Warning: This chapter contains domestic.
abuse.
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Few Hours Ago.
Yunah jumped out of the taxi and sprinted down the narrow alley, the dim streetlights flickering above her. Fear clawed at her chest as she ran, her breath ragged, sweat soaking through her shirt.
All she could think was—Please, let Mom be okay.
Her lungs burned, but she didn't stop until her house came into view. A small crowd had gathered outside—her aunt Rashmi and a few neighbors stood there, pale and anxious.
Yunah's steps quickened. She reached her aunt, panting, gripping her arm desperately.
"M–Mom… is she okay?" she asked, her voice breaking.
Aunt Rashmi shook her head, her face drawn with fear. "I don't know. He's locked the door. He stopped shouting a while ago, but… I don't hear anything inside." Her voice trembled. "You need to go, Yunah. Go check on her."
Yunah nodded, her pulse pounding. She ran straight to the door and banged on it hard.
"Dad! Open the door!" she shouted, her voice rising. "Dad!"
Heavy, uneven footsteps shuffled closer. The door creaked open—and her father stood there, reeking of alcohol, his eyes bloodshot and vacant.
Yunah didn't even glance at him. She pushed past, brushing his shoulder roughly. The living room was a wreck—broken glass scattered everywhere, the table overturned, TV smashed, curtains torn.
"Yunah!" her father slurred behind her. "You came to give me money, huh?" His words stumbled out, thick with alcohol.
She ignored him completely, scanning the chaos until she saw faint drops of blood leading toward the bedroom.
Her stomach dropped.
"Mom!" she called, voice cracking as she rushed forward. "Mom!"
When she entered the room, the air left her lungs. Her mother lay sprawled on the cold floor—covered in blood and bruises, lips split, eyes swollen blue. Yunah dropped to her knees beside her, trembling.
"Mom…" The word escaped as a whisper before her tears broke free. They fell fast, hot, uncontrollable. She lifted her mother's head gently, brushing the blood from her cheek with shaking hands.
Aunt Rashmi stumbled into the room behind her, gasping at the sight before bursting into tears.
"How could he—how could he beat her like this?" she cried. "He's not human… he's a monster!"
"Give me money!" her father's voice cut through the room. He staggered in, barely able to stand straight. "Where's the money, huh? You think I won't hit you too?"
Yunah's body went still, tears still streaking her cheeks. Slowly, she turned her head towards him—her eyes blazing.
"Auntie," she said quietly, her tone cold, trembling with fury. "Call the police. And the ambulance. I'll handle him."
Without waiting for a reply, she stood and marched towards her father.
"We've tolerated enough of your filth," she hissed, shoving him back into the living room.
He shoved her off with surprising strength, his drunken rage boiling over."How dare you touch your father like that?" he snarled, stepping closer. "Did living in the city make you forget who raised you?"
Yunah stood her ground, her jaw tight. "Today, either you or I walk out of this alive," she said, her voice shaking but unyielding. "Let's end this."
"You—" His hand flew before she could finish.
SLAP!
Her head snapped to the side. She fell hard, her lip splitting open. Blood trickled down her chin as she looked up at him—then smiled. A broken, defiant smile.
"Beat me all you want," she spat, standing again. "You'll regret it the second I fight back."
"You ungrateful brat!" He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her forward. "Just give me the damn money!"
"I said—I don't have any!" Her words were met with another violent shove. She crashed onto the shattered glass, the sharp edges slicing into her palms. Pain burned through her, but she didn't scream.
Then came the kick—hard, straight into her stomach.Yunah's body jerked, but she still didn't cry. She clenched her jaw, enduring it all in silence.
When he reached for her again, she snapped. Using every ounce of strength left, she stomped down on his foot and shoved him back against the wall.
"Enough!" she shouted. "You won't touch us again!"
But his strength overpowered hers. Within moments, she was thrown down again—battered, bruised, bleeding.
Outside, sirens wailed. The flashing red and blue lights reflected through the broken window as the police and ambulance finally arrived.
Officers stormed in, just in time to see the violence with their own eyes. Her father froze, stumbling back as they restrained him and dragged him away.
Aunt Rashmi rushed in with the medics, her face streaked with tears. They lifted Yunah's mother first, then Yunah—both unconscious and bloodied—onto stretchers.
As they were taken out, Yunah's trembling hand slipped from her mother's. Her last thought before everything went dark—
"At least… he's gone."
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At Hospital.
Noah and Yogesh barreled through the entrance doors like they were running from the world itself. Noah's face was pale and raw with a fear nobody had ever seen on him before — the same boy who laughed while torturing men now moved like a man undone. His heart slammed against his ribs as if it might tear free.
They sprinted straight to Emergency, ripping aside curtains and checking beds. The surgery was over; Yunah was out of immediate danger — but fragile. After frantic minutes of searching, they found her: unconscious, an IV sliding from her arm, bruises darkening her skin, a blue-purple map across her face. Yogesh couldn't bear it; he stepped back, hands trembling, and stumbled out of the ward. He left Noah with her to look for his mom.
Noah's throat tightened. He approached the bed on unsteady legs and dropped onto the small stool, as if afraid to make too much sound. For a long, fragile moment he simply watched her breathe. Then, careful as if she might break, he took her hand. His fingers shook. He wanted to do something — tear the world apart for her — but the only thing he could do right now was hold on.
A wardboy's voice cut the hush. "Visitors, please leave; visiting hours are over."
Noah rose like a man woken from a stupor and walked to the nurses' desk, expression stone-cold. "Move the girl in ward twelve to the VIP room," he said, voice flat as a blade.
"We can," the nurse replied, offering a clipboard. "But you'll need to fill this out and pay the deposit at the counter first."
Noah took the form and signed it with quick, exact strokes. He handed over the paperwork and his black card without a word. The staff moved with practiced efficiency; Yunah was transferred to the VIP room under gentle hands while Noah watched the doors close behind her like a slammed promise.
He needed air. Outside, the hospital garden was quiet, lit by a single lamppost. Noah stood beneath it and lit a cigarette, the flame trembling briefly before steadying. Smoke curled around him like a dark halo.
Yogesh found him there a few minutes later and approached slowly. "Can I have one?" he asked, hand stuffed into his pocket, voice brittle.
Noah blinked, then pushed a cigarette towards him. Yogesh lit it in a shaking motion and drew in a long, raw breath. " I heard you moved Di to VIP," he said, looking at the distant, dim horizon.
Noah only nodded, dragging smoke into his lungs. "Mm."
"How's your mom?" Noah asked after a beat.
"She's better than Di," Yogesh answered. "Doctor said she might wake up in an hour." His voice carried a tight hope that didn't reach his eyes.
Noah made a sound that was almost approval and crushed his cigarette under his shoe. The night hummed around them.
Then Yogesh turned, jaw clenched, and spoke in a measured, cold voice that surprised Noah. "Can you… beat up my dad?"
The question hit the quiet like thunder. Noah looked at him — really looked — and for a second something unreadable passed across his face: surprise, calculation, and something softer under the steel. He didn't answered immediately. He just stayed under the lamplight a moment longer, hands in his pockets, staring into the dark before saying anything reckless from his mouth. He wants to kill his dad but he can't say it straight at the face of Yogesh.