Jumanji stood at the center of the circle surrounding him, confusion raging within him.

  He knew with absolute certainty that he was not the person they were looking for, and that the names and dates they threw at his ears were nothing but riddles for which he possessed no keys.

  He found himself adrift in uncertainty, yet his experienced soul understood that prolonged silence in the presence of suspicion was a silent confession.

  He had to act to dispel any doubts.

  Breaking the barrier of silence, Jumanji spoke in a calm tone laced with carefully feigned confusion so as not to draw further attention.

  "My parents? It seems there has been some misunderstanding. I merely went out to stroll near the tribe’s borders in search of a little quiet, but I lost my way in the darkness of the forest.

  You all know very well that we youngsters are not allowed to wander alone into the depths of the trees, so how could I dare to do that intentionally?"

  A brief silence followed.

  Jumanji seized the moment to glance toward the two youths who had threatened him earlier.

  Innocence was carefully painted across his face, hiding years of cunning behind it.

  "You may ask the brothers here," he continued.

  "I was never with them on their expedition. They simply stumbled upon me by chance on their way back to the village after finishing their task.

  Had they not found me, I might be in a state that would please no one."

  At that moment, one of the two youths skillfully picked up the thread of Jumanji’s lie.

  "Yes, that’s right! We found him just moments ago. It seems he fell from a tall tree while trying to explore the area.

  Look at the wounds the fall left behind!"

  Jumanji turned his body slightly, revealing the bandages covering his back, silently confirming their story.

  A brief silence lingered before one of the youths waved his hand dismissively.

  "Alright then, see you tomorrow."

  The other did the same and prepared to leave.

  As for Taskast, she merely watched the scene in complete silence before quietly turning away and departing.

  Jumanji suddenly realized he had fallen into another predicament.

  He had no idea where the house of the boy whose identity he had stolen was located.

  Not wanting to arouse suspicion, he quickly made a decision.

  Pretending weakness, he collapsed to his knees and spoke in a frail voice before everyone could disperse.

  "Could someone help me get home? I’m extremely exhausted and can’t walk on my own."

  Everyone turned back toward him and approached again.

  One of the boys glanced at Taskast and asked, "Could you take him with you? Aren’t your homes in the same direction?"

  Another boy added confidently, "Of course she will. She’s his cousin after all.

  Even though he always disrespects her, they share the same blood. She can’t leave him like this."

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  A silent shock coursed through Jumanji’s veins upon hearing this truth.

  This powerful girl—the one whose arrow had slain the beast—was the cousin of the boy devoured by the bear.

  Taskast did not comment much.

  She simply said with calm dignity, "I will."

  Before leaving, one of the two youths cast Jumanji a final glance and sneered.

  "Don’t annoy her on the way with your endless chatter like you always do. Try to be polite for once."

  Taskast walked beside Jumanji as he leaned weakly on her shoulder for support.

  She was tall, even taller than him, radiating composure and seriousness in every step.

  This only strengthened Jumanji’s belief that the relationship between this boy and his cousin had been strained and complicated.

  A heavy silence settled between them.

  The only sound was the rhythm of their footsteps against the damp stones.

  After a while, Jumanji murmured in a faint voice, barely audible.

  "I'm sorry."

  The word did not arise from guilt toward her.

  It was meant for the departed boy.

  It was a quiet trace of regret, an unspoken gratitude toward the one whose identity he had borrowed.

  Taskast stopped in her tracks.

  That simple word struck her like lightning.

  The "Jumanji" she knew had never possessed the word apology in his vocabulary—especially not toward her.

  She tilted her head slightly and studied him carefully.

  It was as though she were trying to pierce through his features to determine whether he was truly the same person.

  Or whether the forest had replaced him with someone else.

  At first she said nothing.

  She simply continued walking, though her steps had slowed.

  Then she finally spoke, her voice smooth yet filled with suspicion.

  "Sorry? It seems that bear’s claws reached your head and damaged something in it.

  I’ve never heard that word from you before."

  Jumanji felt the chill in her words.

  His apology had planted a seed of doubt within her mind.

  A sudden change in personality was a double-edged sword.

  He continued walking while pretending exhaustion.

  He knew he now had to watch every reaction carefully.

  This cousin was not like the other youths.

  She possessed eyes that never missed their target—just like her arrow.

  Taskast said nothing more.

  She simply walked quietly, as though rereading every detail of the boy she was supporting.

  Ever since he apologized, he had fallen into deep silence.

