Habeel's boots crunched over the gravel as they walked, the early morning cold seeping through every layer of fabric. He glanced sideways at Sulaiman, brow furrowed."Is he always like this?"
Sulaiman let out a long, tired breath, his shoulders sagging the moment they were out of the commander's line of sight. He looked at Habeel, then at Ababeel, and finally spoke, voice low, hoarse with weariness."No."
Habeel frowned. "Then why now?"
A shadow crossed Sulaiman's face. He hesitated, jaw tight, gaze fixed on the dirt beneath his feet."Look… the bombing started in a region under his command. He tried saving as many as he could. Pulled people out with his own hands. But he still lost many of his men on the field."
He shook his head slightly, as if the weight of it pressed down physically."He blames himself every day. Even though—how could he possibly know this would happen?"
Habeel's expression softened, the edge of judgment falling away."So he sees himself in me?"
Sulaiman shrugged gently. "Perhaps. Many of my friends died too… since then, he's been lenient with me. But to show authority, he has to stay stern. If he breaks, we all break with him."
Shame flickered across Habeel's face. "I feel bad for shouting at him last time. He really tried his best."
Sulaiman's lips curved into a faint, sad smile. "Anyway… if you join the forces and he becomes your commander, you'll learn a lot. You'll enjoy it too. But he'll work you to the bone. He doesn't like young people like us throwing away our life opportunities."
Habeel nodded silently. The engines of the trucks rumbled ahead, sunlight glinting off metal like dull silver. The camp was stirring—soldiers moving in choreographed chaos, the smell of fuel thick in the crisp air.
He and Ababeel climbed into the back of the transport truck. Canvas flaps fluttered softly in the breeze, creating a suspended, almost sacred silence. When Sulaiman's voice called him back to the commander's tent, he jogged off, leaving them alone.
As his footsteps faded, Ababeel turned to Habeel.
"Since when did you apply to join the army?"
Habeel lowered his gaze to the floor of the truck.
"Well… I can't really continue my studies," he said slowly. "And after everything we went through out there, I realised how much I love my family. If this lets my younger brothers live the childhood we lost—then I'll do anything."
He paused, swallowing.
"Especially for Janneh. I want to give her everything myself. Not by leaning on my father's shoulders."
His ears burned red as he continued, eyes widening with sudden nerves.
"And… I wanted to ask if I could speak to your parents."
Ababeel blinked. "For what?"
Their eyes met. Habeel's ears flushed, then he looked away.
Habeel dug into his bag, fingers trembling slightly. He pulled out a tiny folded dress—soft fabric, the colour of warm morning sunshine. A frock, Janneh's size, bright yellow. It trembled in his hands like a fragile promise.
"Will she like it…?" His voice cracked almost imperceptibly."She told me she likes yellow. So… I bought it for her. For Eid."
Habeel's eyes sought Ababeel's, earnest and loyal, full of quiet fear, desperate faith, and a brother's unwavering love." Is it good?" he whispered.
The dress seemed to glow softly between them, carrying all the hope he dared not speak aloud.
Before Ababeel could answer, a group of soldiers shoved into the truck. Habeel quickly shoved the frock back into his bag, sitting rigid, guilty, like a child caught stealing candy.
Commander Ahmed appeared at the back flap, smirking."You two. Front. You're leading the way."
He deliberately placed Habeel beside him, close enough that the rookie could smell his aftershave and fear simultaneously. Habeel's eyes flicked to Ababeel—a silent, pleading message: Help me.
Ababeel muffled a laugh behind her hand as the truck roared to life.
Ahmed tapped the map spread across his knee with a casual authority that made Habeel jump as if electrocuted."T–that way… then straight ahead, sir…" Habeel stammered.
"You sure?" Ahmed raised a brow, eyes sharp as razors. "Because if you get us lost, I'll make you redraw every mountain in this country by hand."
Habeel swallowed audibly. The driver shifted, sensing the tension.
Ahmed's gaze fell on the rabbit plushie Ababeel clutched. For a heartbeat, his expression softened."It's hers?"
