NOVPUBJasmine kicked her little feet and stretched her arms wide.
"Wanna know a secret, big brother?"
He gave the faintest nod.
"I missed you more than you missed me!"
Malik let out a faint breath. Almost—almost—a laugh.
"…Never took you for someone so competitive."
"Only to you~."
"Hm."
With that, the night stretched on quietly as they watched the shimmering lake.
It was calm, serene, but not so much within Malik's mind.
He had many thousands of what-ifs raging in there.
The biggest one dominated them all...
What if he kept on going back then?
Kept trying to fix her; would he eventually figure out how?
Or was his being Corrupted before Layla a necessary prerequisite for this 'fix?'
Malik wanted to go back... he really wanted to go back... he could NOT handle another farewell, not now when he felt her warmth so closely once more.
His jaw worked, his teeth grinding against each other.
He didn't know how to alleviate these feelings of his.
They only grew worse as time went by, preventing him from enjoying this moment.
Jasmine, noticing how tense he had gotten, tilted her head back and looked at him.
Her eyes softened just as they met his face, making it seem like she immediately understood his struggle, even though she knew nothing of it.
"How many times do I have to say this?"
She was reprimanding him.
"It's not your fault, big brother. You tried. That's what matters... It's everything to me."
Malik offered no reply.
For a long moment after that, neither of them spoke.
They both continued to stare at the lake, enjoying each other's company, or at least trying to.
But eventually, the little girl sighed dramatically, flopped onto the grass, and rolled away.
"Man, I wish we could stay here forever!"
She giggled.
"But you've got more people waiting, right?"
Malik closed his eyes briefly.
"…I do."
She scrambled back up, brushing grass from her clothes.
"Before I go—!"
She bounced up onto her toes, holding out her pinky.
"Promise me one thing, big brother?"
Malik looked at the tiny finger.
"…What."
"Promise you'll take care of yourself. Just a little bit. For me."
Malik stared at her.
...Why did everyone he loved ask this of him?
Was he really that bad?
'Whatever.'
Stiffly, he lifted his hand, and their pinkies hooked.
"Pinky swear!"
She declared triumphantly, hopping up and down.
Malik's lips twitched, and he finally formed a full smile.
Honestly, it was really broken, but at least it was there.
That was the only thing that mattered to her.
"Okay!"
Jasmine beamed.
"I gotta go now… But I'm always cheering for you, never forget that!"
She spun on her heel and skipped away, humming to herself, fading into the silver glow.
"Bye-bye~!"
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Malik sat there, staring at the lake long after she was gone.
The forest was quiet again, but it was so very loud.
He exhaled slowly, shoulders relaxing by a fraction.
Slowly, he rose to his feet, his eyes returning to their usual cold.
Another memory. Another farewell.
Blink.
The world stumbled.
Malik rose smoothly to his feet and then stepped forward, finding himself inside a cave.
Again, this place was familiar; he knew the cold here, its dampness, the jagged rocks lining the walls, and the faint echo of screeches deep in the cave.
Though Malik hardly noticed any of that.
His golden eyes were fixed on the small figure before him.
A boy, his first ever complacency.
The boy was young, around little Jasmine in age.
He stood barefoot on the rough stone floor, his royal clothes a complete mess, his crimson hair similarly messy and wild, looking like it hadn't been washed in days.
There was something unnatural about his pink eyes, as if they didn't belong on a human face.
Malik's gaze lingered on them—they reminded him of Crimson, his pet owl...
Strange.
His memories of the bird should've been long gone by now, yet they remained, brighter than ever, an ember refusing to die, an ember that no Well could snuff out.
"Ah."
The boy's lips curled into a shaky smile as soon as his eyes met Malik's.
Without a word, he stumbled forward, small feet slapping the stone.
Malik just stood there, towering, still.
When the boy reached him, he paused and looked up.
He stared at Malik, and Malik stared at him.
The boy's eyes were trembling.
Malik didn't understand why exactly, but even he could figure out that it had something to do with the state he was currently in.
Unable to take it anymore, the boy crashed into Malik's stomach, forehead first, arms awkwardly wrapping around his waist.
