Suddenly, Rumi feels something strange.
As if someone is calling him… without making a sound.
He slowly lifts his tired neck and looks toward the old man.
Their eyes meet.
There is fear and a silent question inside Rumi's large eyes.
But the old man says nothing.
Between the deep wrinkles on his face, a faint smile appears — not a frightening one… but a strangely comforting one.
He slightly bows his head, as if giving Rumi a silent message.
Then he slowly turns around and disappears into the dusty path.
Rumi scrunches his tiny nose and keeps watching him go.
He doesn't understand why that stranger smiled at him.
But after that smile, his heartbeat becomes calmer.
For the first time in this cruel world, he feels like someone looked at him without seeing a "monster."
After some more hard work, luck finally shines on Rumi.
One by one, he finds several plastic bottles, broken glass pieces, and old metal scraps.
For others, it's garbage.
For him, it's treasure.
His small sack grows heavier.
A bright sparkle fills his big eyes.
The dull yellow color disappears, and his iris slowly shifts into a soft sky-blue shade — the color of his happiness.
He jumps slightly like a small child.
Without caring about his dusty green shirt, he waves his hands in the air and talks to himself in his cute, innocent tone:
"Wow! Rumi… you did amazing today! Look at all this treasure! Mommy won't be angry today… and luca will get warm food!"
Just then—
"Grrr… gud-gud…"
A soft sound comes from his stomach.
He presses his tiny hand over his belly and pouts.
"Uff… but Rumi is very hungry too. There are mice running in my stomach. Come on, Rumi… let's go quickly."
He smiles with his cherry-red lips and tries to lift the heavy sack onto his fragile shoulders.
His legs tremble.
Still, he drags the sack all the way to the scrap shop.
When Rumi reaches the small scrap store, his sky-blue eyes are still shining.
The shopkeeper — William Uncle (40 years old) — looks up.
For a moment, he stiffens.
He has heard the rumors too… about the changing eyes… about the "demon boy."
But when his gaze falls on Rumi's innocent face and soft smile, his heart softens.
He doesn't see a devil.
He sees a fragile fifteen-year-old child.
William Uncle (gently):
"So… what treasure did you bring today, Rumi?"
Rumi drops the sack with a soft thud and wipes sweat from his tiny nose.
"Uncle! Today Rumi brought a lot of treasure! Maybe today Rumi will get a full meal!"
William Uncle feels something painful tighten in his chest.
He silently begins weighing the scrap.
Rumi fidgets with the torn corners of his green shirt while watching every movement carefully.
He is waiting for those few coins.
Then—
In the quiet shop—
"GUUUD-GUUUD-GUUUD."
The sound echoes loudly.
It's Rumi's empty stomach crying out.
William Uncle looks up in surprise.
Rumi's face turns bright red.
He presses both hands against his thin belly, trying to silence it.
His sky-blue iris slowly shifts into a soft pink shade — the color of embarrassment.
"S-Sorry… Uncle. Rumi's stomach is very naughty. It makes loud sounds. Rumi is really very hungry…"
That tiny, honest confession melts William Uncle completely.
He doesn't believe the monster stories anymore.
He only sees a starving, delicate boy twisting the buttons of his green shirt nervously.
William Uncle instinctively reaches out to pat Rumi's soft brown wolf-cut hair… but hesitates when he notices the magical shimmer in those eyes.
Instead, he quickly counts some coins.
Then, from a small old box in the corner, he takes out a packet of cream biscuits.
He hands both to Rumi with a gentle smile.
"Rumi son, you worked very hard today. Here is your money… and eat something first."
Rumi freezes.
No one… has ever given him something extra.
His eyes slowly widen.
The pink shade fades… and a soft golden glow flickers inside them for a brief second.
"F-For me…?"
His hands tremble as he takes the biscuit packet.
He holds it carefully — as if it is made of glass.
Before opening it, he looks at William Uncle.
"Can… can Rumi take this home? Chirag likes cream biscuits…"
William Uncle's throat tightens.
He nods.
"You're a good big brother."
Rumi smiles — the purest smile in the world.
And for the first time that day…
He doesn't look like a broken toy thrown away by the world.
He looks like light.....
Rumi stares at the cream biscuit packet as if it is some kind of miracle.
