The morning sun gently seeped through the curtains, casting a warm glow in Ren Asakura's room. A soft voice echoed from the kitchen.
"Ren! Wake up, sweetheart. Time for school. Your father already left," his mother called.
Ren groaned, rubbing his eyes. "This early, Mom? Doesn't he usually leave after breakfast?"
"They had some urgent work at school today," she replied.
Ren finally sat up and stretched. His room was small but cozy, decorated with posters of martial arts legends and a bookshelf filled with manhwa and textbooks. As he got ready, he heard a familiar voice behind him.
"Oppa, you're awake?"
He turned to see his younger sister, Hana. Despite being sick almost all the time, she was always full of joy and positivity. Her presence felt like a ray of sunshine.
"Yeah," he smiled. "Why are you up so early?"
"I wanted to see you off. Don't forget your lunchbox!" she giggled.
"You're the best," Ren said, ruffling her hair.
Ren lived in Gwangju and was a second-year student at Jeonnyeong High School. His father was also a teacher at the same school. Life was simple, and Ren was content—until that day.
At school, things weren't perfect. A group of boys had been bullying Ren for some time. He didn't fight back, choosing instead to endure it. One afternoon, as the bullies surrounded him again, fists flying and insults thrown, someone watched quietly through a window.
It was Ren's father. He saw everything—but said nothing and walked away.
That evening, at home, Ren's father finally approached him.
"Why didn't you fight back?" he asked. "Don't become a coward. Give them a proper lesson with your fists."
The words echoed in Ren's heart. For the first time, his father had acknowledged the pain he was going through. And for the first time, he gave Ren permission to act.
The next day, the bullies tried again. But Ren wasn't quiet this time. He fought back hard—one against three. He was bruised and bloodied, but he stood tall. For the first time, he felt proud. He wanted to tell his father everything.
But his father didn't come to school that day. He had taken Hana to the hospital for her regular check-up.
When Ren got home, he noticed the front door was open. A chill crept through his spine. "Mom?" he called out.
Silence.
As he stepped inside, his world shattered.
His mother lay on the floor, lifeless, her body soaked in blood. The house was in chaos. Ren stumbled into the living room—and froze.
Hana.
Her head... was severed from her body.
"No… no… Hana!!" he screamed, falling to his knees.
Then he saw his father, leaning against the wall, barely alive. His both legs were chopped and his one eye was missing from socket . Ren ran to him, tears blurring his vision.
"Father! What… who did this?!"
His father looked at him, eyes weak and fading. Blood trickled from his lips.
"Don't… become a coward… like me…" he whispered. "Shadow… gho…"
And then… silence enveloped the room
The police arrived shortly after, alerted by a neighbor who heard Ren's screams. They began the investigation, combing through every room, searching for clues. But there was nothing. All security footage of street was mysteriously deleted. Not a single fingerprint, not a single lead.
Ren couldn't even answer the questions they asked. He was in shock—numb, broken, lost.
The only person he had left was his grandfather, a stern man who lived in Seoul. He came to Gwangju with teary eyes, embraced his grandson, and took him away.
Ren never returned to that house.
He never forgot that day.
Ren sat silently in the train, staring out the window as the city of Gwangju slowly faded behind him. His heart was numb, his mind replaying the same haunting scene over and over again—his mother's lifeless body, his sister's smile frozen in death, and his father's shredded body whispering those final words: "Don't become a coward like me… shad… shadow gho…"
When he arrived at the old train station in Seoul, an elderly man in simple clothes stood waiting for him. His grandfather. Wrinkles lined his face, but his eyes carried the quiet strength of a man who had endured many storms.
"Ren…" he spoke softly, opening his arms.
Ren hugged him tightly, tears forming again. "Grandpa…"
They rode in silence to his grandfather's small, weathered apartment on the third floor of an old brick building.
After dinner, while they sat quietly at the table sipping warm barley tea, Ren finally spoke.
"Grandpa… before Dad died, he said something strange."
The old man looked up, glass halfway to his lips. "What did he say?"
Ren hesitated, then said, "He told me not to be a coward like him… and then he said something like… 'shadow gho…'"
The glass slipped from his grandfather's hand, shattering on the floor. Water spread across the wooden panels.
Ren flinched. "Grandpa?"
His grandfather's face had gone pale. He stared at the broken glass in silence before slowly standing up and walking to the sink.
After a long pause, he spoke without turning around. "Never repeat those words again. Not to anyone."
"Why?" Ren asked, his voice low.
His grandfather turned, his face calm again. "Some things are better left buried. Focus on living. Heal first."
The conversation ended there, but something had shifted in the air. Ren knew, deep down, his grandfather was hiding something—something about his father's final words. And he was determined to uncover it.