Malik's hand twitched slightly, the instinct to pull in the child nearly overpowering his thoughts. But knowing that a boy his age might not appreciate a pat on the head, or an embrace of that kind, he pulled himself back and lowered himself, kneeling on one knee so their eyes could meet.
"Hey."
He, for the first time, began the conversation.
That showed just how nervous he was to meet the one he supposedly loved most.
Sure, he didn't know him yet, but if Jasmine was his second complacency and he loved her that much, then he couldn't imagine how much he loved this little one.
The boy sniffled loudly, wiping at his running nose with the back of his sleeve.
"H-hey, Elder Brother."
He croaked out, blinking up at him with trembling eyes.
Malik tilted his head slightly, as if puzzling over the words.
Elder Brother?
The boy's mouth trembled, then curved into another smile, brave this time.
"You… you mustn't worry, Elder Brother. Jasmine is in a good place now. She's at peace, past the Nether's River, in the Forgotten Nexus, with the others."
Malik's brow furrowed, just a tiny pinch.
The boy spoke so elegantly, so composed—it didn't match his small frame.
Malik couldn't remember ever meeting someone like this. And yet, something inside his chest tightened at the boy's words, like a string being pulled taut.
"Thank you."
The boy lifted his head, studying him.
"You've been through a lot, haven't you, Elder Brother?"
Malik gave the faintest nod.
"...I suppose I have."
The boy extended a small hand, delicate as a bird's wing.
"Would you?"
Without hesitation, Malik reached out and grasped it.
The boy's skin was warm, his grip surprisingly firm for someone so small.
"Let's go sit."
Slowly, the boy tugged Malik toward a rock jutting from the cave wall, gesturing for him to sit.
Malik followed and awkwardly settled onto the stone.
The boy climbed up beside him, legs swinging back and forth.
"I'm sure you don't remember me, Elder Brother... but that's alright. You should know—I'm your only younger brother. That kid Duban didn't steal my place. He only borrowed it."
Malik's head tilted again, a flicker of curiosity passing through his otherwise blank expression.
Duban.
How did this boy know Duban, Hassan's kid?
Wasn't he supposed to have died long before then?
And for that matter, was his and Duban's relationship that close?
...He could not say.
"Sure... I guess."
A mischievous grin crossed the boy's face.
"That is good. Elder Brother, you may call me Sinbad. But soon, I believe… you'll remember my real name."
Malik's lips barely moved.
"Did you always speak like that?"
Sinbad giggled softly, shaking his head.
"No. I was a stuttering mess before I died. Now, I speak like this because of my… condition."
"I see."
Sinbad swung his legs faster, kicking at the air.
"It's not only me who changed, Elder Brother. You've changed too. You've gotten quieter. Older. Wiser… and sadder. I wonder... must I tell you more about me? Wouldn't it only hurt you more? Burden your shoulders further? Are you sure you want to know?"
"I am."
Sinbad let out a long sigh, then leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
"Then you must know this, Elder Brother… You saved me."
Thump.
Malik felt it once more. That quiet pull in his chest.
"You saved both me and my idiot sister."
Thump.
"A crumb of bread. A gourd of water."
Thump.
"A home, a bed. An escape from damned rapists. A fall into Al-Fawra."
Thump.
"A life in a cave. A battle against the elements."
Thump.
"A battle against a Seeker..."
Thump.
"Against my own bastard father."
...It all clicked.
And Malik remembered.
He remembered the body that lay.
The neck that bled, the sword that felled.
His hand shot to his chest in sudden panic, fumbling for the chain around his neck, his fingers desperate to feel the charm, the memory, the anchor—
"It's fine."
Malik froze, head lifting slowly.
Sinbad's face was bright, blinding, and his smile was wide, pure, and without bitterness.
"You might not realize it now, but you haven't broken your promise... It's impossible for you to. You'll never leave my memory. And I'll never leave yours."
Malik's shoulders dropped, tension bleeding away.
A soft hum filled the cave, faint at first, then clearer, a child's lullaby.
Sinbad's body began to shimmer, little flecks of pink light rising from his skin.
His form blurred at the edges, like a dream breaking apart at dawn.
"I'm proud..."
His face—that radiant smile—was the last thing to vanish.
"I'm proud of you too, Elder Brother."
Blink.
