Raeya was still gasping for breath. Her whole body trembled violently, as if the shadow of what had just happened still lingered in the air, pressing down on her chest. But she steadied herself—because standing before her was a boy who no longer looked like a child.
Slowly, with a hesitant motion, Raeya reached out her hand.
Wanting to touch, to soothe, to bring him back.
But—
A rush of air.
Her hand was swatted away.
"Don't touch me,"
Ches's voice came out low, almost frozen.
Sharp and distant, as if the space between them wasn't meant to be crossed so easily.
Raeya froze.
Her hand hung in the air, then fell slowly to her side.
A breath of disappointment caught in her throat, but she remained standing—steadfast, even if bruised.
"What did you do…?"
she whispered, barely audible.
There was no anger. No accusation.
Only fear, swelling and pouring out in the form of a simple question.
"You made me worry, Ches…"
"You scared me…"
Her voice cracked at the end.
But Ches didn't answer.
His eyes remained fixed on the three small bodies lying unconscious on the ground.
Bruised faces, dried blood on their temples and lips—wounds no child their age should ever have.
Raeya moved closer, panic creeping in. She dropped to her knees beside them one by one, whispering in a trembling voice.
"Hey… hey… wake up… can you hear me…?"
No response.
Her heart screamed, but she forced her hands to keep working.
She felt for pulses, brought her cheek close to their noses.
Still alive.
Still breathing.
Thank goodness…
But their injuries—the swelling bruises, the blood trickling from noses and lips—were too terrifying to ignore.
Raeya covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes stared blankly.
If they hadn't survived…
If those blows had been just a little harder…
Oh God… it could've been…
A soft sob broke through her thoughts.
Silan.
Raeya turned and saw the boy hunched over, his body shaking with deep sobs. She rushed over to him.
"Oh my God… Silan… what happened to your face…?"
But before she could finish, Silan threw his arms around her.
His small body trembled like someone waking from a nightmare.
Raeya wrapped her arms around him in return, one hand gently stroking his back.
Her tongue felt heavy.
Her mind was in chaos.
"Sshh… it's over now… you're safe… it's over, Silan…"
But through her embrace, her eyes never left him—
Ches, still standing like a statue.
His gaze was hollow.
No remorse. No fear.
Only… an emptiness that made her skin crawl.
What am I supposed to do now…?
The words never left her lips, just echoed inside her head.
Silan was crying.
The children were still unconscious.
And Ches… Ches…
Footsteps. Voices. Shouts.
Several people came running.
Their faces froze in horror as they saw what was left behind.
Someone shouted for help.
Soon, the three unconscious kids were carried away and rushed to the hospital.
A woman ran up to Silan and pulled him into her arms.
"Silan?! Oh my God… sweetheart, what happened to your face?! Who did this to you?!"
Silan's cries burst out again in his mother's arms.
Raeya rose slowly, her spirit feeling like it had been left behind.
Her steps wavered as she walked toward Ches.
"Ches,"
she called softly.
"Let's go to the clinic."
Ches shook his head.
"No need."
Raeya bit her lip.
"But your hand…"
Ches looked down briefly. His fingers trembled.
"This isn't my blood."
Raeya went silent.
Her breath caught.
She looked again at the blood on his hands, his clothes.
He was right.
It wasn't his.
Those weren't his wounds.
But why… why did he look like someone who'd seen it all before?
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
Back at the Apartment
They eventually returned to the apartment.
Without a word, Ches went straight to the bathroom.
The sound of running water filled the silence, replacing the conversation that never had a chance to happen.
The red stains faded with time, washed away by the cold water and thick foam of soap.
Raeya sat quietly on the sofa. Waiting.
When Ches came out, his face was still cold—unchanged, as if none of what had happened had left a mark.
Raeya gently patted the space beside her.
"Ches… come here. Sit. Let me take care of your hand."
"It's just a scratch," Ches replied flatly. "You're overreacting."
"Even small wounds need care," Raeya said gently. "Come on…"
"No need."
Raeya looked down. Regret shimmered faintly in her eyes.
"I just want to help you…"
Ches let out a sigh—tired, annoyed, it was hard to tell—then walked over and sat down with little interest.
"Fine. Go ahead. You're annoying," he muttered.
Raeya smiled faintly. Not a cheerful smile, but enough to hide the little sigh of relief in her chest.
She reached for the first aid kit, cleaning the wound gently, as if afraid to touch too hard.
Her hands trembled slightly as she wrapped the bandage.
"All done," she whispered after a while.
Ches looked down at it. The bandage was thick—like a fortress guarding a minor wound.
"Hey… are you sure this counts as treatment?" he mumbled flatly.
Raeya chuckled awkwardly.
"Pretty sure… though maybe a little overboard."
"It's just a scratch, not a war wound. You make it look like I came back from battle."
Raeya lowered her head, lips forming a small pout.
"Well, sorry… I'm still learning…"
Ches swiftly began unwrapping the bandage.
"Hey, don't take it off!" Raeya protested. "I worked hard on that…"
Ches shot her a glare.
"If someone sees this, they'll think my arm's broken."
Raeya bit her lower lip, guilt creeping in.
"Sorry…"
Silence settled between them.
Then, in a low but firm voice, Ches said,
"I'll show you how to do it properly."
Raeya turned to him, eyes wide.
"You can?"
"Yes."
"Wow… you can do that at your age?"
Ches didn't answer. He just took a fresh bandage and began wrapping his hand.
His movements were precise, practiced. Nothing excessive.
"For small wounds like this, just do it like this. No need to overdo it," he explained.
Raeya nodded, watching carefully.
"You're really amazing," she murmured.
Ches said nothing.
But this time… he didn't push her away either.
And for Raeya, that was enough.
Enough to make her believe that—maybe, just maybe—
through these tiny cracks, something was beginning to grow.
Quiet… but real.