Ababeel nodded.
Ahmed's jaw clenched, voice dropping low, almost a growl."We'll find her… if she's alive."
The words landed like stones in the chest, striking the same resolve Habeel carried in his heart. For a fleeting moment, Ahmed sounded exactly like Habeel himself—raw, relentless, refusing to give up.
Ababeel caught the resemblance, startled. Ahmed noticed, instantly turning away, barking: "EVERYONE KNOWS THEIR WORK, RIGHT!"YE ,S SIR!"
A dark chuckle escaped him."Sulaiman! You owe me fifty laps."
Sulaiman nearly collapsed."Yes, sir… I'm doomed," he muttered.
Ahmed's eagle-sharp hearing caught it. "MAKE IT 80!"
Sulaiman shut his eyes. "…Yes, sir."
Up front, Habeel felt the commander's stare slice into him like a knife forged from expectation and trauma.
In the therapy room, the questions came softly, each one a probe into memory and fear."So did Habeel know the place? Did you find Janneh? Did you save them?"
Ababeel exhaled, a shiver in her chest."After a long drive… yes. We found it. That wretched place really did look like a jail."
Ahmed had ordered the men out, then pointed at Habeel like lightning."If I see you outside without my permission, I WILL PUT YOU IN A CELL MYSELF."
Habeel froze. Eyes darted from Ababeel to the door, to the soldiers, then back. Knees bounced, nail chewed—a trapped puppy caught between obedience and instinct.
The therapist chuckled softly. "Anyone would panic in his place."
Moments later, Ahmed returned, cradling a child in his arms."It's safe. Help us gather the rest."
Habeel's entire body lit up. He nearly bolted—but Ahmed's hand stopped him, pressing against his chest."Since you helped me save them, I'll punish you less."
Blinking, shocked, confused, and touched, Habeel finally followed Ababeel.
Inside, Ababeel's voice rang through the room."JANNEH!!"
A small, sobbing voice answered. Janneh emerged, eyes swollen, sprinting straight into Ababeel's arms. She knelt, holding the girl tightly. Habeel hung back, respectful, trembling with relief—until he saw a survivor, barely conscious, clutching a weapon.
"ABABEEL!" he shouted, launching forward, arms outstretched like wings of a guardian angel. He shielded both girls as the enemy raised the weapon, ready to strike.
Later, in the therapy room, the young therapist leaned in."Do you want to know what happened next?"
Ababeel's eyes glistened."No… I have a good idea."
A pause lingered, heavy with unspoken emotion."If we had met in any other circumstances… I would have told him how much he changed my life. That everything before him seems meaningless now."
The young man swallowed."You can start over again… here."
Ababeel stood, walking away, stepping into the sunlit garden. The therapist watched her leave, a quiet understanding settling over him.
And then—As Habeel arranged two books on a shelf, a presence slipped behind him. He didn't turn."Name?"
A familiar, breathless voice said: "Habeel ibn Hawa."
The young man smirked. "You're late."
Habeel blinked. "You… you were expecting me?"
"Many asked where the 'Habeel' in her story was."
Stepping closer, Habeel asked, heart thumping. "You… you know me?"
The man's smile was knowing, almost teasing."Better than you know yourself."
Habeel's eyes widened. "Where's Janneh?"
"Home."
"My home?"
A nod.
"Did the commander say something?" Habeel exhaled.
"He picked me up—literally—and hugged Janneh. I told him to give her to my parents… because I was bleeding."
He chuckled softly. "Then he cried and screamed at Sulaiman to fetch the medic."
"He said I was his to take."
The young man raised a brow. "And you?"
"I told him I am God's to take. Besides… he has thousands more to save later."
A grin.
Habeel glanced around. "I think Sulaiman has a hundred laps now."
He hesitated. "Is Ababeel here?"
The man nodded toward the door. "In the garden."
Habeel stepped forward."Which one?"
A soft chuckle."Just walk out, Habeel ibn Hawa."