Raindrops. The boy could hear raindrops. It must be raining, yet it was warm. Almost as if he was being embraced.

Whose arm is this?

A tender humming danced wistfully beside his ear. Hearing it was soothing, like a gentle river stream. He closed his eyes to bask, to wonder about what sweet dreams the lullaby would give him. And yet, despite closing his eyes for so long, he could not sleep. How strange it was, but perhaps it was for the better. He wouldn't be able to hear the hums should he fall asleep.

I hope this never ends. The boy wished, but like all things, it eventually did.

"Did you like it, [????}?" The sweet voice whispered gently to him as a loving hand brushed through his hair. Perhaps he hasn't heard his name for the longest time, but he could not recognize the name she just uttered. Though, he instantly recognized the warm sensation he felt.

Mother?

He couldn't reply, even though he desperately wanted to. Even if it was just a dream. All he could do was stare helplessly as he always did.

The lady he called Mother smiled and gazed at the far distance, as if reminiscing.

"I used to sing that to my daughters, you know." She spoke with a subtle sadness seeping from her tone. "I would put their heads right beside my chest and hum the very same tune, all the while they listened to the beat of my heart."

She had children before me? He wanted to ask this and more, but was once again reminded that he couldn't.

Frustration strangled his heart, enough to make him cry.

"Jealous?" She giggled, rocking him gently to calm him down. She was surprised when the infant clasped the fancy whistle she wore. "You must be connected to this. We use this to call the spirit bound to it by a special contract. Since I've already used it, it's just a piece of metal now. Your father entrusted this to me so we can save your life. He's up there now, along with your mother. They're calling me... so I should follow."

No. Not again. Please don't go.

SMACK!

"OW!" The boy held his forehead in reflex. Once again, he woke with pain. As any normal man would, he wanted to curse the absolutely abhorrent individual who would dare smack someone in his sleep. Though, such thoughts were never really set in motion. To further discourage him-

Shit, it's her. He gulped upon seeing Daphne.

"You alright now?" Daphne spoke, still a tad grumpy somehow.

The boy nodded, unsure of the situation at hand. His cheeks still ached, but they were... fine?

"Good. Let's go. Captain Martins wants to see you." She tried to grab his wrist, but he dodged. She showed him her fist, and he immediately complied.

There were many questions to ask, mainly about her intentions. He could tell with just one look at her— she was lying. What would Captain Martins call him for, an apology? Why would he do that when he was already made an example of?

Captain Martins hates nobles with a passion. The very reason the boy was put against Daphne in the first place was to put the dirt in someone else's hand. The Captain has done this on many occasions, according to the older drafted. Captain Martins wouldn't even want to meet her.

Lenient, he said. He saw his son in us, he said. The boy sighed. Today was not a good day. Not that he has had good days before, this one was just especially bad.

So why is Daphne here?

Due to the fishiness of the situation, the boy resisted Daphne's tugging by pulling back. Although, he folded at the sight of her fingers curling into a fist. After another exasperated sigh, he continued to question her presence. There was no benefit from checking up on the nameless prince scorned by everyone. Nothing to gain from suddenly grabbing his hand either.

Hands... Our hands are touching! It was fortunate for him that the girl did not look back, for the boy was sure that he had the ugliest expression at the moment. It was the first time he touched a member of the opposite sex without getting clobbered.

"Here, fill yourself up so you can heal more." Daphne suddenly threw a jerky for him to catch. It was one made with human flesh. "What are you looking at me for? Animal meat is expensive."

The boy took a distrustful bite of the jerky before gobbling it down like a rabid wolf. Daphne observed him first before continuing.

"Did it hurt?" Daphne asked, to which the boy tilted his head. "My punch. Did it hurt?"

I'm used to it. The boy thought, but only thought. He remained silent while averting his gaze from Daphne's.

"You're not mute. I saw and heard you speak earlier, so speak."

"..."

"... Looks like declining the marriage offer was the right decision, after all. I wouldn't want my husband to be a wimp."

