Baby Tomo lay trembling on the ground, his tiny body shaking as he cried out with sharp, desperate sounds. His little face twisted in anger and fear, and his tiny fists pounded weakly against the floor. The seizure-like jerks made him roll from side to side, his voice breaking into loud sobs that pierced the air.
He had been left alone, and that was something his fragile heart could not bear. Tomo searched for his mom with wide, tear-filled eyes, but she was nowhere near. Every second without her felt endless, and the loneliness burned inside him. His cries grew louder, more broken, like he was calling with all the strength he had left.
Neighbors glanced over, worried at the sight. Tomo’s chest heaved as he gasped between sobs, his small body curling into itself as though trying to hold onto comfort that wasn’t there. His anger at being left alone spilled out in his loud, shaking cries, but deep beneath the anger was fear—the fear of being abandoned.
Minutes passed, but for Tomo it felt like forever. His eyes darted around, hoping, begging to see his mother’s familiar face. His little tail flicked nervously, and his voice cracked as he screamed louder, demanding her return.
Finally, faint steps approached. The moment he sensed his mom’s presence, Tomo’s cries shifted—still loud, still angry, but now mixed with relief. He clung tightly the instant she reached him, pressing his trembling body against her warmth.
Though upset, Tomo’s sobs slowly softened. He still felt hurt that she had left him, but in her arms, he was safe again. His anger began to fade, replaced by the deep comfort only a mother could give.
