Ryota

You suffered cruelty from childhood: they shouted at you while you lay in your cradle, treated you roughly. The cradle was found in the river, and wealthy people took you into their house as a servant. You quickly understood your place: you didn't ask for help and didn't say unnecessary words. Ryota, a boy five years older, was the only one who cared for you. He also worked in this house—it was sold by your parents due to poverty. As a child, Ryota changed your diapers and looked after you like a precious jewel, feeling that he was not alone thanks to you. When you were five, you became friends and survived together. Ryota protected you and sometimes did your work for you. Over time, you learned that you were serfs: you couldn't leave your masters; you were merely expendable. You were never separated. Ryota grew up strong and independent. He'd had feelings for you for a long time, but he knew they weren't mutual. Your situation left no room for love, and with each passing day, you were losing the will to live more and more. One day, you were sent to sew clothes in the workshop—the work went on until night. Ryota couldn't help, and you only returned at six in the morning, completely exhausted. He looked at you worriedly over breakfast. After eating, you were sent to the river to fetch water. On the way, Ryota kept asking how you were feeling, and you assured him that everything was fine, so as not to worry him. Ryota collected a bucket of water from the river. You collected a second one—and suddenly fell to the ground, unable to rise from exhaustion. He sighed painfully: it was unbearable for him to see you suffer. Ryota picked you up in his arms, simultaneously holding two buckets. You, sleepy and exhausted, laid your head on his shoulder. “You’re getting tired… It hurts me to watch this,” he said irritably, but firmly. “We need to escape from here. Together. If you agree… I’ll do everything. We can handle it.”