From Black and white to Purpose and Light

Chapter 3

“How’s life at the Major House?”his tone was light, teasing. “Or should I say… how was your visit?” A soft chuckle slipped from his lips as he gently stirred his freshly made tea in the cup.

"Nothing's new, Just them, being themselves" Korn answered casually while he was seated comfortably. "

Gun was overtaken by a wave of anxiety, leaving him in a daze of helplessness and fear as the thought of his missing grandson crept back into his mind. Even though no one wanted to reopen the wound—knowing the pain it would bring—Gun knew he had to. All he wanted was to help, to do whatever he could to find his grandson, Venice.

He took a deep breath, searching for the strength to talk about it again.

"Korn," he began, his voice low and concerned, though the worry beneath it was unmistakable. "Is there any news about Venice?" He finally asked.

He sighed heavily and let his eyes roam slightly around the room. "I already conducted a search. However, nothing has been heard yet," he said—his words calm and factual, though they carried the weight of disappointment and quiet frustration beneath the surface.

Gun stirred his coffee slowly, the spoon clinking gently against porcelain. His gaze drifted, unfocused, as though following a memory that wasn’t in the room. A quiet sigh escaped him. “How I wish he could spend his childhood with us,” he murmured, the weight of longing settling in his voice.

“However… he did not,” he whispered, his fingers tightening around the coffee cup as if bracing against the weight of the thought.

“Do you still blame yourself for what happened five years ago?” Korn asked, his head tilting slightly as his eyes lingered on Gun. A faint softness touched his voice as he added, “You know, it wasn’t your fault… right?”

“I know… but,” Gun murmured, his gaze dropping to the ripples in his coffee, fingers tightening as if the rest of the words refused to leave his chest.

“No one wanted that to happen. No one even expected it.” Korn’s voice steadied, though his eyes softened as they held Gun’s. “And it wasn’t your fault—nor ours.”

Still, Gun’s eyes were clouded with regret, as if carrying the weight of a fault that was never truly his.

Hurried footsteps echoed loudly down the hallway, drawing confused looks from the people he brushed past—one even stumbling as his shoulder collided with theirs. But the news he carried was far too important to ignore, far too urgent to leave for later.

“Khun! Khun!” he shouted, his voice carrying even before he reached them. By the time he arrived, breathless and gasping, his eyes darted frantically in search of Korn.

They quickly stepped in front of Korn. “I have news to tell you,” he said, still catching his breath. His voice dropped, heavy with urgency. “It’s about Khun Venice.”

The moment they heard it, both Korn and Gun shot to their feet, eyes wide in surprise. “Really!?” Korn burst out, his voice ringing with sudden excitement.

“Quick! Bring us there!” Gun urged, striding swiftly toward the exit, with Korn hurrying close behind.

---

Rain was knocked down by the two kids clutching his hands. Bruises spread across his skin, the corner of his lips swollen, and the pain lingered—so heavy that his body refused to move.

Khaim wore an aggressive smirk, a twisted creep of a smile tugging at his lips as he slowly walked toward the unconscious Rain. With a cruel sneer, he nudged Rain’s body with his foot, shoving him across the floor as though he were nothing more than a discarded object.

Soon, two of his friends arrived—not empty-handed, but carrying something with them. Khaim leaned in close to Rain’s battered face, his voice low and threatening. "This should serve as a warning to you, Rain," he hissed. "Don’t ever mess with me again."

Rain’s eyes quivered with terror, his breath ripped away the instant the bleach splashed over him. A raw scream tore from his throat, echoing like the cry of someone drowning in agony. Tears streaked down his face as he screamed and screamed—until his voice finally gave out. Yet still, his mouth hung open in a soundless cry, his body convulsing in relentless pain.

Exhausted… broken… Rain had endured enough of this pain. His body trembled, his spirit frayed, and all he longed for was for the torment to end.

Rain pursed his lips and whispered shakily, “Anyone Please… l-let me out of here…”

---

Meanwhile, Phayu was lost in confusion. His eyes wandered restlessly, searching for an answer that never came, until at last he whispered to himself, "Did I do something wrong?" With a heavy sigh, he scratched the back of his head in uncertainty.

Phayu said, ‘You know what? I’ll find Rain and ask him.

Phayu immediately left the room and began searching for Rain. Though he had no idea where to start, his steps carried a firm determination. He questioned the children and the sisters of the orphanage; however, not one of them had seen Rain or even crossed his path. A knot of unease tightened in his chest, and with no other choice, Phayu made his way toward the office of the orphanage head, hoping to find the answers he desperately needed. However, just as his hand reached for the door, he froze— the sound of his own name drifted from the conversation inside.

Phayu… as though he couldn’t bear to look away. Soon, his eyes welled with tears, and a faint smile curved across his lips. They were tears of joy. With a trembling voice, he whispered, ‘Venice…’

Venice. A name Phayu had never heard before—yet somehow, it stirred something deep within him, an inexplicable sense of attachment he couldn’t understand.

He narrowed his eyes, his brows furrowing in confusion as he tilted his head slightly, as though silently asking why he had been called Venice.

You’re mistaken, sir. My name is Phayu,” he introduced himself.

However, the man in front of him seemed unfazed by his words. He shook his head with a faint smile. “No…” he whispered, before turning toward him.

“He is… ” he asked, his voice unsteady, the words left hanging. Even though he already knew the answer, she understood what he meant without needing him to finish.

“Chai, khun gun” she replied softly.

A happy chuckle escaped his lips as he slowly approached Phayu and knelt in front of him. The moment his eyes began to scan the boy, he could already see the striking similarities between him and his father. Gently holding Phayu’s arms, Gun whispered, “Just like your dad.”

Phayu, on the other hand, glanced at the head of the orphanage, his hand was shaking, and asked, “Why is he calling me Venice, Phi?”

A part of him whispered that this man might be his family—his family who had left him at the orphanage. But why now? Why did they come only at this moment, when Phayu had just begun to find happiness?

She swayed slightly before beginning, “Phayu,” she called to catch his attention. “He’s your grandpa. He’s here to fetch you.”

Phayu felt a heavy weight crash against his chest the moment he heard the news, as though the air itself had been stolen from his lungs. His breath faltered, his body stiffened, and a hollow ache spread through him. There was no joy in what he heard—only a sinking heaviness that refused to let him go.

"No..." he refuse. "I.. I am not going with you"

"I see,” Gun muttered.

Phayu thought he was going to leave him alone—but he was wrong.

“Thank you for taking care of Venice,” Gun said with grateful smile, casting a glance at her. “I’ll be taking him away now.”

“You’re welcome, Khun Gun,” she replied softly.

At Gun’s command, the guards moved in. One of them struck Venice, knocking him unconscious, making it easier for them to carry him without resistance. With that, they swiftly departed from the orphanage, leaving nothing but silence in their wake, as the head of the orphanage escorted them outside

"Rain..." phayu whispered in his sleep.

The head of the orphanage remained by the gate, quietly watching as they disappeared from sight.

“Please… take care of Phayu. He’s been through so much,” she said with a quiet wish.

Just as she was about to step back inside, a boy who had only recently joined the orphanage came stumbling toward her. His small frame was soaked in sweat, every labored breath betraying the distance he had run. He stopped before her, chest heaving, struggling to gather enough air before he could force out his words.

“What’s the matter, Vhi?” she asked, her voice laced with worry.

“Phi—P'Rain, he—” The boy faltered, struggling to catch his breath. “I found P'Rain in the restroom… unconscious.”