The dust had barely settled when Habeel's gaze snapped toward the front of the truck, following the trembling line of Ababeel's finger. At first, all he saw was sunlit grit swirling lazily in the air. Then the crimson streaks. Then the tiny silhouette stood unnaturally still. His breath left him in a strangled, horrified whisper.
"OH SWEET HEAVENS!—" he clamped a hand over his mouth and staggered back beside Ababeel, staring in horror. "WHAT THE HECK!?"
Ababeel shook violently, her eyes wide. "Is that—"
"A baby with a knife," Habeel whispered, voice cracking. "She's literally—SHE IS LITERALLY A BABY WITH A KNIFE. Where did she even GET a knife!?"
She gagged once, twice—
Then doubled over and vomited to the side.
Habeel slapped a hand over his eyes. "Yeeekh—Ababeel! Warn me!"
He shook his head, took one steadying breath, and marched forward, voice trembling.
"JANNEH—HEY—HI—sweetie—what did you DO!?"
Janneh stood there like a horror movie toddler, face and shirt streaked with red, tiny chest heaving with leftover anger.
At her feet lay the dead cat—neck bent wrong, fur soaked.
Janneh didn't speak.
She only pointed.
At the rabbit plushie—ripped open, stuffing everywhere.
Habeel slowly raised both hands like he was handling a hostage situation.
"Okay. Okay, listen… what the cat did? That can be fixed. But what YOU did?"
He swallowed.
"Unfixable, sweetheart. Completely, cosmically unfixable."
He knelt, coming level with her furious little eyes.
She trembled—not with guilt, but with the animal terror of losing something precious.
His voice softened.
"Come here. Let me take that."
He gently closed his hand around the knife and slid it away.
Then he sat cross-legged beside her and began.
"Do you know the story of the first two brothers? Habeel and Cain? The sons of Adam and Eve?"
Janneh blinked—barely listening.
So Habeel began anyway, telling her the long version—
"A long time ago, Prophet Adam (A.S) had two sons named Habeel and Cain.
They were brothers who lived and played together just like children do today.
One day, God asked them to give a special gift (a sacrifice) to show their gratitude.
Habeel chose the best thing he had — a healthy, beautiful animal — because he wanted to give something nice to God.
Cain chose something not very good because he didn't think much about it.
God accepted Habeel's good and sincere gift, but He did not accept Cain's careless one.
Cain became very upset and felt jealous.
Habeel tried to calm him and said gentle words, reminding him that God loves kindness and sincerity.
But Cain let his anger grow too big, and he did something very wrong — he hurt his brother. This made him very afterwards because he realised he had made a terrible mistake.
God sent a crow to show Cain how to bury his brother. Cain watched and understood what he had done. He learned that jealousy and anger can lead to very bad choices."
The jealousy, the murder, the crow showing Cain how to bury his brother.
Janneh didn't blink once.
She only clutched the ruined rabbit tighter.
When he finished, Habeel released a long sigh.
"…Do you understand now why killing is bad?"
Janneh blinked again.
Then nodded.
Very seriously.
They buried the cat together, Habeel guiding her hands as they shovelled dirt over the tiny body.
He made her pat the soil gently.
"Say sorry," he whispered.
She drew a tiny heart in the dirt.
Habeel's throat tightened just a little. Later—after the sun dipped low and the world softened into dusk—Ababeel peeked from the back of the truck. There sat Habeel under the lantern glow, brows furrowed, mending the torn plushie with surgeon-like precision. The orange light painted him in warm gold, highlighting the curve of his cheek, his lashes, the little wrinkle between his brows. A babeel peeked from the back, finding Habeel sitting beside a lantern, mending the plushie with surgeon-level concentration and a needle he'd salvaged.
His tongue peeked out in concentration.
"Did you talk to her?" she asked softly.
Habeel froze.
Then scratched the back of his neck with a guilty little laugh.
"Well… yeah. I told her a whole story-time lecture for an hour…"
He made a face.
"…and then I got a two-hour lecture in return."
Ababeel bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.
"About what?"
"Well."
He lifted the little sketchpad Janneh used.
"I think the story was too complex for her tiny brain, so she—uh—interpreted it… uniquely."
Ababeel took the pad.
Her face froze.
A stick-figure Habeel is crying dramatically.
Another stick-figure is murdering him.
A big red X.
And a little girl holding a banner that read (in wobbly letters):
"JUSTIS FOR HABEELS!! Don't keel Habeel!"
Ababeel clapped a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking.
"Oh… oh that's—Habeel—that's priceless—"
"It's NOT!" he hissed.
"She thinks if she kills anything, it means she kills ME. As in—actual me."
He tapped the drawing.
"She thinks her father sent me as her replacement dad! Look at this picture!"
He held up another drawing:
A tall stick-figure (Habeel) holding little Janneh's hand with a halo on his head.
Beside them, a smiling stick-figure in the sky with the label:
"Baba send new dady."
Ababeel lost it.
She rolled onto her back, wheezing.
"You—you have a cult follower—"
"It's NOT a cult! It's—weird! It's incredibly weird!"
"She made a petition!" Ababeel cried, laughing.
"A petition to protect you! 'Don't kill the Habeel!'"
"YES! Exactly!" Habeel looked offended. "As if I did dialysis!"
Ababeel wiped tears from her eyes.
"Well, to be fair—given our life lately—you kinda do."
Habeel scowled, cheeks red.
"Let me finish sewing this rabbit before she thinks I'm her entire religion."
He tied the thread with a proud little grunt.
"Fixed," he whispered, softly proud. "Now I will fix that tiny hooligan... well, as long as she doesn't slaughter anything else, we will be fine."