His father noticed the change and gently put a hand on his shoulder. "Lhasa, are you alright?" he asked, concern etched in his voice.
Lhasa blinked, shaking off his reverie. "Yes, Father. Just tired," he replied, offering a faint smile.
His mother glanced at him, her brows knitting together. "You've been spacing out a lot lately, especially during dinner and at night," she said softly. "Is something bothering you?"
"No, Mother," Lhasa said reassuringly. "Everything's fine."
After dinner, Lhasa washed up the dishes in the bucket outside under the moonlit sky. Later, as he sat reading his book, his gaze kept drifting from the pages to the window, where the darkness outside mirrored the murkiness of his thoughts. The room was filled with the soft sounds of his family preparing for bed.
He suddenly remembers his father's injury and approached his father, who was still playing with Akar.
"Father, let me see your knees," Lhasa said gently.
His father, smiling but weary, nodded and rolled up his trousers to reveal the fresh wounds. Lhasa carefully applied the ointment, ensuring to cover each wound thoroughly.
"Thank you, son," his father said, his voice filled with gratitude. "You always take such good care of us."
"It's nothing, Father. You work so hard. This is the least I can do," Lhasa replied, finishing the application.
Akar, who had been watching intently, piped up, "When I grow up, I want to help like Lhasa!"
His father chuckled, patting Akar on the head. "You already help a lot, my little one."
As the night deepened, the family gathered in the main room of their small home. The warm glow of an oil lamp illuminated the space, casting gentle shadows on the walls. Lhasa sat down with his book again, eager to dive back into the last chapter.
"Is that the book someone gifted you?" his father asked, noticing the title.
"Yes, Father. It's really interesting," Lhasa responded, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
"Knowledge is a precious gift," his father said thoughtfully. "Make the most of it."
Lhasa nodded, fully aware of the value his father placed on education despite their humble circumstances. He immersed himself in the book, absorbing the information as quickly as he could.
Meanwhile, Akar sat on his mother's lap, listening to her hum a soft lullaby. The soothing melody filled the room, creating a sense of peace and contentment.
As the moments passed, Lhasa finished the last chapter in front of his dad sleeping beside him. He closed the book with a sense of accomplishment and looked around at his family. They were his world, and he was determined to make them proud. Suddenly, Lhasa's eyes widened as he sensed something and hurriedly rushed outside into the dark, ensuring his family wouldn't notice.
In the empty corner of the kitchen hut, young Lhasa was struggling with himself and becomes horrified and lost as something tears up extremely painfully that he was unable to express but tears fall from his eyes. He clutched his chest in agony, trying to stop something from happening to him. Suddenly, blood came out of his mouth. In a darkening face and suffering with pain, he spoke with a helpless voice.
"No... not now. I have to hold on."
blood dripping from his mouth "I can't let them see me like this..." and stays silent strongly holding himself.
From outside, someone was hearing him, the case unseen but the horror unmistakable.
The next frigid morning dawned as usual, the biting cold piercing through the fabric of Lhasa's worn coat. He woke early, his breath forming misty clouds in the chill air, and checked his face side by side in the mirror and relieved after being satisfied.
Kodam, ever reliable in their unspoken pact, met Lhasa with a silent nod as they rendezvoused in the frosty dawn. Despite Kodam calling out to him, Lhasa remained unusually quiet, his demeanor giving off an air of unease that Kodam couldn't ignore.
"Hey, Lhasa," Kodam ventured, his voice tinged with concern, "you seem off today."
Lhasa's gaze flickered, his thoughts elsewhere, but he didn't respond immediately. Kodam, ever perceptive to his friend's moods, patiently awaited Oda, their third member in this fragile alliance.
Oda, dependable in his own way, arrived moments later, completing their trio. Lhasa, tapped Oda gently on the shoulder, handing over his meager stash of money without a word.
Oda accepted it with a grateful nod, his expression reflecting relief mingled with gratitude. "Thanks, Lhasa," he murmured, tucking the money away carefully, "this will help a lot. I promise to pay you back in a few days."
Lhasa nodded faintly, a small, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips before fading. It was enough for Oda to understand the unspoken gratitude and the weight of their unspoken agreement.
Lhasa deftly climbed the rough stone wall, with Kodam and Oda trailing below. Approaching the outskirts of their village, they spotted some trekkers hauling heavy bags and boxes towards them.
Kodam and Oda exchanged astonished glances as they observed the towering trekkers hauling their massive loads. The trekkers, catching sight of the boys, greeted them warmly amidst the chilly mountain air.
"Hello there!" boomed the tallest trekker, his voice echoing against the rugged terrain. "Heading to school so early?"
Kodam, never one to contain his enthusiasm, waved back with vigor. "Yes, yes! Bright and early!" even though he was lying.
The leader of the trekkers chuckled, a playful glint in their eyes. "Good luck at school," they chimed in jovially.
"Hey!" a sudden deep mature and chilling voice pierced through the air like a sharp blade, freezing everyone in place.
"Tell me, what's stashed away in that lead box of yours?"