Martyrs of red blood

Chapter 1 (short) :')

"You. What's your name?" Tiketo asked, his hands still working away.

"Juntan."

"Where are you from?"

Almost hypnotized by the blissful atmosphere, Juntan allowed himself to give a truthful answer.

"Spain... Granada."

"Any parents?"

"I don't know."

Juntan had no memories of any parental figures throughout his entire childhood.

"Then, how have you been living this whole time?"
"There is a place where all the homeless and orphaned children gather" Juntan explained flatly. "We would receive various assignments from the boss there. When the job was finished, all the kids who contributed were given bread to eat."

Many jobs of all varieties were assigned to the children that they eventually lost count. But no matter how long or hard he worked, they were only ever rewarded in small portions of food. Many of the children were already weak, and they'd get sicker and weaker until eventually dying right before Juntan's eyes. But it was all he knew; he didn't see any other options for how to survive.

"...Is that so."

Just as Juntan predicted, Tiketo didn't say much in response to his tale. The rest of the bath continued in silence, as Tiketo finished Juntan's hair and moved to scrub his back, his touch remaining comfortingly gentle.

(Just, who is he?)

Of all the people Juntan had encountered over the course of his life, none of them have ever treated him this way.

As he cupped and poured water over the top of Juntan's head, leaving a lingering trail of bubbles down his face, Tiketo spoke once more, as he pointed towards the tall mirror that stood just adjacent.

"Oi, your hair... take a look at it."

Juntan turned towards his own reflection that it reciprocated his gaze.
His hair, that had always been dirty and ragged all his life, had actually changed color.
His locks, now of a faint chestnut hue, were still soaking wet, with water droplets trickling from the tips. The light of the lamp in the room illuminated his hair, making it appear almost golden.

"Look, the light is making your hair shine." Tiketo
smiled, running his fingers smoothly through the boy's hair. "It's beautiful, just like rays of sunlight."

Ba-dump.

Juntan's heart rang out to him.

         (My hair isn't what's beautiful. What's beautiful here is―)

         Instead of focusing on his hair, Juntan's gaze had settled onto Tiketo's serene smile.
Tiketo abruptly lifted himself from the bath, throwing a towel onto Juntan.

"You at least know how to dry yourself off right?" He asked bluntly. "There's a change of clothes for you right over there. Once you've finished getting dressed, come to the room just next door."
And with that, Tiketo left the room.

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I think this one is short so ,
Wait again till I upload :D