The marketplace was alive with sound and colour—vendors were calling out in sing-song voices, their stalls bursting with bright fruits, beautiful fabrics fluttering like colourful banners in the warm breeze, and the air was thick with the delightful smells of spices and sweet sugar.
Ishaan darted excitedly from stall to stall, his eyes wide as he took in the sizzling skewers roasting over hot, glowing coals, the carved stone arches that framed the market, and the mosaic tiles that glittered under the sun.
His older brother, Aaron, moved more slowly, his sketchbook tucked snugly under one arm. He paused often to draw the graceful spin of a dancer or the warm, tired smile of a vendor balancing shiny coins in his palm.
Ishaan couldn't help but devour the sights and sounds of the market with his big, bright eyes, while Aaron tried to capture the magic of it all on paper, piece by piece.
"You know," Aaron said with a smile as he drew a final line across the page, "it's been a while since I felt this… at ease, like everything's just right."
"Yeah!" Ishaan replied, grinning widely. "Feels good. Almost like—" He paused for a moment, looking mischievous. "—an anime. We just need some action to make it exciting!"
As if the world had heard his wish, a sharp cry suddenly sliced through the joyful chatter of the market.
"SOMEONE HELP!"
The brothers froze, their hearts racing.
"Stay away from us!" another voice rang out, steadier but dripping with fear.
Aaron's head whipped around, his expression turning serious. "Looks like you got your wish," he said, his eyes narrowing.
They ran toward the sound, quickening their pace.
In a narrow alley, they spotted two girls cornered against a wall. The older girl stood protectively in front, shielding the younger one, her weight leaning on one leg, as though she was hurt. Yet, she held herself strong and brave like a sturdy wall. The younger girl clutched her sister's arm, trembling with fear.
Six men loomed in front of them, grinning in a way that sent a chill through the air.
"No need to run," one of the men said, stepping forward with a sly smile. "We're just looking for a little company."
Another man chuckled, his voice low and ugly. "We'll be real… friendly."
Ishaan's grin turned sharp as he whispered to Aaron, "Six on two. The odds look terrible… for them."
Aaron cracked his knuckles, voice steady. "So much for a quiet vacation." His eyes locked onto the thugs, calm but dangerous.
"Ready?" Ishaan asked, bouncing on his heels.
Aaron's lips curved into a thin smile. "Let's remind them what Indians are made of."
The brothers exchanged a glance—then stepped forward, fists clenched.