CHAPTER FOUR
The Parts of Him
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"And did you see how he moved in that fight?" The smaller boy practically bounced where he sat, arms flailing like he was still dodging imaginary strikes. "Like a ghost, I swear! Those guards didn't know whether to swing or shit themselves!"
His older brother laughed, wide-eyed. "Never seen anything like it. He fights like he's got eyes in the back of his soul."
The younger boy leaned in, his face glowing with excitement. "That's why he's way cooler than you."
A beat. "...I mean, you're cool too, obviously. But brother Abo is just awesome"
The older boy snorted and ruffled his hair. "Alright, alright. I get it. He's the new favorite" He looked past the firelight, toward the quiet figure sitting apart. "You hear that, Abo? Looks like you've got a little brother now."
But Abo didn't answer. He sat still, eyes blind but pointed at some faraway place no one else could see. Around him, laughter softened, then died. The voices drifted, forgotten.
And in the silence—
He heard her, that laugh. Soft and warm, like the first light's touch at dawn, before his skin burned.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The earth cracked beneath their feet, dry as old bone, each step left a print in the dust. Kalayo moved carefully. Init, less so, he darted ahead, clutching a lump of hardened mud shaped like a fish. He held it up, swooping through the air.
"Big brother! I heard something!" His voice cut the stillness.
"Quiet," Kalayo hissed. "If we're lucky, it's a rat. If we're not, it's something worse."
The swamp stretched around them, brown and parched. Nothing moved but the buzz of insects and the low hum of heat.
"Kalayo, look!" Init pointed.
A boy lay half-buried in the mud. Dried clay coated his arms and face, thick and uneven, as if he'd smeared it on himself. His ribs pushed against the hardened layer, sharp beneath the crust.
Kalayo squatted beside him. "Hey... what are you doing out here?"
The boy didn't move for a long moment. Then, eyes opened, slow, sticky, bloodshot.
"Leave me alone." His voice sounded like bark peeling off a dying tree.
Kalayo glanced at Init, then back. "You dying or just resting?"
No answer.
"We're looking for food. My brother hasn't eaten in two days. Maybe you—"
"There's nothing here," the boy said. "Swamp's dry. Has been."
"How long you been lying there?"
A shrug... or maybe just a breath.
Kalayo knelt to help him up, but the boy stayed limp, heavy as guilt.
"Stubborn bastard," Kalayo muttered, giving up. "Come on, Init. We tried."
They walked away. The boy lay still, eyes closed again, breath thin as thread. The sound of their footsteps faded until it was just heat and buzzing again.
He lost track of time. Might've dozed, might've died for a bit.
Then—
"There he is!"
That voice again. The boy groaned.
"Told you already. There's nothing to eat, you dumb little shit."
Stupid kids, he thought. Might as well try to catch a fly with their bare hands.
But the footsteps came anyway. They were close now.
A shape knelt beside him. A scent hit his nose, sharp and sweet. His stomach clenched and growled, loud enough to be heard, loud enough to humiliate.
"It was Init's idea," Kalayo said. "We found food. Brought the extra."
He hated them for it, hated the warmth in their voices, hated how his fingers reached for the food before he could stop them. His fingers brushed something soft. He pressed, peeled, and felt it on his skin. Then he brought it to his nose. Fruit. But under the sweetness, there was blood. It was definitely stolen. He ate like a dog in winter, fast and fingers shaking.
Their faces said it all, horror and pity, as mud flaked from Abo's arms, revealing pale skin, red and blistered from the sun. They dug up a body and found it breathing, a boy's ghost wrapped in burned, peeling flesh.
"What's your name?" Init asked quietly.
He paused, that word felt foreign now. "Abo."
The word scraped out like it had rust on it.
"My name's Abo."
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End of Chapter