The streets were unusually quiet that evening.
Under the dim streetlights, a man dressed in a neat suit and a wide-brimmed hat walked down the empty road. His footsteps echoed softly against the pavement as he glanced at the watch on his wrist.
"Shit..."
He quickened his pace.
"I'm going to be late. I hope those kids have eaten something."
He sighed and continued walking.
But after taking a few more steps, he suddenly stopped.
Something felt strange.
He slowly looked around.
The street appeared completely normal, yet he could sense something unusual in the air.
"Prāṇa..."
His expression became serious.
"I can sense Prāṇa around this area."
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to locate its source.
"Where is it coming from?"
Before he could investigate, a figure suddenly appeared farther down the street.
A man was crawling across the pavement.
The suited man immediately ran toward him.
"Hey! Are you alright?"
The injured man raised his head.
"My eyes..."
His voice trembled.
"They're burning."
Tears streamed continuously from his eyes. He could barely keep them open.
The suited man immediately pulled a bottle of water from his bag.
"Here. Wash your eyes with this."
The man grabbed the bottle and poured the water over his face.
After several seconds, the irritation began to decrease.
"Thank you..."
He wiped his face.
"I don't know what happened."
The suited man looked at him carefully.
"No problem. But can you tell me how this happened?"
The man nodded.
"I was coming home from work. On my way, I saw a young girl sitting beside the garbage."
The suited man's expression changed.
"A girl?"
"Yes. She looked like she was crying, so I went toward her to see if she needed help."
He rubbed his eyes.
"But the moment I got close..."
"My eyes started burning."
The suited man immediately understood.
He looked in the direction the man had come from.
"Where is she?"
"Just down that street."
The suited man's expression became serious.
"I have to hurry."
He immediately ran.
As he moved through the street, a faint irritation began affecting his own eyes.
He stopped.
His expression became grim.
"So it's her..."
He looked ahead.
A young girl was sitting beside a pile of garbage.
Her clothes were torn and dirty.
Her golden hair was tangled.
Her head was lowered as tears continuously fell from her eyes.
The suited man could feel an enormous amount of Prāṇa surrounding her.
"She's releasing Prāṇa continuously."
His eyes narrowed.
"If this continues..."
"...she could seriously damage herself."
The problem was that approaching her directly would expose him to the same effect.
He thought for a moment.
Then an idea came to him.
"I'll close my eyes."
He shut them.
"Then I'll use my Prāṇa to enhance my other senses."
A faint aura surrounded his body.
His hearing sharpened.
His sense of touch became more sensitive.
Even without opening his eyes, he could understand the environment around him.
"I can manage my breathing for several minutes."
He slowly moved forward.
Step by step.
The closer he got...
The stronger the strange atmosphere became.
Yet he continued.
Finally, he stopped directly in front of the girl.
Kamali didn't even look up.
Her shoulders trembled as quiet sobs escaped her lips.
The suited man remained silent for a moment.
Then he spoke gently.
"What happened?"
"Why are you crying?"
Kamali's voice immediately came from beneath her tangled hair.
"You wouldn't understand."
"No one would."
She wiped her tears.
"So just leave me alone."
The man didn't move.
He had already noticed her torn clothes, exhausted appearance, and the sadness hidden beneath her expression.
"You should go home."
"Your parents must be worried about you."
Kamali suddenly raised her voice.
"No one is waiting for me!"
The man fell silent.
Kamali lowered her head again.
"I'm alone now."
"There is no one left who loves me."
"There is no home for me anymore."
Her voice became quieter.
"The only person who ever truly loved me..."
"...was my mother."
Tears fell onto the ground.
"And because of me..."
"...she died."
The man remained silent.
Kamali hugged her knees.
"I don't have anything left."
"I don't want to live anymore."
She looked toward the empty street.
"I'll stay here."
"I'll die here."
"I don't care anymore."
The man finally spoke.
"I can't leave you here."
Kamali immediately looked up.
"Why?"
"Why can't you leave me?"
Her voice became filled with anger.
"Everyone else left me."
"They used me."
"They took whatever they wanted from me and then abandoned me."
"So why are you different?"
The man said nothing.
Kamali's eyes became filled with hatred.
"Or are you just like them?"
She clenched her fists.
"Do you want my body too for your sexual desires?"
The man remained still.
Her voice cracked.
"Is that why you're here?"
Silence.
Kamali looked away.
"Everyone only cares about my appearance."
"They look at my body."
"They look at my hair."
"They look at my face."
She grabbed a handful of her golden hair.
"I hate it."
"I hate all of it."
"I hate my body."
"I hate my beauty."
Her fingers tightened around her hair.
"Because of this beauty..."
"...I lost everything."
