Darkness.

She was small again—too small.
Sitting on a cold floor, knees pulled tight to her chest, while strange men in unfamiliar uniforms stood in a circle around her. Their shadows swallowed the room. She was crying. Her tiny body trembled.

Then—
pain.

A sharp slice burned across her chin, the memory replaying as if it were happening again.

Her father’s voice thundered through the darkness, urgent and afraid.

“We have to get out of here!”

The scene fractured.

Suddenly, she was laughing.

Running freely under warm light. Her brothers wrestled nearby, their laughter loud and careless. Her mother’s wooden hand gently stroked her cheek, warm despite everything. Her father smiled down at her, eyes full of light.

“So tell me, birthday girl… what do you want as your present?”

Light.
Warmth.
Safety.

Then everything shattered.

Little Emily stood frozen, staring at the doll in her hands.

Half of its face was melted.
Its dress was torn.
Soaked in blood.

A relative stood before her, speaking casually—carelessly—as if nothing mattered.

“He probably bought that before his accident. The police found it in the car. Keep it if you want.”

Her world collapsed.

That wasn’t a toy anymore.

It was her father’s blood.

Her breath broke into sobs. Fear carved itself into her skin—and that was when the first black crack appeared, spreading slowly along her left hand.

“I don’t remember what happened after that… or where the doll went. But that was the first time my hand cracked.”

After my father’s death… everything changed.

Our clan abandoned us.
Neighbors turned their backs.
And the owner of the house crushed what was left of our reality.

Mother: “Please… give us some time. We’ll find another place. Just don’t throw us out yet.”

Man: “I’m sorry. This house isn’t a charity. If you want to stay, find work and pay like everyone else. Though frankly—I doubt anyone will hire you.”

His eyes lingered on her wooden arm.

Emily watched her mother shrink under the weight of that look.

All we had left was a small government allowance… and a tiny, miserable house to hide in.

My mother—who I always saw as a beautiful woman—suddenly aged.

She worked endlessly. Desperately.
But..Every door closed the moment people noticed her prosthetic hand.

Mother: 

“…It’s okay. I’ll think of something else. I’ll find another way.”

Meanwhile… Elex spiraled.

Her reckless brother—the one who laughed too loud—was consumed by money, nights out, and everything self-destructive.

And Emily… just watched her family fall apart.

She cried into her mother’s chest, bruises blooming across her cheeks. In the other room, Elex raged—smashing furniture, screaming about money, cursing their fate.

Meanwhile, Russell shut himself away from the world. Alone in his room, the quiet brother sat slumped in silence, crippled by the weight of his disability… and helplessness.My mother never stopped fighting for us.

Determined not to break, Emily’s mother began sewing clothes, pouring her skill and heart into every stitch.

 Emily helped whenever she could, and they celebrated every tiny success like a miracle.

Mother:

“We sold many pieces today!”

Little Emily: 

“Next time we’ll sell even more!”

For a while… hope flickered.

But Then the truth cut deep.

People weren’t buying because her mother was talented… they were buying out of pity. Because she was a disabled woman with a kid. The realization shattered her pride.

Yet fate granted one blessing. A sewing center finally accepted her. She worked hard… and for the first time in a long while, she could afford new school supplies and clothes for me.

That night, the house glowed with rare happiness.

Mother: 

“Tomorrow is your first day back after the long vacation. Are you ready?”

Emily (beaming): 

“Yes!!!”

I wanted to laugh again.
To talk with friends.
To be normal.

But the next morning… the world she hoped for no longer existed.

Whispers followed her through the halls. Smiles turned sharp.

Girl 1: “Did you hear? They kicked her out of their house.”

Girl 2: “Her father died… and her clan abandoned them.”

Girl 3: “What clan?”

Girl 2: “Her name ends with Elma-Troy.”

Girl 1: “No way… the Troy clan?! What is she doing here?”

And just like that…

She was filth.
A bug to avoid.
A rumor with legs.

Friends vanished. Others became predators.

