The day started like any other.
Too quiet.
Too heavy.
Too normal.
And that was the problem.
Because nothing about their lives was supposed to feel normal anymore.
School corridors buzzed with noise.
Laughter. Conversations. Footsteps.
A world that kept moving… like nothing had changed.
But for them—
Everything had.
Ayaan walked ahead, his pace steady.
Zoya beside him.
The others trailing close.
Like always.
Like a system they had built without ever talking about it.
Stay together.
Stay safe.
Stay unseen.
It started small.
It always does.
A whisper.
"Look… it's them."
Another voice, louder this time—
"The abandoned ones."
A pause.
Then a laugh.
Low.
Mocking.
Hamza heard it.
Of course he did.
His steps slowed.
His hands curled into fists.
Ayaan noticed instantly.
"Keep walking."
Quiet. Controlled.
A warning.
Hamza didn't move.
"They think they can just say anything?" his voice shook—not with fear… but rage.
"Hamza."
"Why should I stay quiet?" he snapped. "Why do we always have to stay quiet?"
Because we can't afford not to.
Ayaan didn't say it out loud.
But it sat there.
Between them.
Heavy.
The next words crossed the line.
"If their parents wanted them… they wouldn't have left."
That was it.
Something snapped.
Hamza turned.
Fast.
Too fast.
Before anyone could stop him—
His fist collided with the boy's face.
A sharp sound echoed through the corridor.
Gasps followed.
Then chaos.
By the time Ayaan reached him, it was already too late.
Shouts. Teachers rushing in. Students crowding around.
Hamza stood there, breathing hard.
Eyes burning.
Not with regret.
With years of anger finally spilling out.
"They don't get to talk about them," he said, voice low, shaking.
"They don't get to—"
"Enough."
Ayaan's voice cut through everything.
Not loud.
But firm enough to stop him.
For a second… Hamza looked like a child again.
Lost.
Confused.
Then the moment passed.
And reality stepped in.
Office.
Silence.
Disappointment.
Words like discipline, behavior, guardianship thrown into the air like accusations.
"Where are your parents?"
The question came like a blade.
Ayaan didn't flinch.
"They're not here."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one."
A pause.
Judgment filled the room.
"You're too young to handle this."
That one sentence.
Simple.
True.
And completely useless.
Because whether he was too young or not—
He was already doing it.
They were sent home early.
All of them.
No arguments.
No second chances.
Just consequences.
The walk back felt longer than usual.
No one spoke.
Not even Saad.
Even he could feel it.
That something had gone wrong.
Inside the house, the silence returned.
But this time…
It wasn't calm.
It was suffocating.
Hamza stood near the wall, arms crossed.
Still angry.
Still burning.
"You shouldn't have done that."
Ayaan's voice was calm.
Too calm.
"And what? Let them say whatever they want?" Hamza shot back.
"Yes."
The word hit harder than a shout.
Hamza stared at him.
"You're okay with that?"
"No."
"Then why—"
"Because we don't have the luxury to fight."
That landed.
Hard.
Ayaan stepped closer.
"We don't have backup. We don't have people to defend us. We don't have anyone to fix things when they go wrong."
Each word… heavier than the last.
"So when you fight—"
He stopped.
Just for a second.
Then finished quietly—
"You're not just risking yourself. You're risking all of us."
Silence.
Thick.
Unavoidable.
Hamza's anger didn't disappear.
But something else replaced it.
Guilt.
"I was just…" his voice dropped, "I was just tired."
That was the truth.
Not anger.
Not violence.
Just…
tired.
Areeba started crying.
Soft at first.
Then louder.
"I don't like this…"
Noor moved closer to her.
Saad clung to Zoya.
Everything fragile… started shaking.
And just like that—
The strong front collapsed.
Zoya turned away, wiping her tears quickly.
But not fast enough.
Ayaan saw.
He always saw.
And for the first time—
He didn't know what to say.
Not to Hamza.
Not to Zoya.
Not to any of them.
Because the truth was—
They were all breaking.
At different speeds.
In different ways.
But breaking… nonetheless.
That night felt colder than the rest.
Even without the rain.
Even without the storm.
Because this time—
The damage wasn't outside.
It was inside the house.
Inside them.
Later, when everyone had fallen asleep…
Ayaan sat alone.
Again.
Same spot.
Same silence.
And he was thinking about the past when they were left behind.