Chapter 3: Name

After realizing that he had truly traveled back in time by five years, Yohan made the decision to escape from his uncle's house as soon as possible. While most people would have sought revenge against those who made their lives miserable, Yohan knew that revenge wouldn't necessarily bring him happiness.

Despite hating his uncle's family more than anyone else for all they had done to him in the past, Yohan decided to focus on himself and finding true happiness this time around. He recognized that he was not smart or strong, nor did he have any connections with anyone who could help him get ahead in life.

Instead of wasting precious time seeking revenge and reliving old grudges, Yohan wanted to move forward and live a fulfilling life, one filled with joy, love and passion.

Yohan's eyes drifted towards his old phone, eager to check the train schedule and plan his escape from home. He wondered if his uncle had tapped this phone too in anticipation of him running away. Perhaps he should leave it behind and buy a new one after escaping.

"I need to get out of here and find some random city far away..."

But as he reached for the device, pain shot through his wrist causing him to grimace. His wrist was slightly sprained from hitting Yoh repeatedly with a bat without stopping.

While massaging his injured wrist gingerly, Yohan's fingers traced over an old scar on his skin - a painful reminder of when Yoh had inflicted harm upon him back when they were just 14 years old. The memories from that incident flooded back into his mind like a dam bursting its walls.

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The air hung heavy with the metallic scent of blood as Yoh's words, sharp as shards of ice, pierced Yohan's soul.

"Since my scar can't disappear," he stated coldly, his voice devoid of any warmth or empathy, "you must have the same."

With a swift and brutal movement, Yoh drove a rusty nail deep into Yohan's wrist. The agony was instant and searing – a white-hot pain that lanced through Yohan's body like a bolt of lightning. He cried out in anguish, struggling against Yoh's iron grip as another identical wound bloomed on his flesh – a mirror image to the one etched permanently onto Yoh's own wrist.

Yohan could still hear Yoh's chilling laughter echoing in his ears even as tears streamed down his face mingling with the crimson welling up around the fresh wound.

"Why do you always do this to me?!" he screamed hoarsely between sobs, desperate for release from both physical and emotional torment. "Why do I always have to have the same scars as you?"

Yoh's cold eyes bored into Yohan's, his expression unreadable. "What do you think, Yohan?" he sneered, a glint of sadistic pleasure in his gaze.

"Did you truly believe that our family would ever accept an orphaned nobody like yourself? That we would welcome you with open arms and love you as one of our own?"

Yohan's heart sank at these words - they were the same ones he'd heard countless times before from Yoh's lips. The cruel boy always made sure to remind him of his lowly status in their household, rubbing salt into every wound until it festered beyond repair.

Yoh's fingers tightened on Yohan's chin, his gaze a chilling appraisal of the tear-streaked face before him. A cruel smile stretched across his lips as he released his grip, wiping his hand disdainfully on his trousers as if brushing off some insignificant speck of dirt.

"You should be grateful," he said softly, the words dripping with venom. "Grateful that we both have very similar faces."

Yoh continued, relishing in Yohan's pain. "You're nothing but a toy to me... A gift from my parents so that whatever happens to me... you have to bear it."

"If you feel like life is unfair, blame your parents for dying so early and leaving you with our family."

Yohan couldn't take it anymore – every word was like another cut from that rusty nail still lodged in his wrist. He cried out in anguish, writhing against Yoh's grip even as fresh blood seeped through the makeshift bandage he'd wrapped around the wound using his shirt.

But Yoh didn't care about any of that - not really. He took a call from one of his many friends - her voice carrying through the receiver with carefree abandon.

"Yohan, let's go hang out at the karaoke place!" she said excitedly.

Yoh glanced over at the injured boy before replying nonchalantly, "Okay, wait for me in half an hour."

Yoh then made his way to the front yard without a care in the world, leaving behind a battered and bleeding Yohan on the ground.

No one knew that there were two identical cousins with the same name - both named Yohan.

But while one of the Yohans lived a life of luxury and ease, the other was treated like a sacrificial lamb to be used and abused by his cruel relatives; destined to bear their scars and suffer their wrath...

No one in this world knows the existence of the other Yohan.

Not even until death.