Those small steps eventually brought them to the front door of a modern minimalist house. The door was half open. From inside came the mouthwatering aroma of cooking. A woman appeared from within, an apron neatly tied around her waist, as soon as Farah called for her from the living room.
“Farah? Oh my goodness, what happened, honey?” Bunda Ayu cried out in panic when she saw her daughter limping along with swollen eyes.
“I fell earlier, Bunda...” Farah answered in a hoarse voice.
Bunda Ayu’s gaze immediately shifted to the thin little boy beside her daughter. In an instant, her panicked expression softened into genuine warmth. A gentle smile curved across her lips.
“Fathan, right? Oh God, thank you so much for bringing Farah home,” Bunda Ayu said softly and kindly. She crouched down, gathering Farah into her arms while gently stroking Fathan’s shoulder. “Come inside first, sweetheart. Bunda will treat Farah’s injury and get you some steamed cake and an afternoon meal, okay? Do you want to eat inside?”
Fathan froze. His small body suddenly went stiff when Bunda Ayu touched his shoulder. He took one step back, keeping his distance from the doorway that felt so unfamiliar to him. His eyes looked into the warm-smelling house, filled with the savory aroma of food, but the unfamiliar feeling in his chest was far stronger.
“N-no, thank you, Auntie...” Fathan squeaked softly, not even daring to step farther past the edge of the porch. He lowered his head and twisted the hem of his own shirt. “Fathan... Fathan should just go home.”
Bunda Ayu looked at him with deep understanding and didn’t pressure him at all. “All right, then. Be careful, Fathan. Thank you so much, handsome big brother...”
Fathan only gave a jerky nod before turning around and hurrying along the narrow path through the stretch of green grass, back toward the quiet house at the end. The porch door creaked as Fathan stepped into his own home.
“Fathan?” Mom Raina came carrying a small plate of fried bananas.
The voice startled Fathan where he stood. Mom Raina appeared from the living room, her hair neatly tied back. Her sorrowful eyes gazed at her son, who stood frozen near the door.
“Where have you been?” Mom Raina asked gently as she walked closer and set the plate on the table.
Fathan’s heart pounded. His small fingers clenched the shorts dotted with a little dirt.
“I... I was in the yard,” Fathan answered haltingly, blinking in panic as his gaze remained fixed on the floor. There was unmistakable fear on his small face, something he couldn’t hide.
Seeing her son’s defensive, shrinking reaction, Raina’s expression crumpled. A sharp, unbearable pain throbbed in her chest. She could clearly see how a child as small as Fathan had already learned to be afraid and always brace himself for the storm of her emotions.
Raina knelt in front of Fathan. Her cold, trembling hands slowly reached out and gently cupped her only child’s cheeks.
“Fathan...” Mom Raina whispered, her voice catching as she held back tears. “Mom’s not angry, honey. You’re free to play wherever you want.”
Clear tears slowly rolled down Raina’s cheeks. She wiped Fathan’s face, looking straight into her son’s eyes, which still held a trace of confusion.
“I’m sorry... Forgive Mom for always making you afraid,” she murmured, pulling Fathan’s small body tightly against her chest.
Fathan shook his head. “No, Mom. Fathan isn’t afraid of you. Fathan was just worried I’d make you worry if I left the house. Forgive Fathan, okay, Mom? Earlier, Fathan was just helping the kid who lives next door. She fell.”
“What’s her name?” his mom asked.
“Um... That... Fathan didn’t ask. But her mom said her name was Farah.”
Raina laughed. “You’re something else. How could you not introduce yourself? All right, go wash your hands now. Mom will make some fried bananas.”
“Thank you, Mom.”