Emily fought back as girls surrounded her—hitting, mocking, clawing.

“Hey Elma-Troy! Why are you at our school? Go back to your clan’s school, coward! You and your traitor family don’t belong here!”

I didn’t understand why everyone changed the moment my father died…

 until I realized: no one knew I belonged to the Elma-Troy clan before.

 His death exposed everything.

At home, her mother waited with hope in her eyes.

Mother: 

“Did your friends like the outfit I made?”

Emily smiled—and lied.

 “Yes. Everyone loved it.”

Days passed.

And the bullying only worsened.

Her lunch was ripped from her hands.

Her schoolbag was thrown out of windows.

Her belongings were scattered in the dirt.

Every day became a battle.

Until one afternoon, she saw a poster outside the school gym.

JOIN THE MARTIAL ARTS TEAM – TOURNAMENT TRAINING

Emily stared at it. For the first time… something sparked.

I decided to fight back!.

Inside the dojo, dozens of students stood together while the coach spoke loudly.

Coach:

 “Listen up! Because of the large number of participants. We’ll train together for two months. Then Only the best will represent our school in the tournament. Give it everything you’ve got!”

Everyone:

 “Aah!!!”

Emily tightened her fists.

I was determined to learn how to fight…

 to get stronger…

 to finally defend myself.

 And it worked!.

Emily stood face-to-face with Elex, but this time things were different.
When he lunged forward, she moved first—kicking his leg hard enough to knock him off balance, then slamming her fist across his face.

For the first time ever… she hit him back!.

Her mother froze in shock.

Emily stared at her own fist in disbelief.

But Elex roared with rage and charged at her again, fists swinging.

 Emily tightened her jaw and kept fighting.

No matter how many times I was hit…

 I only wanted one thing—

to hit back at least once.

 To stop being weak.

And little by little… 

she changed.

She stopped being prey.

The bullies who once tormented her now ran from her, terrified of the furious, unbreakable Emily who refused to kneel anymore.

At practice, she and the other younger girls faced another challenge: a group of older senior fighters blocked their path with mocking smirks.

Senior girls:

 “Step aside, kids. No matter how hard you try, you’ll never beat the seniors. You’re the weakest. Don’t embarrass yourselves.”

The younger girls shifted nervously.

Except Emily.

She stood tall. Silent. Unshaken.

Her confidence irritated them.

Senior Girl:

 “What’s with this little brat? Show some respect when your superiors are talking.”

Emily slowly raised her hand… flipped her finger downward into a crooked 7-shape.

Emily: 

“You’re going down.”

Suddenly a girl popped up beside her, matching the pose with an L-shaped hand.

Lisa: 

“Yeah. Losers.”

The two stared at each other for a beat—then burst into excited grins.

Emily started rapidly flipping her hand to demonstrate.

Emily: 

“It’s a seven. For down. See? Cool, right?”

Lisa enthusiastically flipped her hand too.

Lisa:

 “that’s so cool! mine tells them exactly what they are!”

Senior girl:

 “STOP IGNORING US!”

Emily laughed for the first time in a long time.

That was the day I met Lisa. 

A new student…

 and instantly my best friend.

Later, Lisa pressed a cold chocolate milk carton into Emily’s hands.

Lisa:
“Here! I bought us chocolate milk. It’ll make us strong!”

Emily’s face lit up.

Emily:
“Thank you!! Next time I’ll buy you a sandwich!”

Lisa:
“Deal!!”

From then on, they trained together.
They laughed together.
And whenever they saw someone being bullied…

 they stood up for them too.

Two months later, selection day arrived.

Emily faced her opponents and beat them—cleanly, fiercely.

The coach nodded in approval.

Coach:

 “She’s small, which makes others underestimate her… but she’s strong. Tough.”

Lisa stepped forward next—her movements sharp, powerful, graceful.

Coach:

“And this one… perfect athletic build, exceptional control.”

Both of their names were called.

They had done it.

Emily and Lisa were chosen to represent their school.

