I don't know where to go anymore; there's nowhere else to go besides my home.

"Hold on. I'm going to pull this nail out," Khairul said, and Nasuha nodded. Khairul quickly removed the nail from Nasuha's foot, blood flowed freely as he immediately pressed cotton on the wound, but blood continued to seep out.

"Ergh..." Nasuha winced in pain. Khairul took more cotton and wrapped Nasuha's foot until the bleeding stopped.

They were both in Khairul's messy room, with blood from Nasuha's wound spilled on the floor.

"Let me... bandage the cut on your forehead," Nasuha offered.

"Eh, why?"

"Just let me..."

Nasuha applied yellow oil to the gash on Khairul's forehead, seemingly unfazed by the sting, indicating she was used to the pain. Nasuha's expression turned sorrowful.

Khairul watched Nasuha's face, her eyes bruised and lip cracked.

"What the hell did he do to you?" Khairul asked.

"He hit me with his friends," Nasuha replied, and Khairul appeared disturbed.

"It seems he's not satisfied with me being with you. He took it all out on me. Suddenly, just when I thought they would stop bothering me, they did something even worse..." Nasuha explained as she bandaged Khairul's head, covering the wound.

"Because of me... you ended up like this."

"Just... stop. Don't... Don't say things like that," Nasuha said, and Khairul fell silent.

"You did what you felt you should do... You're not at fault. They're the ones who are truly evil, no matter what." Nasuha looked angry, and Khairul turned his gaze away as she examined his messy room.

"Your room is really messy."

"Just noticing now?" A bitter smile formed on Khairul's face. Nasuha smiled too, but it quickly faded.

"I was seriously thinking about ending my life earlier. I was scared... I didn't want to go back... I didn't want to keep feeling this pain. But I don't know, I felt relieved... you pulled me back... I'm relieved that it was you who showed up, not someone else," Nasuha explained.

"Lucky for me I chose to work with you too. I don't want to think about what would have happened if I hadn't," Khairul sighed deeply.

"What happened to me? I don't understand. What did I do to make everything turn out like this? Why do they have such a grudge against me that they would hit me... mess up my stuff... throw my shoes onto the roof? How can someone be so terrible?" Nasuha said, slapping her face.

"All the bad things people do stem from anger. From my experience, when someone is angry, they become ugly. Especially when they don't know where to let that anger out—just like me, I guess," Khairul shared, and Nasuha turned to look at him.

"You're not like them."

"Maybe... Maybe I'm worse." Khairul stood up slowly, and Nasuha fell silent, listening to his response. He walked to his wardrobe.

"Here, take this. Go take a shower." Khairul handed Nasuha a gray shirt, track pants, and a towel.

"Is it okay for me to wear your clothes?" Nasuha asked.

"This is my old shirt; it's too small for me. You'll fit it. Oh, and don't take off the bandage on your foot just yet... it might still be bleeding," Khairul replied.

"Uhm... okay." Nasuha nodded in understanding.

Khairul stepped out of his room; as soon as he closed the door, he leaned against it and sat down, his face showing frustration.

Nasuha was caught in the fallout of what I did.

Others are hurting... because of me... Because I'm so stupid!

"Colorful particles from the sky are falling in Florida, America. This strange phenomenon remains a mystery..."

Hazim was inside the van, listening to the radio; he propped his head up and let out a long sigh. Suddenly, the door of his van swung open, and a woman entered.

"Ugh. It's been raining nonstop, man..." the woman complained, her clothes and hair slightly wet.

"It took you a long time. Did you buy snacks or what?" Hazim asked.

"Oh, come on, let it be!" the woman replied, sticking out her tongue. She carried a plastic bag filled with chips and tamarind.

"You've been looking emo for a while now. What's wrong?" she asked with a curious expression.

"I'm just worried about someone."

"Who?"

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"The kid who works at my stall... Khai."

"That kid with the bruised face all the time?"

"Yeah... I don't know; when he works with me, he's busy with his tasks, so he doesn't have time to do silly things. But now... sigh... he has a lot of time to do things he shouldn't be doing," Hazim explained, his concern evident.

"What are you so worried about? You're not his father," the woman retorted.

"He's a fool, mischievous, but he's like the little brother I wish I had; loyal and actually kind-hearted. Not like you," Hazim glanced at his sister with a displeased expression.

"Ah, shut up!" his sister snapped.

I remembered the first day I met that kid. It was about a year ago. He came to my stall with bruises on his face. I don't think I've ever seen him without injuries.

He asked for a job. Of course, I turned him down obviously. But he came almost every day, each time with new bruises and wounds on his body.

At first, I was annoyed, but after I scolded him, he kept coming back, asking for work. Over time, I realized something was wrong, so one day, I just sat down with him and chatted.

I dug up his story and learned...

Khai's father was an abuser. Khai had no money; to eat or drink, he had to earn money by beating people at his school.

I gave him a job with me.

It was definitely a hassle. He didn't even know how to light a fire.

But that kid never gave up. He wanted a different life; I could feel that.

All I could do was help him by giving him work and money. Every time I thought of reporting Khai's father, I pondered where else Khai could find shelter, and he also stopped me.

I'm just as bad as that abuser. I can't do anything because I can't protect Khai...

Adults like me are so pathetic...

Khairul knocked on his room door several times.

"Yeah, I'm done... Sorry it took a bit longer," Nasuha said while opening the door. Khairul stood in front of her, holding two cups of hot Milo in his left hand.