He is hesitant.
Everyone calls him a monster… so why is someone helping him?
Twisting the corner of his torn green shirt around his fingers, he asks softly,
"William Uncle… why are you helping Rumi? Rumi gave scrap, you gave money… but these biscuits? Rumi doesn't take things from anyone like this."
Life has forced him to grow up too early.
His self-respect is clear in his trembling voice.
William Uncle smiles gently and softly pats his brown wolf-cut hair.
"Arrey beta, this isn't help. I bought these biscuits for my son, but he doesn't like this flavor. If you take them, they won't go to waste. And listen…"
He picks up a warm packet from beside him. The rich smell of Manchurian fills the air.
"Today I brought this Manchurian too, but my son left without eating in anger. If you don't take it, it will spoil. Won't you help William Uncle?"
Rumi's eyes slowly shift from pink to a deep purple shade — the color of comfort and trust.
He inhales the delicious smell, scrunches his tiny nose, then lifts his chin proudly.
"Okay… if that's the case, then Rumi will help you! Otherwise your food will get wasted, right?"
He accepts the packet with tiny royal pride.
In that moment, the cursed boy of the slums looks like the happiest little prince in the world.
As he turns the corner of the alley, his eyes glow bright orange — the color of overwhelming joy and hope.
But the moment he steps inside his house…
That happiness shatters.
His stepsister, Mookda, wrinkles her nose in disgust.
"Ugh! You smell disgusting, Rumi! Like rotten garbage. And what's that in your hand?"
Hearing her voice, her mother, Nalinee Vongchai, walks out with her usual expression of irritation.
"So the cursed one is back. Tell me quickly — how much money did you get today?"
Rumi shrinks slightly.
The orange glow in his eyes begins fading.
He already knows what will happen.
Today William Uncle gave him 400 baht — a huge amount.
Nalinee's eyes gleam greedily at the sight of the money.
But Rumi had prepared.
Before entering the house, he secretly hid 200 baht inside the torn inner fold of his green shirt.
It hurts him to hide his own hard-earned money.
But if he doesn't… there will be nothing left for luca's medicine and milk.
With shaking hands, he gives the remaining 200 baht to Nalinee.
His eyes fill with tears.
He quietly tries to walk toward luca's room, holding the food tightly to his chest.
All he wants… is for the Manchurian and biscuits to reach his little brother safely.
Mookda may call him filthy…
But she cannot ignore the delicious smell coming from the warm packet.
The moment she realizes what it is, greed flashes in her eyes.
She suddenly steps in front of him.
Rumi gasps and hugs the packet tightly against his chest.
The orange color in his eyes completely disappears.
It turns into a fearful gray.
Mookda screams,
"Ohhh! So you brought a feast today? Give it to me! I'll eat it."
Rumi's voice trembles.
"No… please, Mookda didi… it's not for Rumi. Luca has a high fever… he's hungry… Rumi brought this for him. Please don't take it…"
Tears gather in his big eyes.
He clutches the packet harder with his fragile fingers.
But there is no mercy in Mookda's heart.
She twists his thin wrist harshly.
Rumi cries out in pain.
His grip loosens.
In one swift motion, she snatches both the Manchurian and the cream biscuits.
The force pushes him backward.
He falls onto the floor.
His brown hair falls over his eyes as he sits there, trying to silence his sobs.
Mookda opens the packet casually.
"luca's doesn't need this. He has a fever. If he eats heavy food, he'll get worse. This is mine now."
Rumi remains on his knees.
Staring at his empty hands.
The Manchurian he earned with pride…
The biscuits he accepted with dignity…
Are being eaten by someone else right in front of him.
Tears roll down his pale cheeks, leaving clear trails through the dust.
His breathing becomes uneven.
His hands tremble.
And slowly—
Very slowly—
The gray in his eyes begins to darken.
Not into yellow.
Not into blue.
But into something deeper.
Something ancient.
A faint, dangerous shimmer flickers within his irises.
The air in the room feels heavier.
Nalinee frowns slightly.
"Why is it suddenly so cold?"
Rumi's tears stop.
He lowers his head.
His fingers curl slowly against the floor.
And for the first time—
The boy who endured everything quietly…
Feels something else rising inside him.
Something that does not want to stay silent anymore.
Continue....