The best part of Rono's day was dinner.
Not because of the food.
Because dinner was the one time everybody was sat together.
No school.
No work.
No phones.
No disappearing into separate rooms.
Just the four of them around the table.
His father always came home tired.
His mother always complained that he worked too much.
His sister always complained about everything.
And somehow, that was what made it feel warm.
"Pass the rice," his father said.
"Use your hands," his sister replied.
"Use your respect," their mother snapped immediately.
Rono laughed.
His father pointed at him.
"Don't laugh. You're worse than her."
"I am the most innocent person in this house," Rono said.
"You got a complaint from school last week," his mother said.
"That was not a complaint."
"You made a paper airplane and threw it at your teacher."
"I was testing wind resistance."
His sister burst out laughing.
"Scientist," she said dramatically.
"One day when I become rich and famous, none of you are allowed in my mansion."
"You still sleep with your mouth open," his sister replied.
"You still look like a frog when you cry."
"Maa!"
Their mother sighed.
"Both of you stop acting like animals."
His father grinned.
"Speaking of animals... Rono, who is Mira?"
Rono nearly choked on water.
His sister immediately looked up.
"WHO is Mira?"
"Nobody."
"Then why did Sayan's mother tell your mother that some girl laughed at you today and you nearly died?"
Rono stared at them in horror.
"How does gossip travel this fast?"
His father laughed so hard he almost dropped his spoon.
"So there is a girl!"
"Ask me about exams," Rono said weakly.
"Why would I ask about exams? You top the class anyway. This is more important."
"There is nothing important happening!"
His sister leaned forward with the most evil smile imaginable.
"Do you imagine your children together?"
"I hate this family."
His mother smacked the back of his father's head lightly.
"Stop teasing him."
"I'm helping him," his father said.
"One day he will thank me."
"One day I will leave this house and never return."
"No you won't," his sister said.
Rono looked up.
"Why not?"
She shrugged.
"Because no matter how annoying we are, you love us too much."
For a second, nobody said anything.
Then his father smiled.
"She's right."
His mother reached over and fixed Rono's messy hair.
"Eat your food before it gets cold."
And just like that, the moment passed.
Because that was family.
You never knew when you were living inside a memory.
That night, Rono stood in the balcony outside his room.
The neighbourhood was quiet.
A few dogs barked somewhere far away.
The sky was clear.
His telescope stood near the railing, pointed toward the moon.
His room behind him was full of books.
Physics.
Astronomy.
Mathematics.
Old science magazines.
Charts of planets taped onto the wall.
His father walked out holding two cups of tea.
"Still awake?"
"Yeah."
He handed one cup to Rono.
They stood beside each other in silence for a moment.
"You're nervous," his father said.
Rono looked down at his tea.
"Olympiad results are next month."
"I know."
"What if I don't make it?"
His father leaned against the railing.
"Then you don't make it."
Rono frowned.
"That's your big speech?"
His father laughed quietly.
"You think too much."
"Easy for you to say."
His father smiled and said, "Listen son. I trust you. I trust the work you've put in. I trust how badly you want it."
Rono stayed quiet.
His father took a sip of tea.
"But if you don't win, nothing changes. You are still my son. Your mother still loves you too much. Your sister will still annoy you every day. We will still be here."
Rono looked at him.
"You really think I can do it?"
"I think if anybody can, it's you."
The wind blew softly.
The moonlight reflected in the telescope lens.
His father nudged him with his shoulder.
"And if you become a big scientist one day, don't forget us normal people."
Rono smiled.
"Depends."
"On what?"
"Whether you stop asking about girls."
His father laughed.
The sound stayed with Rono long after they went back inside.
*
"Dad?"
Nothing.
"Ma?"
Nothing.
Rono stared at his father's body.
Then his mother's.
Then his sister's.
No.
No.
This was wrong.
He tried checking pulses, heartbeats, running around frantically to each of them. Nothing.
This was impossible.
This was some kind of joke.
A nightmare.
A hallucination.
Something.
Anything.
He stumbled toward his father first.
"Dad..."
He grabbed his shoulder.
Shook him.
"Dad, wake up."
Nothing.
"Dad."
Harder.
"Dad!"
His father's head rolled slightly to the side.
His eyes stayed open.
Looking at nothing.
Rono felt something crack inside his chest.
He stumbled backward.
"No no no no no..."
He turned toward his mother.
"Ma."
He dropped beside her.
Her hand was stretched out.
Toward the kitchen.
Toward nothing.
Rono grabbed it.
Cold.
Too cold.
His mother's hands were never cold.
They were always warm.
Always moving.
Always pulling his hair.
Always fixing his collar.
Always holding his face.
Now it just lay there.
Dead weight.
"Ma, stop..."
His voice broke.
"Please stop joking."
He squeezed her hand harder. Should would always hold his hand when he would holder her's tight like this.
"Please."
Nothing.
He slapped himself.
Once.
Twice.
Hard.
His face burned.
"Wake up," he whispered.
Then louder.
"Wake up."
He slapped himself again.
"WAKE UP!"
He looked around wildly.
The room felt wrong.
The walls felt wrong.
The blood looked wrong.
Too much.
There was too much blood.
He started laughing.
A horrible, broken sound.
Because this couldn't be real.
It couldn't.
His mother had texted him less than an hour ago.
Buy eggs on your way home.
That was all.
Buy eggs.
That was not something people said before they died.
Rono looked toward the stairs.
His sister.
He ran to her.
Nearly slipped on the blood.
"Hey," he said desperately.
"Hey, come on."
He touched her shoulder.
Her body didn't move right.
Her neck bent too far.
Rono pulled his hand back instantly.
His breathing turned sharp.
He stared at her face.
This morning she had laughed at him.
This morning she had stolen food from his plate.
This morning she had called him ugly.
And now...
"No!"
He screamed so hard his throat tore.
"NO!"
He hit the wall.
Again.
Again.
Again.
His fist split open.
Blood mixed with blood.
"Why?!"
His voice cracked apart.
"Why?!"
He looked around the house wildly.
At the broken glass.
At the blood.
At the silence.
Who did this?
Who?
Why?
Why them?
Why his family?
Why his house?
His chest felt like it was being crushed.
He crawled back toward his mother.
Held her hand with both of his.
"Please," he whispered.
"Please don't leave me alone."
Tears dripped onto her fingers.
Nothing.
He looked at his father.
At his sister.
At the people who had made up his entire world.
His whole life.
Gone.
Just gone.
Rono slowly sank onto the floor.
His hands were covered in blood.
His clothes were covered in blood.
His face was covered in blood.
He didn't know how long he sat there.
Minutes.
Hours.
Time had stopped making sense.
Then he heard shouting outside.
Footsteps.
A woman screaming.
The neighbours.
Someone ran into the house.
Then another.
Then another.
Someone grabbed Rono's shoulders.
Someone was saying his name.
Someone was crying.
But Rono did not answer.
He just sat there on the floor. Tears did not fall, nor was there any expression, there was nothing but a blank stare.
Broken.
Like a part of him had died with them.