Chapter 1 "(Y/N) Begins"

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Childbirth is the happiest moments in a parent's life.

Usually at least.

You seem to be the unlucky kid in this situation.

(Y/N) Hazama.

Your parents Landon and Myra Hazama.

A year after you were born, your younger brother would be born.

As the two of you grew up and eventually turned 5 and 4, you started to take notice of the discrepancy between you and the rest of your family.

You hadn't shared the same looks as them.

They all had brown hair, and you didn't.

Your brother, Brady, had just started to learn how to stand up and walk, and they cheered him.

You, on the other hand, had been walking since you were one.

At the moment you felt a bit... Jealous.

"Hey!" You shouted to get their attention.

You could already stand up. You could run even.

But what you got wasn't the look they gave Brady. It didn't have any passion to it. Any love.

What you got was a glare of disdain from both parents.

But of course, younger you didn't understand such a look. You had just assumed that they were angry from you suddenly raising your voice.

Brady would start to walk around the house, and he'd go in your direction.

He'd walk past you and bump shoulders with you, and he, of course, went tumbling to the ground.

He screamed Landon, and Myra rushed over to Brady and Landon would knock you out of the way.

You hit the ground hard enough to bounce off it.

Sitting up, you'd look and see them comforting him.

They'd dust his arms off and his shoulders, forearms and check his entire body for even the SLIGHTEST of scratches on his body.

While they cast you aside.

You stood up and he got lifted to his feet and he'd start walking again.

He had their full attention, and you were off to the side in your own spot. Alone.

***

That next morning, you got dressed. After all, most 5-year-olds go to kindergarten.

(I'm making it exist in Remnant. Bite me.)

You could dress yourself, Brady. On the other hand, he struggled to get his pants on and couldn't find the armholes in his shirts.

Landon and Myra helped him get his clothes on.

You walked down the stairs by yourself. You were still learning how to, but you could get down without having to crawl down.

As you neared the bottom with 3 steps left to go, your small foot would miss a step and you'd tragically fall.

You recovered now at the bottom of the stairs, your right knee stung.

Raising your pants leg, you could see your knee was now bleeding.

And it hurt.

You'd start crying not loudly, but your tears hit the wooden floor of your house.

You wiped your tears while sniffling, you'd also wipe your nose.

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