The setting sun cast long, dramatic shadows across the cobbled streets of the old quarter as Zazm hurried home from his capoeira class.
The air was thick with the scent of roasting chicken from a nearby grill, mingling with the sweet scent coming out from a flower shop next to it.
Zazm, breathless from his rigorous training, wearing his casual black clothes, his slightly long hair covering his forehead, his shirt looked like it was glued to his skin due to sweat, making his muscles visible.
"Ahh.... I need to hurry up." Zazm rushed to a nearby place he was invited. A few minutes ago he had gotten a call from his friend, it was a weird call, "Why did Nox called me?"
Zazm was still lost into the thoughts of the earlier call, the thing that was bothering him was the minimum information. Jahanox just called him and asked him to meet as soon as possible.
The crosswalk pulsed with impatient energy. Cars revved, horns honked a staccato symphony of urban impatience.
The light, a glaring crimson eye, screamed STOP. But Zazm, lost in his own mind, barely registered it. He'd stepped off the curb, one foot hovering mid-air, poised to cross.
The world around him faded. The rumble of the city became a distant hum, the impatient shouts of pedestrians a muffled murmur.
He stood there, a statue of inattention, one leg frozen in mid-stride. The red light glared. A beat-up pickup truck, its driver's face a mask of annoyance, screeched to a halt, its bumper inches from Zazm's dangling foot. The driver leaned on the horn, a long blast that sliced through Zazm's thoughts.
He looked down at his hovering foot, then up at the glaring red light. His cheeks flushed crimson, not with the heat of battle, but with the heat of embarrassment. He stumbled back onto the curb, muttering an apology to the furious driver.
"Hell.... I nearly died there." Zazm slightly chuckled to himself and started looking at the red light. He was just catching his breath when suddenly a thread entered his gaze.
Zazm looked at that thread to get his attention off and noticed that the threads was fluctuating vigorously, he focused on its trail and found a woman, who seemed to be in her early thirties, stood across the other side of the road.
She was wearing a normal office attire, her hair blonde, She was old but that didn't effect her beauty, but what caught Zazm's attention was her threads.
They were a lightish shade of while indicating she was a good an extremely good person.'Shame... Someone like her is gonna die...' Zazm thought to himself while still staring at the women.
---
"Man... I'm so bored, I wish I had a girlfriend or two." A young man with short hair and baggy clothes exited a coffee shop. His hands in his pocket his face that off someone who just got scammed or ripped.
He kicked a rock with full force and that hit a small pup, "Oh, sorry." He silently apologized under his breath and continued to walk, he reached the traffic signal and saw the light was red.
He rubbed his hand on his neck, "Tch... Just when I'm pissed things like this happen." He clicked his tongue at the red light but his thoughts suddenly shifted when he looked at his right.
There stood a woman with seemingly blonde hair, 'Maybe it's not too bad' he thought to himself and a smile appeared on his face. He looked up to see the light had now turned red, the woman started to cross the road.
He also started to cross it when he suddenly saw a car coming towards the woman at a high speed, "WATCH OUT" He yelled and jumped towards the women.
He pushed both himself and her barely saving her life and they both now laid close to the other side of the road. The people nearby quickly gathered and helped them get up.
The woman quickly got up and thanked the man, the man put his hands in his pockets his face slightly red, he spoke in a flustered tone, "Just be careful next time." The woman smiled at that and his face turned even more red.
---
Watching all this unfold from this side was a young boy who was just going to meet his friend. His eyes suddenly started getting fuzzy, his hands started trembling.
He tried to move but he couldn't he looked down to find even his legs shaking. The scene that just unfolded Infront of him made him tremble, he grabbed his bag and started running while being panicked.
'Thi--Thiss is not possible.' His mind repeated one thing again and again. His body was visiblly trembling and his face was pale.
He couldn't walk anymore his knees felt weak, he went to a side alley and leaned across a wall, he slowly slipped down until he was looking at his own knees.
His knees attached to his chests, he couldn't even spoke properly, "Al-- all those people.... I- I could've saved them...." His mind rushed back to all those times he could've saved people.
He thought that if someone's threads were fluctuating that meant they were about to die and there was nothing that can be don't to save them, but now Infront of him the fluctuating threads became normal again.
He felt a pain in his heart Zazm knew he couldn't have saved all those people but he could've atleast saw a thousand people during the past year that he could've easily saved.
He started hitting his hand on to the wall..one...two....three... He continued to hit the wall unless a small crack appeared on it but he didn't stopped.
Dripp Dripp...
His hand was covered in blood and it was flowing down from his knuckles, he didn't know what to do know. He hadn't felt this helpless, this lost from a long time now.
Because of never getting attention of his parents and always being the outcast. He grew cold compared to other people. He couldn't care less about what happened to others.... Or so he thought.
A part of him was still human, a part that told him that all lives mattered to him. A part that was now shouting at him, that he could've saved several people, the only reason that woman survived was because of that man.
Zazm thought to himself that he never paid any attention, he never tried to save anyone. He simply accepted it and acted like it didn't matter, and continued to play games with threads.
