Chapter 67:
Flavors of the Heart
Nia smiled. "Of course I am. Your ma'ma is strong! Even stronger than your father!" She winked at Hartik, making the kids giggle.
Hartik swallowed, looking away.
"When our family is together, I feel stronger than ever. This is just a piece of cake for your mother!"
" Really " Teena asked.
"Do you believe in your ma'ma?"
"Yeah, we do!" Hio and Teena shouted in unison.
"More than you believe in your father?" Nia teased.
"Yeah! More than we believe in papa!"
Hartik let out a small, exhausted laugh. "Hey, you two! I’m still here, you know!"
Teena and Hio giggled, "Sorry."
Nia chuckled, then gently placed her hands over their heads.
"Listen to me… this is just like those stories I love so much," she said softly. "The protagonist always faces hard times… but they survive because they have people supporting them."
She looked at them with gentle, determined eyes. "So, will you support me?"
"Yeah! We support you, Ma'ma!"
"Good." She sighed in relief, then smiled again. "Once Kichiro comes home… let’s go on a trip together."
"Promise?" Hio asked.
"Promise." She pulled all of them into one last hug.
Hartik felt her warmth… memorizing it.
She knew. She knew her chances of survival were low. But—there was still hope. And that was enough for her to smile.
The birth was successful. But Nia… She didn’t make it.
Haari exhaled slowly, his voice steady yet carrying the weight of years of pain.
Haari’s voice trembled as he spoke, his eyes fixed on the ground as if afraid to meet anyone’s gaze. “She… she passed away from heart failure while giving birth to me.” He paused, his fists tightening at his sides, the words dragging out like thorns. “My father… he couldn’t accept it. He drowned in grief, but instead of mourning her, he turned that pain on me. He hated me—blamed me for her death.”
Haari’s throat tightened, and for a moment he struggled to breathe. His voice cracked when he finally whispered, “He even changed my name… as if erasing me could bring her back.”
Aya’s breath hitched.
"Why…?" she asked softly.
"Because whenever someone called me by my real name…" Haari lowered his gaze, his hands curling into fists. "It reminded him of my mother."
Aya didn’t speak.
She felt the depth of those words.
"He never accepted me as his son." Haari continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "I should have died that day… if it wasn’t for Teena."
Years Ago – The Day Everything Changed
A dim, suffocating silence filled the house.
The dining table was untouched. Plates sat cold and empty, the air thick with the scent of unfinished meals.
Six-year-old Haari stood in the doorway, gripping the hem of his oversized shirt. His tiny feet shuffled hesitantly across the wooden floor as he approached his father.
Hartik sat alone, hunched over, staring at nothing. His face was hollow, his eyes dark. The man who once smiled so brightly now looked like a ghost.
"Papa…" Haari’s small voice barely broke the silence. "You haven’t eaten anything since morning… you’ll get sick if you don’t eat."
He didn't response not even looked at Haari. Haari took a cautious step forward. "Ma'ma wouldn’t want you to be like this…" That was a mistake, Haari life biggesdt mistake.
SMASH!
In the blink of an eye, Hartik whipped around, his face twisted in rage. Before Haari could react, a large hand grabbed his small throat.
"HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU?" Hartik’s voice was thunderous. "I AM NOT YOUR FATHER!"
Haari’s feet left the ground. His small fingers clawed at the hands choking him, his legs kicking desperately. "F—Fath…er… I—c-can’t…" Haari’s voice was strangled, barely escaping his lips.
His lungs burned. His vision blurred. His tiny hands swung wildly, knocking over a glass from the table—
CRASH!
The shattering sound ripped through the silence. "HAARI!" A pair of footsteps thundered across the wooden floor as Teena come to look what happend.
Her heart stopped when she saw it— Haari’s face, turning a terrifying shade of red. His wide, fear-filled eyes bulging. His tiny body dangling in their father’s grasp.
"LET GO OF HIM!" She lunged. Throwing her full weight onto their father’s back, her small arms wrapped around his torso.
"FATHER! LET GO OF HAARI!" she screamed, her voice shaking. "IT'S NOT GONNA CHANGE ANYTHING EVEN IF YOU KILL HIM—" her throat tightened, her words breaking. "IT’S NOT GOING TO BRING MOTHER BACK!"
Hartik’s body stiffened, his eyes widend as those words crossed his mind. His grip loosened.
Haari’s small body crashed onto the wooden floor, coughing violently.
Teena fell beside him, immediately rubbing his back. "Hey, Haari! Breathe… breathe, okay? Take a deep breath!"
Haari gasped, his tiny chest rising and falling rapidly. His throat ached. His vision was spinning. Teena held him tightly, pressing a cup of water to his lips.
"Here… drink this," she whispered. "From now on… you’ll sleep in my room, okay? You’ll stay with me. Always."
Behind them, Hartik stood frozen. His hands shook. Tears slid down his hollow cheeks as he stared at Haari.
"Only if…" his voice was barely audible. "Only if YOU WEREN'T BORN... SHE WOULD STILL BE ALIVE TODAY."
Haari’s breath caught.
Hartik’s eyes filled with grief and guilt.
"I told her… she should have chosen the operation," his voice cracked. "But she wouldn’t listen to me… she had to be stubborn. And now… she had to pay for it with her life."
