Hiyori had reached her breaking point. The whispers, the accusations, the cold indifference of the adults around her—it was too much. Late one night, as the rest of the facility fell into uneasy sleep, she made her decision.
She slipped out of her cot, careful not to wake the other children. Her heart raced as she crept down the dimly lit halls, her small frame moving silently through the shadows. When she reached the back door, she hesitated for only a moment before slipping out into the cold night.
For the first time in weeks, she felt a glimmer of freedom. The air outside was fresh, carrying the faint scent of damp earth. But Hiyori had no plan, no destination. She just needed to get away.
The streets were unforgiving to a child alone. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, and exhaustion weighed heavily on her small frame. Days turned into a blur as she wandered aimlessly, clutching scraps of food she scavenged from trash bins.
Her escape, however, did not go unnoticed. A man approached her one evening, his smile too wide, his tone too kind. "Hey, little one. Are you lost? Do you need help?"
Desperation clouded Hiyori's judgment. She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't have anywhere to go."
The man's expression softened, his hand reaching out. "Come with me. I know people who can help."
But the help he promised was a lie.
Hiyori found herself trapped once more, but this time, the walls weren't cold concrete—they were invisible chains of control. The man had taken her to a hidden operation trafficking children. She wasn't alone; there were others, faces filled with the same fear and confusion she felt.
Her days were spent in silence, her nights filled with the sound of muffled sobs. The traffickers spoke in a language she didn't understand, their voices sharp and commanding. She quickly learned the rules: obey or suffer.
But Hiyori's spirit, though battered, refused to break entirely. She watched, waited, and searched for an opportunity to escape. That opportunity came during a transfer, when the group was smuggled across borders into another country.
The chaos of the move gave her a chance. As the van slowed at a checkpoint, Hiyori made her move, slipping out through a gap in the door while the guards were distracted. Her heart thundered in her chest as she ran, ignoring the shouts behind her.
She didn't know where she was or where to go, but she didn't stop until her legs gave out. Collapsing in an alley, she curled up behind a stack of crates, her body trembling from exhaustion and fear.
When Hiyori woke, the sun was high in the sky, its warmth a stark contrast to the cold grip of her reality. Hunger clawed at her insides, but she didn't have the strength to move.
It was then that she heard a voice—a boy's voice, soft but curious. "Hey… are you okay?"
Hiyori blinked, her vision blurry. A teenage boy knelt in front of her, his face partially obscured by the sunlight behind him. He looked about fourteen or fifteen, with kind eyes and a worried expression.
"You look hungry," he said, holding out a piece of bread.
She stared at it, hesitant. But her hunger won out, and she reached for the food with trembling hands. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice hoarse.
The boy sat beside her, watching as she devoured the bread. He didn't ask questions, didn't pry. When she finished, he handed her a water bottle, which she drank gratefully.
"My parents are leaving soon," he said after a while. "I'll get them to help you."
Hiyori stiffened at the mention of adults, her body tensing. "No," she whispered. "I can't… I can't go back."
The boy frowned, but before he could respond, a woman's voice called from nearby. "Ansh! We're leaving in five minutes!"
"I'll be there!" he shouted back before turning to Hiyori again. "Stay here, okay? I'll be back."
True to his word, he returned moments later with his parents in tow. They looked at Hiyori with concern but didn't press her for details. "We'll take you somewhere safe," the woman said gently.
Hiyori hesitated, but the boy—Ansh—offered her a reassuring smile. "It'll be okay," he said.
As they walked away from the alley, Hiyori felt a strange sense of familiarity in his presence, though she couldn't explain why.
Ansh's family was heading home, to a country Hiyori didn't know. But for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn't feel entirely alone.
Little did she know, this was only the beginning of a connection that spanned lifetimes.