Wimp? Another one of those words that agitate him whenever it reaches his ears. This one was an insult to the countless days he endured. Although, he couldn't dare speak his thoughts out. He never could, as he was taught not to unless specifically asked by a superior. The girl was not above him. And even if she was, telling her that he is pissed does nothing.

However, no matter how much he tries to hide it, it always shows on his face. The girl smiled before continuing.

"So, how did you do it? Dodge my punch, I mean. I thought it was a fluke at first, but that couldn't have been the case. Not even my father—who is the War God by the way—was able to dodge my charged-up punch."

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"..."

"... I've had enough of this. Answer me before I cave your other cheek in. NOW!"

"W-When I heard the cue to start, I just immediately tilted my head."

"... And why is that?"

"I-I-It's just... everyone goes for my face first." The boy touched the place he just mentioned.

The girl pulled the boy's collar to observe his face at a closer distance.

Anyone would understand if they saw him. The boy's face had a ridiculous amount of scars. It was like a canvas, a grotesque Obra maestra produced by the most sadistic painter in Germania. It was art, she thought, since he still looked incredibly handsome in spite of them. More manly too, if you would disregard his overly submissive attitude.

For a moment, she was regretful. Maybe even frustrated. She felt her heart as if it was wrung.

Why am I feeling this way? I don't even know him.

She couldn't tell the answer. She didn't have the time to tell, because much as she hated to admit it, seeing handsome men does take her mind away.

"That's a lie. You were about to dodge my second punch, yet you didn't." She released his collar to grab his wrist once more. "You let yourself be punched. Tell me the real reason."

"I-"

Words wouldn't come out of the boy's lips. Indeed, why did he let himself be punched? He pondered for a while, but to no avail. Still, he had to say something.

"I... I don't know. The boy bitterly responded. It was an honest response, although, honesty was not enough for Daphne and her burning fists. There HAD to be something.

"Y-you're too beautiful, I guess." His face flushed. He regretted saying it as soon as he did.

Why did I even say that? The sheer embarrassment almost made him gag.

Surprisingly, Daphne released the boy's wrist afterward.

He could finally breathe a sigh of relief—T'was what he thought. Instead, he would be reminded of how Daphne truly was the opposite of what her name suggested.

WHOOP!

A bright blur that seared the air flew towards the boy. In less than a split second, it will hit his face, then probably scatter whatever his head contained. He saw death in that short window of thought. Without thinking of anything else, he stepped back and bent his body, then fell to the ground. Again, if the boy was even a moment late, his head would've exploded right then and there.

"Oh, so that's how it is." Daphne grunted in satisfaction.

She's... an absolute... crackhead! He quickly crawled back as the girl slowly approached him.

"Gosh, you can't take a joke, can you?"

"I-I'm sorry." Your jokes will kill me!

"Come on, you didn't really think I would kill you, right?"

The boy backed off even faster than before.

"... Okay maybe I was gonna do it a tiny bit, but only because I was sure you'll dodge it! I mean, you only dodge the attacks you're sure will kill you anyway."

What if I didn't dodge it? You crackhead!

"Why do you not dodge any other attack besides the fatal ones? Are you a masochist? That must be it... "

No.

"It... it all connects now... no wonder you're bullied every day... you must've been asking for it..."

NO!

"How are you supposed to make friends if you're this weird-"

"I'M NOT!"

Oh shit. The boy gasped. He did not mean to raise his voice.

"I-I'm sorry!"

It's okay. He breathed heavily, bracing for some sort of impact. The boy expected her to drag him along the ground while yelling how he didn't know his place. However, the boy was surprised to hear... laughing? It was strange to hear laughter that was not caused by a person mocking him. Bizarre as it was, he didn't dislike the feeling.

"I think I can get along with you." She said while wiping the tears from her eyes. "You know my name right? Say it."

Should I answer? She asked a question, but she hasn't asked for the answer yet.

"You know my name... right?.. Say it. NOW!" The sparks on Daphne's fists forced the boy to talk.