"Milo... This is all I have at home," Khairul offered.

"Thank you." Nasuha took a cup of Milo from Khairul and immediately took a sip.

"Does your dad mind if you bring friends home?" Nasuha asked.

"Oh, he'll beat me up... and since you're a girl, he'll kill me." Khairul smiled bitterly, and Nasuha's expression turned to one of concern.

"Fine, I'll go home," Nasuha sighed.

"But you don't want to go home, do you?" Khairul's eyes were fixed on the cut scar on Nasuha's wrist.

Nasuha noticed and quickly hid it, shifting her gaze to the Milo cup in her hand.

"I've already burdened you enough."

"It's my fault too, Nasuha."

"No... Don't."

"But it's true, right? You can't lie to me that you don't think I'm at fault too..."

They both fell silent. Nasuha finished her Milo and tightly gripped the cup's handle.

"I want to disappear. Just leave this place. I want to run away from all this, but I'm scared. Where can I go? Khairul... I'm just scared." Nasuha's voice turned hoarse, and her eyes glistened with tears. Khairul closed his eyes for a moment.

He thought about the time he pulled Nasuha back from jumping, his mother's smile, and... every time he was beaten by his father.

"I feel the same as you. Not a single day goes by without me wishing I could just die," Khairul said, and Nasuha turned to look at him.

"I should have died... Died with my mother in that accident. But I'm alive."

"Khairul... What are you saying? It's not your fault..." Nasuha was confused.

"No matter how you put it, I don't feel like I deserve to live. I want to run away too. Run away from all this. The pain in my head... from that old man." Khairul's expression turned angry for a moment, and Nasuha just looked at him. Her hand slowly reached for Khairul's face, but she stopped herself.

"Khai, let's run away together. We'll go as far as we can. I don't care anymore; I just want to be far away from here." Nasuha urged.

"I told you... I'm not a good person. Everything I do will only hurt others. I don't want to hurt you anymore," Khairul sighed, but Nasuha ignored all his words and hugged him tightly.

"I told you, I don't care anymore... Just take me away, please. Whatever happens, I'll take responsibility," Nasuha pleaded. Khairul looked conflicted, placing his hand on Nasuha's hand and gently pushing it away.

Nasuha's expression turned sad; in her mind, Khairul was rejecting what she was asking.

"You'll have to wear my old clothes, okay?" Khairul asked. A smile spread across Nasuha's face.

"Hmm... I don't mind." she replied, and Khairul simply nodded.

"Yes, Nasuha still isn't home. Okay, I understand, teacher. I'll go to school to pick up her things." Nasuha's father was on the phone with one of her teachers. He hurried to grab the car keys and left his house, noticing that the rain had lightened to a drizzle.

"Astaghfirullah... Where have you gone, Nasuha?" As soon as he entered the car, Nasuha's father realized the heaviness of the situation he was facing. He rested his head against the car seat.

"D-Don't touch me... I'm tired..."

He thought back to the moment he slapped Nasuha's face. Nasuha's father rubbed his head before letting out a long sigh.

"Please, Nasuha. Give your father a chance."

Khairul and Nasuha stepped out of his house, both carrying backpacks. Khairul wore a black jacket, while Nasuha was dressed in a raincoat.

"Ready to do something stupid?"

"Well, I asked you to, so... let's go." Nasuha gave a bitter smile as she looked at Khairul.

"Good thing I just got paid. I have plenty of money." Khairul said, putting on a brand-new helmet.

"I'll pay you back, I promise." Nasuha wore an old yellow helmet. They both mounted the motorcycle, and Khairul took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"Hold on tight... because if we're going to run, I won't be going slow, right?" Khairul advised.

"Ah... okay..." Nasuha replied, gripping the handle at the back of Khairul's motorcycle tightly.

Khairul accelerated the motorcycle out of his yard and sped down their neighborhood road. Nasuha, somewhat startled, placed one hand on Khairul's shoulder.

"W-Wow, so fast!"

"I told you! It can't be slow!"

Nasuha surrendered and tightened her grip on the motorcycle's handle. Khairul overtook several vehicles as they entered the main road. He slowed down the motorcycle a bit, allowing Nasuha to finally relax for a moment.

"W-What the heck... Fuh, I wasn't ready for that..." Nasuha sighed.

"Hang in there... We haven't had to stop for a roadblock yet; luckily, my face looks mature enough..." Khairul replied.

"That's right, isn't it? I thought you were in Form 5 the first time I talked to you and saw you."

"Whatever, just be ready... I'm going to speed up again."

"Okay, okay."

Khairul accelerated again, and they sped along the wet road from the earlier rain. They even passed by Nasuha's father's car, which was on the same road.

"Aish... Crazy driving fast here," Nasuha's father sighed, unaware that his daughter was on the motorcycle.

"Don't do anything stupid while I'm not around."

Khairul recalled Hazim's last message before they set off. He sent a text to Hazim using his phone, which had a cracked screen.

You: Hazim, I might not be able to come to work when you get back.

You: I'm about to do something stupid now.

He didn't even look at the message; he didn't know if he would now or not. Sorry, Hazim.

I always cause trouble; I'm foolish. But someone is counting on me... She means a lot to me right now.

She wants to run away from here. I felt the same way before, but I thought I wouldn't have the strength. But she hugs someone as messed up as me.