A single tear fell from Haari’s eyes. He wasn’t crying for himself. He was crying because, for the first time, he realized something. His father would never love him.
"I left the house." A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, filling the silence between Haari’s words. He's staring at the ground, his fingers loosely intertwined.
"No… I ran away." His voice was quiet but firm. "After I finished school, I got a scholarship, I didn't told them about this… and I came here."
Aya sat beside him, her usual carefree energy subdued. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. Then she let out a deep sigh.
"Man… I thought it’d be some family controversy, but damn—" she let out a half-hearted chuckle. "You’ve got quite the history."
Haari said nothing. The air between them grew heavier.
Aya leaned back, tilting her head toward the sky. The stars above twinkled brightly, yet her heart felt strangely dull.
"I thought our situations would be similar…" she murmured. "But hearing your story… I feel kinda ashamed for running away the way I did."
Haari turned to her. "Running away?"
"Yeah," Aya nodded, her lips curving into a small, bitter smile. "I ran away from home, just like you… but nothing like what happened to you ever happened to me."
Haari remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
Aya exhaled, ruffling her bangs.
"My family didn’t let me do what I wanted. I wanted to enjoy my life, chase my dreams… but they kept talking about my marriage." She made air quotes. " 'Aya, you should start thinking about settling down'—that kind of stuff. I told them I wasn’t ready then, that I wanted to live my life first. But they wouldn’t listen. So…"
She turned to Haari with a lopsided grin. "I ran away."
Haari listened. No judgment. No response. Just listening. A comfortable silence settled between them before Aya spoke again.
"But… one day, I’ll go back."
Haari’s eyes widened. "Huh?"
Aya smiled at his reaction. "What I did wasn’t right. I should’ve tried harder to talk things through instead of just leaving. So once I achieve what I want, I’ll go back." Her voice was light, yet full of certainty.
Aya turned toward Haari, eyes filled with warmth. "What about you?"
Haari looked away, his expression unreadable. "I… don’t know."
Aya didn’t push for an answer. She just sat beside him, their quiet conversation drifting into the night sky.
The sky was painted in soft hues of orange and pink as the sun slowly peeked over the horizon. A cool morning breeze rustled through the palm trees, filling the air with the scent of salt and sand. Haari stood near the entrance, his backpack slung over one shoulder, ready to leave.
Aya leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching him with a mix of concern and reluctance. "You sure you wanna leave now?" she asked, her voice softer than usual.
Haari adjusted the strap on his backpack. "Yeah."
"Y can stay as long you want."
Haari gave a small smile but shook his head. "No, I have to go. Aya, thanks for having me."
Aya frowned. "Hey, don't say it like that. This is your home too, you know? You can come here anytime you want."
Haari hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Thanks for saying that."
Aya reached into her pocket and pulled out a sleek black credit card, placing it in his hand.
"Here, I put some money in it," she said casually.
Haari blinked, confused. "Why? I didn’t ask for this."
Aya rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but you need it right now, so just take it."
He glanced down at the card, then back at her. "Aya, I can’t—"
She cut him off with a firm but warm smile. "My friend means more to me than some numbers in a bank. I could spend money like water if it meant helping you."
Haari exhaled, shaking his head slightly, but he couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him.
Aya grinned. "Money is just material, but friends…" she paused, looking at him with sincerity, "friends are the moments, the laughter, the shoulders to lean on. They’re the ones who make life truly rich."
Haari let out a small laugh. "Aya, you sound like some kind of philosopher now."
Before he could say more, Aya stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.
Haari stiffened for a second, caught off guard, but then slowly relaxed.
"Haari," she murmured against his shoulder, "just remember this—I’m always here for you. No matter where in world you are, you just need on call to me, and I be their for you anytime."
For the first time in a long time, Haari felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the morning sun. He wasn’t alone. No matter where this journey took him, no matter how uncertain the road ahead was… he's happy to know that someone had his back.
He gave a small nod, voice quiet yet steady. "I will."
Aya pulled back, giving him a playful punch on the arm. "Good. Now go find your girl, lover boy."
Haari chuckled, shaking his head as he turned to leave. With one last glance back at Aya, he stepped forward, continuing his journey once more.
Day 520 – In Search of Ashi
Haari’s beard had started to grow rough, his hair tangled and unkempt, as if he hadn't cared for it in weeks. His eyes, once sharp with curiosity, now carried a quiet exhaustion.
Standing in the overcrowded general coach of a train, where even breathing felt like a luxury, his bag hung tightly against his chest. His arms ached from holding onto the rusty overhead bars. He tilted his head slightly, resting it against the upper berth, and shut his eyes for just a brief moment—seeking even the smallest relief.
The train screeched into a station, but Haari didn’t react. The same journey, the same search, the same emptiness.
Hospital – Same Day
The sterile white walls, the sharp scent of disinfectant—Haari had gotten used to these places. His worn-out sneakers squeaked slightly as he walked to the reception desk.
"I'm looking for a patient," Haari said, his voice hoarse from days of little sleep and too much travel.
The receptionist typed on her keyboard before glancing up at him.
“My apologies, sir, but we never had a patient with that name.”
That reply again. The same one he had heard countless times before.
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