  His gaze drifted toward the horizon.

  He no longer chattered as he once did.

  Nor did he stare at her boldly as before.

  After several minutes of silent walking through the stone-paved paths, they stopped before an imposing two-story house.

  Its wooden door was carved with fine patterns that reflected the status of its inhabitants.

  "We’ve arrived," Taskast said, gently releasing him before the entrance.

  Jumanji studied the house nervously.

  Before he could gather his thoughts, the door burst open.

  A man in his forties stepped out.

  He wore a dark green robe that gave him an imposing dignity.

  His sharp features carried both strictness and concern, though he tried to hide the latter behind his authority.

  "Uncle!"

  Taskast bowed immediately, placing her right hand over her heart in a gesture of deep respect.

  The man nodded firmly.

  "Welcome, Taskast."

  Then his gaze shifted sharply toward Jumanji.

  Jumanji remained still.

  Though confusion churned in his mind, his face stayed as rigid as stone.

  He mimicked Taskast’s gesture, bowing silently with his hand over his heart.

  "You realize the gravity of what you’ve done, don’t you?" the man said sternly.

  His eyes pierced Jumanji’s silence like daggers.

  Jumanji straightened his posture and stared at the ground without speaking.

  At that moment, Taskast intervened.

  "I was the one who brought Jumanji with me, Uncle.

  I needed his help with something, and I apologize for not asking your permission beforehand."

  The man shifted his gaze from his niece back to Jumanji.

  Suspicion mixed with curiosity crossed his face.

  "I only hope he didn’t cause you trouble," he said with faint sarcasm.

  "Or bother you again with those foolish marriage proposals of his."

  Taskast replied calmly.

  "No, Uncle. He was surprisingly obedient today."

  The man nodded slowly.

  "Please come in, Taskast. Dinner is ready. Join us."

  Taskast declined respectfully.

  "Thank you, Uncle, but I have an important matter that must be finished tonight. Please excuse me."

  She bowed once more.

  Then she left with steady steps until she disappeared into the shadows of the paths.

  After she left, the father turned toward Jumanji.

  He studied him silently before speaking.

  "Do you intend to stay outside all night?"

  "I’ll come in," Jumanji murmured quietly.

  He stepped inside with heavy footsteps.

  The man watched his son’s back.

  There was an unfamiliar composure in his walk.

  Then he closed the door behind them.

  The house’s interior reflected refined wealth mixed with strength.

  Its walls were lined with polished bamboo wood.

  Paper lanterns cast a soft golden glow throughout the halls.

  The place felt dignified and calm.

  In the center of the hall drifted the calming scent of herbal incense.

  It mingled with the aroma of food coming from the dining room.

  Before Jumanji could take more than a few steps, a woman rushed toward him.

  She appeared to be in her late thirties.

  She wore a soft silk dress the color of earth.

  Her features were gentle.

  Yet her eyes were red from crying and worry.

  The moment she saw him, she gasped.

  Then she rushed forward and cupped his face with trembling hands.

  "Jumanji! My son… my heart nearly stopped from fear for you! Where were you?"

  Suddenly her trembling hands brushed against his back.

  She froze in horror.

  Then she quickly turned him around.

  "Why is your body covered in bandages? What happened to you, my son?"

  Jumanji froze in place.

  A strange tightness formed in his chest.

  Was he truly meant to play this role?

  Did these parents deserve such deception?

  Now he faced the hardest kind of acting.

  Not before enemies.

  But before sincere affection he did not know how to answer without exposing himself.

  Jumanji devoured his dinner with a hunger he could not restrain.

  His frail body had suffered greatly from starvation.

  He ate until he felt full, as though he had never eaten before.

  After finishing, he once again relied on the excuse of exhaustion.

  His mother gently escorted him to his room.

  Her steps were filled with concern.

  The room was modest in size yet dignified in its simplicity.

  A wooden bed stood at its center.

  Beside it was a small table holding a dim lantern.

  A bookshelf and a wardrobe rested quietly in the corners.

  At that moment, Jumanji had no desire to explore the room.

  Nor did he wish to search through the belongings of its former owner.

  All he desired was peace.

  The moment his body touched the soft bed, warmth spread through his limbs.

  He surrendered completely to the heaviness of sleep.

  He sank into a deep slumber.

  Exhausted from the struggle to survive.

  Burdened by a role he had never chosen to play.

  Thus ended the first day of his life in this world.

  Its page closed behind the veil of dreams.

  End of Chapter