Tangled Threads of Tradition and Love

Chapter-6

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✦𝓛𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓪𝓽 𝓱𝓲𝓶 𝓸𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓾𝓹✦

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Huan finished his soup, setting the empty bowl back on the tray with a soft clink. He stared at his phone, the last message from Nian still on the screen. His brother couldn't talk anymore-he had training. Huan sighed heavily, a deep weariness settling into his bones as he sat back on his bed. The tiredness wasn't just physical; it was the kind that seeped into his very soul, the kind that came from being scared for too long, from always running and never having anyone to truly confide in about the nightmares of his past.

He couldn't tell his little brother—he couldn't burden Nian with those dark memories. He was terrified that if he did, he might frighten Nian, or worse, make him even more worried than he already was. But deep down, Huan knew. He knew that Nian probably already had some idea of the horrors that had taken place behind those closed doors, even if they never spoke of it. The unspoken truth hung between them like a shadow, too dark and heavy to bring into the light.

He couldn't tell Marcus or Ella either. They had asked about his past, especially in the beginning, but eventually, they stopped prying, sensing that it was a wound he couldn't bear to reopen. They were still supportive, always there for him in their own ways, and Huan was more than grateful for that. But the idea of them knowing the full extent of his pain-of the things he'd endured-was unbearable. He couldn't let them see that part of him, the part that was broken and raw.

Even with other friends, Huan kept up the same facade. Half of the SSE tech students knew him as the friendly, smart foreign kid-the one who was always smiling, always willing to lend a hand. They were nice to him; no one picked on him, and he made sure to act as friendly and sociable as possible. He wore his happiness like a mask, an armor he'd crafted over the years to protect himself from the pity he feared more than anything else. Because no one likes a sad person, right? No one wants to deal with someone who's drowning in their own darkness.

But beneath that mask, Huan felt unbearably alone. Even when surrounded by people, even when they laughed and joked with him, there was a deep, gnawing emptiness inside. He felt as though he had no voice, as though he were trapped in a silent scream that no one could hear.

The loneliness was suffocating, wrapping around his heart like a cold, unyielding fist. And no matter how hard he tried to break free, it seemed that the only thing he could do was keep pretending-keep smiling, keep acting like everything was fine-when inside, he felt like he was falling apart.

"Are you okay?" Akira's voice cut through the heavy silence, pulling Huan out of his spiraling thoughts.

Huan turned to face him. Akira was sitting at his desk, scrolling through his phone. From where Huan sat, he could see the screen, filled with screenshots of Akira in various action poses from the examination. They looked so out of context and awkward that Huan nearly laughed.

"I'm all right, thanks for asking," Huan replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Akira noticed that Huan had seen the photos and quickly put his phone away, a slight flush coloring his cheeks. "Sorry... My younger family members saw the examination clips and made sure to take at least a hundred screenshots..."