Hakan and Kemal spent their childhoods fighting each other.

Their fathers had been enemies. Their grandfathers, too.

Their mothers gossiped about each other at every opportunity.

When they became young men, they chased after the same girls, each trying to outdo the other.

Later, they opened shops across the street from one another, determined to prove who was better.

Hakan hadn’t even planned on opening a shop, but he couldn’t let Kemal have the upper hand.

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The rivalry extended to everything. They married in the same week, forcing the villagers to choose which wedding to attend and what gifts to bring.

Kemal wasn’t ready to settle down, not really. But let Hakan get married first? Never.

Their children were born within days of each other. Even their baby celebrations clashed, and as the kids grew older, they fought in the streets, just like their fathers had.

Then Kemal fell ill.

He stopped coming to his shop, his absence casting a shadow over the street.

When the news of Kemal’s death reached him, Hakan scoffed, “Good riddance to the bastard.”

That same night, Hakan suffered a heart attack.

The next day, the villagers buried them side by side.