The journey back from Wak Rembo's house was heavy with an overwhelming silence. Haya pedaled slowly, utterly consumed by his own turbulent thoughts. The village track was desolate, but he hadn't gone far from the old ranger's boundary when the air around him abruptly bottomed out, growing thick and freezing cold once again.
Through the dense morning mist, a familiar silhouette materialized on the dirt road ahead.
It was that same little girl in the very same tattered attire. But this time, something was different. She wasn't staring at Haya with a terrifying gaze, nor was she actively acknowledging his presence. Instead, she moved like a projection—a vivid, beautifully rendered movie scene replaying directly in front of his eyes. It was a fragment of a lost memory, made terrifyingly real.
She was alone. Her censored face was turned to Haya as she walked down the path, casually swinging her legs with a carefree, rhythmic stride. But as Haya tracked her movement, a cold spike of panic hit his chest. They weren't traveling in the same direction. Haya was heading back toward the safety of the village plains, but the girl was moving steadily to the base of Bukit Tajam.
She began to whistle a soft, melodic tune, the sound floating effortlessly through the damp air as they closed the distance between each other. Haya gripped his handlebars, his heart hammering against his ribs as he forced himself to ride past the specter.
The exact moment their shoulders crossed, the girl's whistling stopped.
"Will... Haya come?" she asked.
The voice didn't echo in the wind; it resonated cleanly inside his skull. Shock vibrated through Haya's entire body. He violently jammed his feet against the dirt, braking his bicycle so hard the rear tire skidded sideways. Thankfully, he didn't crash.
Whipping his head around in absolute desperation, his eyes scrambled across the road. The voice continued to drift through the space behind him, followed by a soft, playful giggle.
"I'll wait either way, though... hehe."
As the final note of her giggle faded, the white mist suddenly cleared out all at once, leaving only the ordinary, sunlit palm trees in its wake. The girl was completely gone.
Haya sat frozen on his bicycle, a deep, paralyzing confusion locking his muscles. Should I go to the mountain right now? he questioned himself, looking over his shoulder toward the dark peaks. What do I even do there? Will I see more hallucinations like this? Are these my actual memories?
He shook his head violently to break the trance. No. If I do that, I'm going to be late. It's almost time for Amar to wake up!
"Haish!"
Frustrated and unable to process the mental overload any further, Haya slammed his feet back onto the pedals. He kicked his pedals as hard as his aching legs could bear, desperate to outrun the ghost and make it home before his absence was discovered.
Arriving at the house, Haya threw his bicycle back into the relative concealment of the shed as fast as humanly possible. He took a deep, stabilizing breath, tightened the straps of his backpack, and slipped through the back entrance. He dashed up the wooden stairs, making a hard line for his bedroom.
Just as his fingers wrapped around his doorknob, a sharp latch clicked to his right.
"Yo, Haya. Where are you going?"
Amar's bedroom door swung open. He stepped out into the corridor, fully awake, his eyes instantly locking onto his younger brother.
Haya's stomach dropped, his heart leaping into his throat. He forced his body to look relaxed, leaning against his doorframe. "Eh... I was just thinking about going for a ride on my bike." Why did I say that? At this exact time?!
Amar raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in Haya's appearance. "Heh... why are you in such a hurry, though?"
"Eh? W-why are you saying that?" Haya stammered, his palms sweating. Oh no. Am I busted? Did he see me leave?
"Why?" Amar chuckled lightly, gesturing toward Haya's torso. "You didn't even bother to wipe down your body, did you? Your shirt is completely drenched."
Haya looked down, realizing his clothes were soaked through from the morning fog and his frantic, panicked ride back from the plantation. "Oh. Now that you mention it..." He let out a microscopic exhale. Huff... safe.
"But I think I'll pass on the ride for today," Haya added quickly, trying to sound casual.
"Ooo. Alright. Come downstairs later, I'm going out to buy some breakfast," Amar said, turning back toward the stairs.
"Okay."
The moment Amar turned the corner, Haya entered his bedroom and locked the door behind him with a quiet click. He slumped against the wood, letting out a massive breath. Fuuuh... safe.
He pulled at his damp hoodie, grimacing. Haish, I'm sticky all over. He listened intently at the door until the distinct, throaty roar of Amar's motorcycle engine echoed from the driveway, signaling his departure.
Now's my chance!
Haya hurriedly stripped off his damp, mud-scented clothes, wrapped a towel around his waist, and barged out of his room, rushing toward the bathroom located at the far end of the upstairs corridor, right near his mother's room.
As he rounded the sharp corner at full speed, a figure stepped directly into his path.
"Wah?!" Haya yelled, jumping back in absolute shock.
"Don't scare me like that!" Inari shrieked, clutching her chest.
Haya's heart was pounding. He had assumed it was Amar returning early, but it was just his younger sister, who had just finished taking her morning bath. Her hair was wrapped in a towel, and she was glaring at him with immediate hostility.
