongue. It felt strange yet comforting.
Ceng-tae smiled, a rare, almost imperceptible curve on his lips. "It may not be your true name, but it's yours now. And a name is a good place to start."
Kiyoshi glanced up at Ceng-tae, a flicker of hope breaking through the uncertainty in his eyes. He still didn't know who he was or why he had lost his memories, but for the first time since waking up, he felt like he had something to hold onto. A name-Kiyoshi. It was a small beginning, but it was a beginning nonetheless.
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