The harsh sunlight of Mazar Sharif pierced through the curtains and landed directly on Sudais's face. His eyelids were heavy, but the sudden opening of the door snapped him back to full awareness.
Bahir walked in with his usual smile, holding a paper bag from which the smell of greasy burgers drifted.
"Awake, hero?" Bahir closed the door behind him.
Sudais replied in a rough voice:
"Yeah… where were you?"
Bahir placed the burger on the table:
"Gathering supplies for the king! Come on, eat this and regain your strength."
Sudais glanced at the bag and gave a faint, bitter smile:
"Thanks."
A few moments later, while Sudais was putting on the new clothes Bahir had brought, struggling to get his arm through the sleeve of his shirt, Bahir asked:
"Don't you want to lie down a bit more? You still look pale."
Sudais stubbornly stood up, as if standing was his first victory over weakness:
"No. I'm fine like this. I need to get going."
He quickly walked out of the room and called:
"Come on, Bahir!"
Bahir hurried after him.
On the Way to Chowk Noor
The streets of Mazar-i-Sharif were crowded and bustling. The car could barely move through the crowd. Bahir turned the steering wheel and said in surprise:
"What's going on today? It feels like the whole city is out!"
Sudais watched the people walking by with shopping bags and smirked:
"Are you crazy? Tomorrow is Eid."
Bahir scratched his head:
"Oh! I completely forgot… Hey, didn't you get new clothes?"
Sudais looked at his shirt sleeve:
"I was busy dealing with injuries. Did I have time to go shopping?"
Bahir suggested:
"Shall we go get some? There's still time."
Sudais shook his head:
"No. I need to go home first. I need to settle things. I'll text you later."
The car stopped in front of Sudais's house. Unlike Chowk Noor, their street was wrapped in heavy silence.
Sudais firmly shook Bahir's hand:
"See you…"
He stepped out and stood in front of the iron gate. He took a deep breath, trying to hide the tremble in his voice, and rang the bell.
Familiar footsteps approached, and the door opened.
Selina appeared with a smile reserved only for seeing her older brother:
"Sudais! You're finally here? Come in…"
But her smile didn't last even a second.
The light from the street fell directly onto Sudais's face. The bruises, the swelling under his eyes, and the dried cut on his cheek stood out like a frightening painting.
"Sudais…" Selina's voice trembled. "Your face… what happened to you?"
Sudais suddenly remembered that mirrors reveal the truth without mercy.
He tried to calm her:
"Hey, Selina, it's nothing. Just don't tell mom and dad, okay?"
But Selina didn't listen—or maybe she didn't want to.
Her voice echoed through the entire house:
"MOM!!!"
A heavy silence settled over the room. Sudais's father, with eyes filled with a mix of anger and concern, stared at his son's battered face.
"So? What is this condition?"
Sudais pressed his lips together. Words froze in his throat. Silence was the only shield he had left.
His father raised his voice:
"Aren't you going to answer? Didn't you say you were going to a restaurant? Weren't you supposed to stay at a hotel last night?"
Sudais's mother, nervously twisting the edge of her scarf, interrupted:
"He won't speak! Hurry, call Bahir. He must know what happened to our son."
His father grabbed his phone. The continuous ringing felt like a hammer striking Sudais's head.
In Traffic at Chowk
Bahir, stuck in the heavy rush of Eid traffic, froze when he saw the name "Uncle" on his phone screen.
"Yes, Uncle? What is it?"
His father's trembling voice came through:
"Bahir! Has Sudais come home?"
Bahir let out a sigh of relief:
"Yes, Uncle. I just dropped him off."
"Where were you last night?"
Bahir tried to keep his tone normal:
"I told you, we were at the ho—"
"Don't lie to me!" His father's shout froze Bahir in place. "Tell me the truth. What did you do to Sudais? His face is bruised and black! Didn't you promise to take care of him?"
Bahir, confused and helpless, stammered:
"Uncle… I… I—"
"Enough!" his father cut him off. "You are no longer allowed to be around my son. That's final!"
The steady beep of the disconnected call left Bahir alone in traffic, buried under a mountain of questions.
At Home: House Arrest
His father slammed the phone onto the table. He glanced at Sudais, who was still staring at an unknown point on the carpet.
He stood up and walked toward the other room, saying firmly:
"You are not allowed to go anywhere with that boy again. Do you understand?"
Without lifting his head, Sudais muttered:
"…Alright."
When he was left alone, he leaned back against the couch. The exhaustion from last night's battle was finally catching up to him. His eyelids closed.
The wall clock showed 10:10.
He drifted into a restless sleep—but it didn't last long.
"Sudais! Come here!"
His mother's voice, like an alarm, jolted him awake.
With a groan from the pain in his wounded side, he stood up. The family had gathered.
His mother said gently:
"Walid called. They're going to the market to buy Eid clothes with the others. He said if Sudais is going, we should come along. Will you go?"
Sudais replied lazily:
"No… it's not necessary. I already have clothes."
His father frowned:
"You don't even have Eid clothes. What do you mean it's not necessary? Go get ready, they're on their way."
"But I want to sleep…"
"Don't argue, Sudais! Go wait at the door."
Meeting Walid: A Mask for Friends
Sudais leaned against the doorway, exhausted.
The honk of a car broke the silence of the street. The vehicle stopped in front of him, and the window rolled down.
Walid greeted cheerfully:
"Hey Sudais! How are you, man? How's the family?"
Sudais forced a faint smile to hide the bruises on his face:
"Thanks… you went through trouble, Walid."
"No worries! Get in, come on!"
Sudais sat in the back seat beside Khalid, Jamshid, and Hamid. Laughter and jokes filled the car.
The market of Mazar-i-Sharif smelled of rosewater, incense, and Eid sweets.
Khalid, Jamshid, and Sudais acted like old times—pushing and joking, as if no sorrow existed in the world. Khalid's endless teasing and Jamshid's humor at the fabric shop even softened Sudais's expression.
When they stood by the edge of the shrine's pool, eating milk ice cream, Sudais forgot—just for a moment—that he had looked death in the eyes the night before.
As evening approached, Walid's car stopped in front of Sudais's house.
Holding his new fabric bag, Sudais stepped out.
"Had a good time, guys. Take care!"
Walid nodded with a smile:
"You too, bro. Send our regards to your family."
Khalid shouted from the window:
"Go inside quickly, before you get kidnapped! Eid Mubarak in advance!"
Their laughter faded as the car disappeared down the street.
Sudais turned the key in the lock, entered the yard, and closed the door behind him.
He took a deep breath.
In his heart, he whispered:
"At least… today was good."
A moment of peace—like a temporary medicine—flowed through his veins.
In a Leather-Shadowed Office
The red glow of the sunset spread across the ebony desk like a stain of blood.
A middle-aged man, seated behind the desk, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and looked at the two men lounging on the leather sofas before him. His voice trembled:
"Look… try to understand. This is beyond my capability. Ask for something else—anything—but this… I cannot do it."
One of the men, without moving, spoke in a voice colder than ice:
"This isn't about ability. It's about execution. Give us the address and be done. Our time is gold."
The man tried to protest, but the second figure leaned forward slightly, his gaze carrying a scent of death:
"Please… don't mistake our insistence for disrespect."
A suffocating silence filled the room.
Moments later, the heavy door opened. The two men stood and walked out with firm steps and stone-like expressions.
The orange light of the dying sun struck their cold faces directly.
They walked forward…
And in the shadow of every step they took… a hidden name lingered.