"You really love to make a fuss early in the morning, don't you?" Inari snapped, her tone dripping with annoyance.
"Sorry. I thought you were Amar," Haya mumbled, shifting his weight uncomfortably.
"Humph." Inari brushed past him with a cold shoulder, retreating into her bedroom and slamming the door shut.
Haya stared at her closed door for a second, thoroughly irritated. What is up with her being angry all the time? Shaking his head, he slipped into the bathroom and finally took his shower.
Fresh from his bath and dressed in clean clothes, Haya walked downstairs to get some breakfast.
The atmosphere in the dining room was surprisingly loud. Inari and Amar were already seated at the table, sharing a lively, animated chatter over a spread of fresh roti canai that Amar had brought back.
"Yo, Haya! Come here now, fast," Amar called out with a grin, tearing off a piece of bread. "If you don't hurry up, Inari is going to eat everything that's left."
"Yeah, yeah, I will! For sure I will!" Inari piped up, her voice shifting into a deliberately provoking, mocking tone the exact second her eyes landed on Haya.
"Okay, I'm eating. So don't touch mine," Haya muttered, pulling out a chair and sitting down.
The lively chatter died instantly. The table plunged into a dense, awkward silence, the only sound being the soft scraping of plates and the chewing of food.
Amar looked between his two younger siblings, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "This is... kind of awkward, isn't it?"
Inari swallowed her food, looking defensive. "Eh? Why out of the blue?"
"..." Haya kept his mouth full, refusing to look up from his plate, his eyes darting between the two of them.
"Well, I just want to have some conversation," Amar continued, trying to ease the tension. "Can we talk?"
"Huumph." Inari let out a sharp, bitter sound. She turned her head slowly, her eyes flashing with a sudden fury as she glared directly at Haya. "You should be sorry about yesterday," she started, her voice cutting through the room like a blade.
Haya paused, his fork hovering.
"You're an adult now, aren't you?" Inari pressed, her eyes narrowing. "So act like one, will you?!"
The irritation from the morning finally pushed Haya over the edge. He slammed his fork down. "What is with you, being angry at me all the time?! I already said sorry to Mom earlier"
"Heh... how thoughtful of you," Inari mocked, her voice dripping with venomous sarcasm as she leaned forward. "Cleaning up your own little mess, I see. What a genius!"
"What is your problem?!" Haya snapped, his voice rising.
"Both of you, stop it right now!" Amar intervened, slamming his hand lightly on the table.
But Haya couldn't hold it back anymore. The hypocrisy of his family was suffocating him. "Ahhh, talking about being mature? What about you, Inari? Why did you run away when I asked you a simple question last night? Talk about being mature, I see... running away from me!"
"Stop it, Haya!" Amar yelled, trying to shield Inari.
"Shut it! Just shut your mouth!" Inari shouted back, her voice cracking.
Haya looked up, startled to see that her eyes were suddenly bright with unshed, tearing tears. Her face was flushed with a mixture of raw anger and deep, hidden pain. Without another word, she shoved her chair back, stood up, and rushed out of the dining room, her frantic footsteps pounding up the stairs before her bedroom door slammed shut.
The dining room fell into a miserable silence. Amar let out a long, heavy sigh, rubbing his face with his hands. "Haish... you shouldn't have said that, Haya."
"She's the one who started it!" Haya defended himself, his chest heaving with frustration. "Acting as if she knows everything!"
"You're her brother, Haya," Amar said, his voice dropping into a tired, solemn tone. "You have to stay calm, man."
"Haish..." Amar scratched the back of his head, staring blankly at the leftover food.
Haya slouched in his chair, his appetite completely gone. He stared at his hands, the weight of the police report upstairs heavily pulling at his consciousness.
"Is it really that wrong for me to ask?" Haya whispered, his voice suddenly hollow, stripped of all its anger. "To just want to know who I am?"
Amar looked up, the frustration leaving his face, replaced by a deep, heartbreaking sorrow. "No... it's not like that, Haya. Even if she says harsh things like that... she cares for you the most, you know? Inari cares about you."
Haya let out a bitter, joyless chuckle. "What part of that looked like she cares for me, Amar?"
"Haya..." Amar started, his voice thick with unsaid truths, desperate to bridge the gap but completely bound by the secrets he was forced to keep.
"It's okay, Amar," Haya interrupted quietly, standing up from the table. He looked around the quiet, shadow-drenched kitchen one last time. "It's not your fault."
It doesn't matter anyway, Haya thought to himself, his mind drifting toward the hidden folder in his room. He turned and walked away, leaving his older brother alone at the table.
Amar sat in the suffocating quiet of the dining room, his head sinking into his hands. His mind was spinning in absolute, terrifying chaos, a profound dread gripping his chest as he stared at the empty chairs of his fractured family.
Haish... how did it come to end up like this? Amar thought, terror gnawing at his soul. What should I do now?