Rono believed there were only two kinds of people in the world.
People who made life heavier.
And people who made it lighter.
He had decided very early that if life was already hard enough, then he wanted to be the second kind.
That was why he laughed loudly.
Why he talked too much.
Why he always gave his answers in class even when he was wrong.
Why he smiled at strangers.
Why he kept helping people even when they forgot to thank him after.
It was easier to breathe around people who made life lighter.
That morning, he was late for school.
Again.
He jumped over the drain near the tea stall, nearly got hit by a bicycle, ran through the half-open school gate, and froze.
The principal was standing there.
Rono slowly started walking backwards.
The principal adjusted his glasses.
"Rono."
"Sir."
"Come here."
"Sir, with all due respect, I think we both know where this conversation is going, so why don't we save each other some time and pretend you already scolded me?"
The principal stared at him.
Rono gave him a hopeful smile.
"No?"
Ten minutes later, he entered class with both hands raised in surrender.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced dramatically, "I have returned from war."
His friend Sayan threw a pen at his face.
"You mean detention?"
"Same thing."
The class laughed.
Rono dropped into his seat.
The teacher had not arrived yet, which meant the classroom was in its natural state: chaos.
Someone was singing loudly in the back.
Someone else was sleeping with their head on the desk.
A group of girls near the window were taking selfies.
Two boys were arguing about cricket.
And in the middle row, Sayan had already started the worst idea possible.
Truth and dare.
"Rono," Sayan said with a grin, "truth or dare?"
"Truth. I am a man of dignity."
"Coward," another friend said.
"Strategic."
Sayan leaned forward.
"Who do you like?"
The entire bench went silent.
Rono looked away.
"Next question."
"No, no, answer."
"Nobody."
"Liar."
"Nobody."
"Then why do you suddenly become a malfunctioning robot whenever Mira talks to you?"
The moment he heard her name, Rono nearly choked.
Across the classroom, Mira was talking to her friend.
She had tied her hair up today.
Rono immediately looked away.
Too late.
Sayan had seen.
"OH MY GOD LOOK AT HIS FACE!"
Half the class turned.
Rono grabbed Sayan by the neck.
"I will kill you."
"Mira!" Sayan shouted. "Rono has something to say to you!"
Rono went pale.
Mira looked over.
"What?"
Every eye in the room turned toward him.
Rono's brain stopped working.
He stood up too quickly.
His knee hit the desk.
His water bottle fell.
The cap flew off.
Water spilled all over his pants.
For one horrifying second, it looked like he had pissed himself.
The room exploded with laughter.
Rono wanted the earth to open and swallow him whole.
Even Mira laughed.
Not cruelly.
Just enough to make him feel even more embarrassed.
"I hate all of you," Rono muttered, sitting back down.
Sayan was crying from laughter.
"Brother," he gasped, "you looked like you got shot."
"I hope your future wife leaves you."
"Worth it."
The teacher entered a few moments later and the class settled down.
Mostly.
Rono spent the rest of the morning pretending to pay attention while actually drawing nonsense in the corner of his notebook.
A sword.
A dragon.
A badly made sketch of Sayan dying in a fire.
At lunch break, he sat with his friends under the old tree near the field.
The grass was dry.
The sun was too hot.
Some boys were playing football nearby.
One of them slipped and got hit in the face.
Everyone laughed.
Rono opened his lunchbox.
His mother had packed rice, potato fry, and egg curry.
"Your mother loves you too much," Sayan said, staring into the box.
"I know," Rono replied proudly.
"Mine packed bitter gourd."
"Maybe she hates you."
Sayan looked genuinely offended.
Rono laughed.
Then he quietly scooped half the egg curry onto Sayan's lunchbox.
"Eat before you die of sadness."
Sayan looked at him for a second.
"You're a good person."
"I know that too."
"Shame about the face though."
"And we're back."
After school ended, Rono walked home slowly.
He liked the walk home.
It was the one part of the day that belonged only to him.
No teachers.
No exams.
No expectations.
Just the road, the noise of people, the smell of food from shops, and the feeling that life was still moving.
He stopped at a roadside stall and bought a packet of chips.
The old shopkeeper smiled.
"Late again today?"
"My fans needed extra time with me."
"Your fans?"
"My classmates."
The shopkeeper laughed.
Rono continued down the lane.
Near the corner before his house, he saw the same brown street dog sitting beside the broken wall.
He saw it almost every day.
One ear bent down.
Scar near the neck.
Always looked hungry.
The dog saw him and wagged its tail.
"You again?"
Rono crouched down.
He broke the packet of chips in half and held it out.
The dog ate carefully from his hand.
"You're smarter than people," Rono said quietly, scratching behind its ear.
"People remember the bad things forever. Dogs don't."
The dog licked his fingers.
Rono smiled.
"You're probably happier too. No exams. No heartbreak. No pretending to be someone else all the time."
The dog rested its head against his knee.
For a second, Rono looked at the sky.
Orange.
Soft.
The kind of evening that made the world feel kind.
He thought about Mira.
About how stupid he looked.
About how his father would probably laugh if he told him.
About how his mother would tell him to stop acting like an idiot around girls.
About how his sister would never let him live it down.
He smiled to himself.
Then his phone buzzed.
A message from his mother.
"Buy eggs on your way home."
Rono sighed.
"There goes my peaceful walk."
He got up, bought eggs from a small shop, and started toward home.
The road grew quieter.
The closer he got to his house, the less people there were.
The air felt colder.
The evening looked darker somehow.
Rono slowed down.
He didn't know why.
Nothing had happened.
Everything was normal.
But suddenly...
He felt wrong.
His chest tightened.
His stomach twisted.
His throat went dry.
The bag in his hand suddenly felt heavier.
Rono stopped walking.
His house was at the end of the lane.
He could see the gate from here.
And for some reason, just looking at it made his heart start pounding.
He swallowed.
He almost turned around.
Almost.
He didn't know why.
He just knew that every step toward that house felt like walking toward something terrible.
The closer he got, the worse it became.
His breathing grew uneven.
His skin felt cold.
He felt like he was going to throw up.
Then he saw it.
The front door was open.
Rono froze.
His father never left the front door open.
Never.
The evening suddenly felt silent.
Too silent.
No TV.
No sound from the kitchen.
No shouting.
No footsteps.
Nothing.
"Ma?"
No answer.
"Dad?"
Silence.
Rono stepped inside.
The smell hit him first.
Blood.
His school bag slipped from his shoulder.
The eggs shattered on the floor.
His father was lying near the sofa.
His throat was cut open.
Blood covered the floor beneath him.
Rono stopped breathing.
His mother was near the dining table.
One hand stretched toward the kitchen.
As if she had tried to crawl.
As if she had been alive long enough to know she was dying.
Then he looked at the stairs.
His sister.
Halfway up.
Her neck bent the wrong way.
Blood on the wall.
Blood on the stairs.
Blood everywhere.
Rono stared.
His mind refused to understand what he was seeing.
This was home.
This was supposed to be home.
Then the scream came out of him.
And it did not stop.