Mafia Captured

10. He regained Consciousness

The playground outside echoed with the sounds of children playing and laughing. Some were engaged in a lively game of cricket, while others ran freely in the open field, their laughter blending with the gentle breeze that stirred the trees.

As soon as Sahira appeared, a group of children swarmed around her.

"Why are you so late today? We thought you weren't going to come play," asked Aima, a girl around the same age as Sahira. Her short, boyish haircut barely brushed her ears. She crossed her arms impatiently, glancing at the others—Salman, the chubby boy holding a ball, waiting for Sahira's explanation, and Junayed, who stood silently by, his glasses perched neatly on his nose. Little Zoya, Junayed's younger sister, clung to her brother's hand, staring up at Sahira with wide eyes.

Sahira sighed dramatically, as though the weight of the world rested on her tiny shoulders. "Oh, don't even ask! My mom made me finish my homework before I could leave. I had to sneak out just to come play!"

The group collectively sighed in relief. Salman, always cheerful, grinned at her. "Thank goodness you made it!"

The group, at that age where the smallest things could bring joy, quickly moved past the tension and into their usual chatter. Aima complained about her mother, who had promised her chocolates every day if she cut her hair short, but now after the haircut, her mother was withholding the treat. Everyone immediately agreed this was an unforgivable betrayal and Aima's mother was in the wrong. Promises, they declared with the righteous conviction only children can muster, were sacred. A promise should always be kept. And just like that, they quickly forgot about the matter, losing themselves in tales of imagination, as children often do.

Arsalan, standing quietly on the sidelines, observed everything. This world was entirely new to him—a world so full of carefree innocence. He had never been a part of anything like this before. In his life, there was no room for play or childhood. His life followed a strict routine. Every morning, he woke up, went to school, came back home, attended private tutoring, and then practiced his training. That was his life, and he had accepted it as normal. Emotions rarely touched him, and as a result, nothing seemed to matter much. He had been taught only one thing: to conquer the world. To win and dominate. And so far, that was all he had focused on.

He had never encountered so many children at once in his 13 years of life. So, their carefree world was a source of constant amazement to him.

It was Junayed who first noticed Arsalan standing quietly. The rest of the group was too engrossed in Sahira's tale about her dream the night before, where she was a princess being chased by a terrifying dinosaur. She dramatically recounted how she bravely fought off the dinosaur, leaving her friends wide-eyed and on edge.

Suddenly, as if she had just remembered something, Sahira lightly smacked her forehead. "I almost forgot!" she exclaimed, grabbing Arsalan's hand and pulling him forward as though presenting a prized possession. "Meet Arsalan. He's my new best friend," she announced , her eyes bright with pride.

Aima's jaw dropped. Just the day before, Sahira had declared her as her best friend. Now, out of nowhere, there was someone new?

"But I thought I was your best friend," Aima said, her voice laced with hurt. Her small heart not able to handle the idea of being replaced.

"You are my best friend, but so is Arsalan. You're my *first* best friend, and Arsalan is my *second* best friend," Sahira explained as if it were the simplest thing in the world.. Aima seemed satisfied with that, her wounded pride somewhat healed. Salman, however, wasn't so easily placated.

"And what about us?" Salman asked, feeling left out.

"You're not my best friend. Remember when you didn't share your chocolate with me the other day?" Sahira asked, still hurt by the memory of Salman's refusal to share. The guilt of that moment was still fresh for Salman.