“…Sorry.”
With one final glance, Malik began to walk away.
***
{Outside The Projection}
“I KNEW IT!”
Huda felt a huge wave of relief watching as her brother left them for dead.
She always wondered if something she did had changed him, or if their brother’s death had broken his heart.
It ate her up inside, as she wanted something to blame… anything—anything but herself.
And this in front of her was an out, one that she latched on to with all that she was.
Malik was never kind; he just pretended to be.
All their life together was a lie… she… she wasn’t wrong to kill him.
‘Right?’
The others weren’t going through the same mental gymnastics that she had.
Rather, they only saw his decision as something natural, expected.
It was a beast-eat-beast world out there, especially for those less fortunate.
His survival was in question every second that he breathed; adding two kids to the equation would prove too difficult for him to solve.
They would die, and he would too, so if they were in his place, they would’ve done the same.
The fact that he was hesitating had already surprised them enough.
But then, what happened next had shut them up and made them feel shame.
***
{Inside The Projection}
The pitiful boy stopped just as he was about to exit the alleyway.
He tried to move but couldn’t; his weak fists clutched in a protest against himself.
His rational side demanded his body to leave, but his heart couldn’t bear leaving those two kids to die.
After a trembling sigh escaped him, his trembling had stopped, and he calmly looked back.
“I’m too kind for my own good.”
***
{Outside The Projection}
Everyone without exception glanced at Huda and her early celebration.
Usually, that would’ve made her embarrassed, but their thoughts about her were the last thing on her mind at that moment.
She made herself believe that Malik had never loved them, that he cared for them only to benefit later on, their lives an investment, but now she couldn’t deny the obvious truth.
No, she couldn’t have survived without his help, and yes, he had saved them knowing that death would be the likely result.
At least at first, her brother truly cared her…
‘Just why?’
***
{Inside The Projection}
Malik walked up to the two and kneeled next to the sprawled figures.
One was a six-year-old girl, and the other was a seven or eight-year-old boy.
Both had pink hair, and their faces were just like his, pale, a sight that he wasn’t used to.
But that was where the similarities ended
Their cheeks were chubby, their bodies with a healthy amount of fat, and their clothes were brand new.
He didn’t know where they had come from but those two weren’t beggars, that was for sure.
***
{Outside The Projection}
“Lady Huda?!”
“You knew the Villain since young?”
“Is that why you call him ‘brother?'”
“And who is that other boy? I’m sure he’s as popular as you are!”
“Please explain Lady Huda!”
Ah, it seemed that many people still didn’t make the connection.
“What dumbasses…”
She muttered, only for her family to hear, then roared:
“The Villain is my brother no longer! Now enough questions!”
That had shut them up, as no one wanted to talk back against the head of Al-Sayf.
Or that would’ve been the case if Layla, Malik’s ex-wife, wasn’t there.
“Can you really say that with all your heart?”
Huda’s body stuttered as she looked to the side, eyes landing on a dark-skinned woman with golden irises, like a cat’s, and long purple hair that flowed along her slender back.
She wore an all-black mourning dress that hid all her undoubtedly bountiful curves.
“Layla, now you want to speak? After everything’s said and done?”
The woman let out a sad chuckle.
“Like his disciple, Lady Safira, today I’ve only come as an observer… though he betrayed me, annihilated my family, he was once my husband. I won’t fight him.”
“Then—”
“Please.”
Layla cut her off with a raised palm and said:
“I’ve given you an answer. Give me mine.”
Huda showed a face of obvious struggle as she tried to think up what to say.
“I… you… What do you even mean by that?!”
Shaking her head in disappointment, Layla looked away, her eyes returning to the screen.
“Nothing, Lady Huda, just… nothing.”
***
{Inside The Projection}
Malik had checked their breathing and quickly realized that death had nearly embraced them.
They needed water, fast.
Malik shoved his right hand into his robes and took out a gourd.
He looked at it for a few moments, unconsciously gulped, then uncapped it.
Picking up the girl’s head with his left, he parted her lips with his right, angled her neck, and began to slowly pour the water on her tongue.
She, though out of it, managed to gulp down the water, desperately.
Once he paused, her lips spasming for more, begging, but he gave them none.
It was her brother’s turn.
The boy reacted much the same, but again, Malik couldn’t afford to spoil them, capping the gourd and securing it beneath his robes in the strap that bound his pants.
He had to ration it; those two had drunk an entire month’s worth, leaving barely any water to last them until next week.
“Alright, now food.”
Malik set his makeshift cane aside, and picked up the two, leaving them leaning on the wall to his right.
With the gentlest of motions, he broke apart the now cold bread and began to feed it to them, piece by little piece, like a mother bird and its little chicks.
It was a beautiful scene, one that showed his first sacrifice for them… his kindness.
The two stayed still, only their mouths moving, munching away at the carbs entering their bodies.
Not long after, when barely any of the bread was left, Malik had some for himself, a piece no bigger than his palm.
That was going to be his only meal for that day, yet he didn’t seem to have any complaints.
Just then, while he was dusting his hand off the flour, the boy’s eyelids fluttered open, revealing two bright pinks.
“…You… who are you? What do you want with us?”