She began crying again.
"I just want my mother."
"I want to see her."
"I want to hug her."
"I want her to call my name one more time."
Her voice became barely audible.
"But I can't."
"She's gone."
"So please..."
"Just let me die."
The man remained silent for several seconds.
Then he finally spoke.
"If you want to die that badly..."
"...then you still don't understand your mother's feelings."
Kamali froze.
Her head slowly lifted.
"What?"
"You didn't understand what your mother wanted." That men said.
Kamali stared at him in disbelief.
"How can you say that?"
"Are you saying you knew my mother better than I did?"
"No."
The man shook his head.
"I'm saying that you don't understand what she wanted for you."
Kamali's frustration grew.
"Oh?"
"You know what she wanted?"
"Yes."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Then tell me."
"What did my mother want?"
She almost shouted.
"I was her daughter!"
"I knew her better than anyone!"
The man remained calm.
"If that is true..."
"...then you should already know the answer."
Kamali clenched her teeth.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
For the first time, she raised her head completely.
And then...
Her eyes widened.
The man's eyes were open.
But something was wrong.
Blood was slowly running down his cheeks.
Drops fell onto the pavement.
Drip.
Drip.
Kamali stared at him.
"Your eyes..."
"Why is blood coming from them?"
The man calmly wiped his cheek.
"Because I've been exposed to your Prāṇa for too long."
"My eyes have been continuously producing tears."
"Eventually, the glands responsible for producing them became exhausted."
"So now..."
"...blood is coming instead."
Kamali couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Doesn't that hurt?"
The man smiled faintly.
"Of course it does."
"But compared to what you're feeling..."
"...this isn't even one percent of your pain."
Kamali stared at him.
"Why would you do this?"
The man didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he asked another question.
"Have you understood what your mother wanted?"
Kamali lowered her head.
"There is nothing she wants from me anymore."
Her voice trembled.
"I didn't listen to her."
"I ran away."
"I abandoned her."
"And because of me..."
"...she killed herself."
Tears rolled down her cheeks again.
"After everything I did..."
"What could she possibly want from a daughter like me?"
The man looked at her quietly.
Then he smiled.
"It's simple."
Kamali looked up.
"Every mother in this world..."
"...wants her child to live."
Kamali's eyes widened.
The man continued.
"Not just survive."
"Not merely exist."
"But actually live."
"To laugh."
"To experience happiness."
"To make mistakes."
"To fall down and stand again."
"To find people who love them."
"To see the world."
"And most importantly..."
"...to continue living even when life becomes painful."
Kamali stared at him.
The words slowly entered her heart.
"Your mother didn't want you to die."
"She wanted you to live."
"She wanted you to be happy."
"And if you truly loved her..."
"...then the best thing you can do for her now..."
"...is live the life she wanted you to have."
Kamali's lips began trembling.
"But..."
She looked down.
"I can't."
"I've lost everything."
The man shook his head.
"No."
"You haven't lost everything."
Kamali looked at him.
"You still have your life."
"You still have the ability to choose what happens next."
The man extended his hand toward her.
"Your mother's story ended."
"But yours hasn't."
Kamali stared at his hand.
For the first time in months...
Something flickered inside her heart.
A tiny spark.
Not happiness.
Not yet.
But hope.
The golden-haired girl who had believed her life was over slowly reached toward the man's hand.
And for the first time since losing her mother...
Kamali wondered whether perhaps...
She could keep living.
The man slowly moved his hand toward her.
Kamali remained still.
She was afraid.
She didn't know what he was going to do.
Her body tensed as he stepped closer.
But suddenly—
The man gently pulled her into his arms.
Kamali's eyes widened in shock.
She hadn't expected it.
"What are you doing?"
Her voice trembled.
The man didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he gently placed his hand on her head and began patting her hair.
Slowly.
Gently.
There was no hidden intention behind his touch.
No demand.
No expectation.
Just warmth.
Kamali froze.
For months, she had been treated as though she were nothing more than an object.
No one had asked whether she was afraid.
No one had cared whether she was hurting.
No one had simply held her and told her that she didn't have to face everything alone.
But now...
Someone was doing exactly that.
Her lips began to tremble.
And then, for the first time in months...
Kamali cried without trying to hide it.
She buried her face against his shoulder.
The tears she had held back for so long finally poured out.
The man continued patting her head.
"Go ahead."
"Let it all out."
Kamali's shoulders trembled.
She cried for her mother.
For the life she had lost.
For the girl she used to be.
And for the three months of pain she had endured alone.
The man said nothing more.
He simply remained beside her.
Because sometimes...
A broken heart doesn't need advice.
It only needs someone willing to stay.
TO BE CONTINUED…