Once back in Prapit's house, Akat barely got to see him. Vira had left the laptop as promised, and a note saying that he'd be in Marina most weekends, so they could work together if need be.
It had been almost three weeks, Prapit was almost always never at home. Sometimes, Akat dreamt of Prapit's gentle kiss on the forehead, sometimes he dreamt of Prapit being stabbed, he usually woke up with a cold sweat, but he did not message Prapit, as much as he wanted to.
He did not want Prapit to be put in danger, because of him missing or worrying about him.
A month had passed, it was almost the end of the year. He wanted to buy a New Year's present for Prapit.
New Year was a grand event. People exchanged gifts with their loved ones to show how much they cherished each other. It was also so the year would start with pleasant memories. The last day of the year, Hell's day, was when people wrote down their regrets and burnt them, symbolically burning away unpleasant memories.
Akat didn't know if Prapit would be there to celebrate their first New Year together, but he still wanted to get Prapit something.
Ever since he had become part of Prapit's household, he always got something from Prapit and Uncle Maran. He never had money to get them things, since he never took a penny as allowance, and he was strictly banned from taking up part time jobs.
"I will buy you what ever you want. Study, play, have fun. But I will not have you work any more." Prapit had told that to him the first time he had asked if he could work part time, and after that he didn't ask again.
Once, he did sneak out to find work, he wanted to get Prapit something for his birthday, but that had failed miserably. Prapit got so mad at him, he didn't speak to Akat for a week, and Akat didn't try to do anything Prapit didn't like after that. He hated fighting with Prapit. He did not tell him the reason though, it might have won him some brownie points, but he was too shy.
Uncle Maran noticed Akat staring blankly at the wall, sitting in the hall and sighing to himself. He went and sat next to him.
"What is troubling my young boy?" He asked, his usual gentle smile on his face.
"It's New Year in two weeks. What do I get Prapit?"
Uncle Maran thought for sometime. "He is quite rich, and has whatever he wants. I don't think he'd want anything. Ofcourse, if Akat buys, it will still hold a special place."
Akat shook his head. "I want to give him what he'd want, not just buy something for buying's sake."
Uncle Maran thought for a minute, and said, "why don't you make him something?"
"Make him something?"
"Hmm. He doesn't show it, but he is the sentimental sort. Let him know how precious he is, it can be something depicting precious moments, a painting, a wood carving. He hates cold, so you can knit him a scarf... I don't know. Think about it, do something for him instead of just buying it, it will move him. He still keeps all those birthday cards you drew for him and the notes you wrote to him. Don't tell him I told you this, but he still looks at them now and then, and then smiles goofily at them."
Akat stared at uncle Maran for a minute, then he hugged him. "You are a genius. I know exactly what to gift him."
He called up Vira. "Vira, I need your help. Can you help me with some wood and work space?"
Vira laughed from the other end. "You can come home. What is this for?"
"New Year present for Prapit."
"Okay, come home this weekend. I will be out with Saka. You can do as you please."
"Can I bring uncle Maran?"
"Why not? More, the merrier."
As he cut the call, he found uncle Maran stare at him. "Why do you want me tag along?"
Akat smirked,"I need a witness to prove my innocence. Prapit gets mad when I hang out with Vira."
Uncle Maran, "Ah! He feels you may fall in love with him."
Akat scoffed, "Like anyone else can take Prapit's place in my heart!"
Uncle Maran laughed, "He is madly in love with you, though he doesn't know to express it. So he gets possessive."
Akat's expression changed. "Uncle Maran, he is comfortable with me, but not in love with me."
Uncle Maran smiled. "Let me tell you something. He has been very much in love with you from the time you first kissed him."
Akat looked surprised, "That was one month back."
Uncle Maran shook his head. "It was seven years back."
Akat looked surprised. "Seven years?!"
Uncle Maran sighed. "The young master will never be honest with you, but I can't bear to see you both being so in love, and being this pathetic at it. Let me fill you in."
Akat didn't understand what uncle Maran was implying, but he nodded.
Uncle Maran sighed. "First let me start with how I crossed paths with Prapit."
Akat did not as much as blink. His entire attention was on uncle Maran.
"Prapit was found in a dustbin. Whether he was a child thrown away because he was unwanted by his parents, or a child stolen, no one knows. And Prapit never wanted to find out, so it will never be known.
He was picked up by the garbage collector who, on seeing him picked him up and dropped him at the temple."
"Temple?"
Uncle Maran smiled. "Unbelievable right? Yes, he was in the temple till he was nine. Most other kids belonged to the high priest family. Having no family background, he was ill treated by those around him, but that didn't bother him, since he was well loved by the head priest. He assisted with the chores and mastered the scriptures. He loved it when the priest praised him. He was treated very much like the priest's son. How do I know this? I have been a regular at the temple over the last forty years. I go there every single day.
He was around nine, when the head priest passed away. The next in command, a pathetic snob, ostrasized Prapit, and treated him like an untouchable. Prapit decided to run away.
There wasn't much a kid could do. He begged for food, but that didn't work out, he got picked at by the street hooligans. He took to picking pockets. Initially he was pathetic, but he soon came to be called "butterfingers." No one knew when they had their pockets picked.
Prapit became confident with time. By the time he was fourteen, he aced in the game of picking pockets, lying and street fighting."
Akat was listening to him intently. He had always been curious about Prapit but had never dared to ask. Even if he did, Prapit would have brushed him off.
"He was brilliant, but it was a pity that brilliance was used for crooked means. He ended up stealing from a mafia when he was fourteen, and not just any mafia, but the mafia head of a large group, the one that is now called Prana."
Uncle Maran paused. There was absolute silence. Akat didn't say anything. He waited for uncle to continue.