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It was practically a rule that a character like me couldn't have a real name. Regardless of what anyone was going to say, the one who ought to name the sickly boy was Kim Hyun-Sung. At the very least, I deserved a nickname.
‘You’ll give me one, won't you? You will, right?’
His expression was tinged with surprise. Perhaps it was because I carried more than one burden. In addition to being sickly, I was both mute and nameless. Naturally, anyone would go quiet upon realizing that. He probably believed that his own life was filled with suffering, yet the world was large, and countless stories existed within it.
And even I, a little brat, whose life was impossible to grasp in full, had somehow managed to keep my bright smile while struggling through all sorts of hardships.
Of course, pain couldn't really be weighed or compared, and no matter where one stood, each person had their own hardships. At the very least, objectively, my life was more miserable than his life.
Since the moment I was born, I had been worrying about every meal, enduring the disgust of others, and living a life of constant battle...
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