Side by side.

Finally…

She wasn’t alone anymore.

The following year, Emily and Lisa ended up in the same class. The moment they saw the seating list, they exploded with joy.

Lisa:

 “We’re in the same class!!!”
Emily: 

“Finally!!!”
Lisa:

 “I saved us the front seats! We’re going to be the coolest students—and we’re going to crush this year!”
Emily: 

“Hell yeah!”

Their friendship circle kept growing and growing.

 Their days filled with laughter, inside jokes, long phone calls, and shared TV shows.

 Being with Lisa made me stopped thinking about my past… 

I stopped caring about my clan’s name…

And how people judged me.

 With Lisa by my side, nothing else mattered.

But then… things slowly changed.

Their classmates naturally gravitated toward Lisa. 

She was beautiful, bright, social, warm—and very different from Emily.

They would crowd around Lisa, forming circles without leaving Emily space to stand beside her.

 Sometimes they dragged Lisa away with them.

 Lisa always called Emily to join—but even when Emily went, she could feel it.

She was unwanted.

 A group of girls approached—the very same girls who once abandoned and bullied Emily after her father died.

Girls:

 “We want to join your group.”

Lisa lit up immediately.

Lisa: 

“Really? That’s great! You’re welcome to join! Right, Emily?”

Emily:

 “…No.”

The air snapped.The girls frowned.

Lisa:

 “Why not?”

Emily:

 “I hate people like them. I don’t want to be friends with them.”

Lisa: 

“But Meg lives near me, I’ve known her forever.

 You’ll like her if you give her a chance—she’s actually really funny”

Emily:

 “I said I don’t want to.”

Emily walked away sharply.

Behind her, Meg forced a casual laugh.

Meg:

 “It’s fine. Emily’s just… moody. Not used to new people.”

Lisa: 

“Yeah… she’s shy, but once you know her she’s amazing.”

Jaida watched in silence.

Later, she found Emily sitting alone in the garden.

Emily:

 “What do you want? I want to be alone.”

Jaida:

 “Lisa and I have been looking everywhere for you.”

Emily:

 “I don’t care.”

Jaida:

 “Emily… you and Lisa have a strong friendship. Don’t panic over what’s happening around you. Trust her.”

Jaida was different…

Kind. Calm. Loyal.
She stayed when others drifted away, always reminding me that I'm still existed. 

And when tension rose between me and Lisa or the others, Jaida stood between us like a quiet peacekeeper.

Emily stared at her quietly.

 It was their last year of junior high… 

a year full of hesitation, pride, misunderstandings.

 Jaida eventually chose a different high school, promising they would stay in touch.

As for Emily—her pride made her push Lisa away whenever she saw her standing with those girls.

First day of high school.
The day of the kidnapping.

Emily was in the middle of an argument with Lisa when everything changed.

Hands. 

Darkness.

 Fear.

Then— Running.

She didn’t even remember deciding to run.
Her body just moved—like instinct. Like a terrified child again.

“After everything… after fighting so hard to be strong… why did I run?”

That was her last memory.

Star X’s eyes snapped open.

She screamed. Thrashed.

 “Get away from me!!! Let go of me!!!”

Voices. Hands. Present time returned like a slap.

Sun-Z: 

“Star X! Calm down! It’s okay!”

Emily:

 “…Huh?”

Black Storm:

 “You’re safe. Nothing happened.”

The inventor grabbed her shoulders sharply.

Inventor: 

“Tell us your name!”

Her chest heaved.

Tears burned.

Emily: 

“My name is… Emily Mylene Frazier.”

Joy exploded around her.

Shadowlight:

 “YES!! It worked!!!”

Sun-Z:

 “It really worked!!!”

Black Storm:

 “Hey! Inventor! I’M NEXT!”

They cheered, laughing like it was a miracle.

Emily just stared at them.

Leaning weakly against the wall.

Her heart hollow.
Her past heavy.

Her childhood bleeding in her chest.

Is this…a joke?