He can hear a voice in his head shouting, reminding him the weight of his sins, the weight of what he had done.
Then, the first fat drops of rain began to fall. They splattered on the dusty pavement, a staccato rhythm against the silence of the alley.
Zazm didn't notice at first, lost as he was in the labyrinth of his grief. But as the rain intensified, the sound penetrated his despair. It started as a gentle patter, then escalated into a heavy downpour, the sky opening up and releasing its watery burden.
He lifted his head, almost involuntarily. The rain was coming down in sheets now, transforming the alley into a shimmering, watery world.
He sat there his eyes hollow, his hand covered in blood that was being washed by the rain, his face etched with despair all his past regrets he was trying hard to hide, showing up on it. His hair covering his eyes.
He felt the cold drops on his face, a stark contrast to the burning in his eyes. He didn't flinch, didn't seek shelter. Instead, he stepped out into the downpour, letting the rain soak him to the bone.
And then, something shifted. The suffocating weight on his chest began to ease, just a fraction. He felt comfortable.
The rain wasn't just water; it was a cleansing, a balm on his raw emotions. Each drop felt like a tiny caress, washing away the pain, the disbelief, the anger.
He closed his eyes again, this time, the images of childhood moving across his eyes, the time when he started seeing the first threads, the excitement he felt back then, the first time he saw a cat who he could've saved.
All thoughts swirled across his mind as he stared blankly at the sky. He felt connected to the rain, as if it understood his grief, as if it was crying with him.
The relentless drumming on the pavement, the rushing torrents in the gutters, the sheer force of the storm – it mirrored the tempest inside him, but somehow, in the shared chaos, he found a strange sense of peace.
He wasn't alone in his sorrow; the rain was with him, a silent, empathetic companion. He opened his eyes, and a small, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips.
The rain was cold, but in its icy embrace, Zazm found a sliver of warmth. He stood there, letting the rain wash over him, feeling the grief slowly begin to recede, replaced by a quiet, profound connection to the storm raging around him.
He didn't know how long he stood there, lost in the rhythm of the rain, but in that moment, he felt a sense of solace he hadn't expected to find. The rain, in its wild, untamed beauty, had become his confidante, his solace, his refuge.
Minutes turned into an hour and Zazm was finally feeling a little better. The rain finally started to stop, this was the heaviest rain of the season. He picked his now wet bag and hung it on his shoulder.
He exited the alley back to the Main streets that were now covered with water, people taking shelter in shops and stalls.
Zazm put his hands in his pockets, he shook his hair to remove his hair from his eyes. "I'm no hero and I'll never be." Zazm spoke his voice cold.
"I can't save everyone or anyone, it's not my responsibility." He told himself in an extremely cold way. But rather than talking to himself it felt like he was just reasoning with himself.
He still felt it all despair, grief and pain but he tried to bury it. He knew he had to live like this now, he couldn't let anything get in his way.
He walked continuously for 2 hours before reaching his house. The entire walk he was fighting with his own self in his mind. Trying to a find reason to leave it all behind to bury it all.
He opened the door to his apartment, greeted by the same scent of books and old papers. He went to his room and changed his clothes. He went in to the kitchen made himself a cup of tea.
He sat down on the couch and closed his eyes, he put the cup down and before he knew his eyes got shut and he was pulled into the world of dreams further away from the harsh reality.
---
Drinnggg
The sudden ringing in the door woke Zazm up. He woke up and squinted his eyes, before getting up to check who was there. He opened the door still half-asleep to find his neighbor standing there.
An old woman, this woman had a knack for inviting people to lunch, dinner or anything. And everytime Zazm managed to escape.
"Zazm... It's always pleasent to see you. I'm having dinner wanna come over? I have always invited others." She spoke in a soft and gentle voice.
'Sorry, but I'm not attending any party of old people' he thought to himself before he spoke, "I appreciate the offer but I have an exam tomorrow."
"My my is that why you look so pale and out of it? I apologize for interrupting you continue." She spoke in a worried tone before leaving. Zazm smiled slightly at her behavior and closed the door.
He went to the restroom and splashed water on his face, he looked at his face for a while before a smile appeared on his face.
Not a smile exactly his same grin he always carried, "Huh... I looked so pathetic" he let out a small chuckle. "If anyone saw me like that... I'll be a laughing stock." Zazm laughed to himself at his own pathetic display.
He quickly remembered that his friend invited him somewhere but he was so lost in his thoughts that he forgot about it.
"CRAPPP" He picked his phone and slowly opened it to find 12 missed calls from Jahanox. He was afraid to open the chat but somehow convinced himself to.
And he was greeted by exactly what he had expected. Jahanox has said some extremely pretty things to him, "Does even that many curses exist?" Zazm slightly laughed Knowing he'll have to deal with his friend tomorrow.
He replied him apologizing for not being able to come and told him he was busy. He was fine now, forgotten about the earlier situation but that's not only how it looked. In reality the entire incident had much greater effect on Zazm than one could've imagine but he had mastered masking himself with fake emotions afterall that's all he had done since his childhood.
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