"D-Daphne..."

"Good! From now on, you'll answer whenever I ask you, exactly when I ask you. If you don't, I won't warn you anymore. Got it?"

"..."

"... You fucking-"

"G-Got it! I'm sorry!"

"And cut it out with the sorrys!"

"I'm sorry- I mean- I-"

"God." Daphne's palm inadvertently went on her face. "Just... tell me your name."

"It's-"

What was his name again? He hasn't heard nor spoken the damn word for so long.

"I don't know."

"... You really don't know anything, do you?"

"I'm s- I mean, nothing."

"Ah, this won't work. It will be hard to be friends with you, especially when you don't have a name."

A friend, what exactly is it? It was a concept he had only read in books and only observed on rare occasions. No one wanted to be friends with him, so he never dared to and eventually gave up on the notion.

That one... doesn't count.

But now, it is different. He's... hopeful. Motivated. Desperate, even. He called upon his memories to try and speak his name-

"I-"

What's... my name again?

The boy's eyes sank as his mouth remained open. His face paled in a matter of seconds, darkness looming over his face. Who in the world doesn't remember their own name? It was supposed to be the most familiar part of oneself, and yet, not a letter of his name came to his head.

He has endured many hardships. Beatings from the palace maids, gossip from the palace guards, the same harassment from people his age, and even the fact that he had to serve in the military.

Not one of them, not a single one, made him cry as much as he did now.

W-w-what should I do? My... my name... my friend...

Upon seeing the boy's face, Daphne pondered. Then, after a while, a wide smile appeared on her face.

"Hey! Stop crying and listen to me!"

"I... I can't!" The boy sniffled. "I want to be your friend!"

"Jeez, what a crybaby. I hate crybabies, so you can't be my friend. However, you can be my servant instead!"

The boy turned to the girl with a scowl on his face. He knew exactly what she meant. Slaves are usually nameless or stripped of their names. It is all for the convenience of the noble that would buy them so that they could give their property a name they are most comfortable with. Daphne's suggestion implied a master-servant relationship in her favor.

"I-I'm not a slave!" He retorted. "If this is what you dragged me out here for, it can't happen."

"OH SHIT! DAPHNE YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" Daphne yelled. All of a sudden, she became all fidgety. "I went too far... I'm sorry."

"..."

"I said I'm sorry, okay! You're gonna be my slave anyway, so forgive me!"

She's apologizing for attempted murder? He knew Daphne was weird, but not to this extent. But then again, it was not a bad feeling. In fact, it was funny, because for someone who acts so tough, she sure is a huge airhead.

"I'm not a slave."

"For someone who is not a slave, you sure are treated like one." Daphne added.

"It's... it's because I'm not strong." The boy bit his lips.

"That is true." Daphne smirked. "But if you become my servant, I will make you strong!"

"S-strong is when I don't cry anymore. All you did today was make me cry."

"Strong is when you stop crying? What kind of bullshit is that? No wonder you're so abused!"

"Then... what is strong?" The boy asked.

"Strong is when you KILL the people who make you cry!" Daphne said.

"T-then, if I kill you, I'm strong?"

"You'll never kill me, but sure. You can try though." Daphne ignites her fist before continuing with a cocky grin. "If you become my servant, I'll make sure that no one will touch you nor speak badly of you. To be my servant is to be mine, and I treasure my possessions very dearly."

If this boy becomes my servant, then... perhaps... Daphne clasped her fist even tighter.

"So... do you want to stay weak like this, or do you want to be my servant and gain power?"

Power! The boy repeated in his mind. He uttered the line in his favorite story.

Mightiest is he who stands tall amidst adversity—It meant that the strongest of people were those who had mastered the way of enduring; a path he was trying to walk for what seemed to be forever.

But... it doesn't seem to be working.

The boy genuflected, his right fist placed on his beating heart and his left fist placed on his back.

Perhaps... it was time to change.

"Please. Make me strong."