The second day of Thingyan.
Outside, the streets were alive with chaos. Water fights erupted between kids, laughter mixed with shouts, and the familiar beats of Thingyan music blared from loudspeakers on every corner. It should have been a day of celebration. The sun burned hot, glistening off the water being splashed across the streets. But inside this small tea shop, it felt like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something it couldn't name.
The four of them sat in their usual corner booth, but it wasn't the same. They were just bodies in seats now—distant, disconnected. The absence of Thura loomed in the space between them, too large to ignore.
Ko Aung had his hands wrapped around his cup, the warmth seeping into his skin, but his gaze was empty. His eyes never really focused on anything. He kept thinking back to Thura's face—the way it twisted in pain, the way he had crumpled like a rag doll.
"I still can't get his face out of my head," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Min Zaw, sitting across from him, let out a shaky breath. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as if trying to protect himself from the weight of the moment.
"It doesn't feel real," he said softly. "I keep thinking maybe I'll see him again later... like it didn't happen. But then I remember. And it doesn't go away."
Kyaw Lin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his leg bouncing nervously beneath the table. He'd been the one closest to Thura when it happened, the one who tried to drag him away from the scene, but he hadn't been fast enough. His hands trembled as he spoke, almost like he was trying to outrun the image of Thura screaming.
"He didn't even see it coming. One minute he's laughing, joking about getting drenched, and the next—" He choked on his words. "It was like his skin was... melting off." He clenched his fists, eyes squeezed shut as if trying to shut out the memory.
Zaw Thiha watched them quietly, not saying anything. He hadn't cried—not yet. But there was something in his eyes, a flicker of something darker, something unspoken. He took a slow sip from his cup, his eyes never leaving the table.
"People get hurt during Thingyan all the time," he said, his voice a little too calm. "Accidents happen. Water fights get out of hand."
Ko Aung shot him a look, his fingers tightening around his cigarette like he was about to snap it in half.
"You don't believe that. And neither do I. This wasn't an accident." The words came out harsher than he intended, but they were the truth. It couldn't have been random. Thura was targeted, and whoever did it wasn't done yet.
Min Zaw stared down into his tea, the swirls of the leaves spinning around the surface like his thoughts, too tangled to make sense of.
"What if they come after us next?" The words were small, quiet, almost lost in the heavy air between them. But they landed with a weight none of them wanted to acknowledge. "What if we're next?"
Kyaw Lin let out a long, shaky breath.
"It doesn't feel safe anymore," he muttered. "I keep thinking—who would do this? Who do we know that would do this to Thura?"
Zaw Thiha finally met his eyes, his expression unreadable. "We're all just sitting here like it's nothing, and maybe that's the point. Whoever did this—they want us to feel afraid. To question everything."
Ko Aung dropped his cigarette to the floor, grinding it out with the heel of his shoe.
"I'm done sitting around. We need to figure out who did this. We need to find out why." His voice was firm now, determined, though the fear in his eyes was hard to mask. He wasn't just speaking for himself; he was speaking for all of them.
Min Zaw shot a glance at him. "And then what? What's the plan after we find out who did it?" He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Ko Aung, this isn't a water fight we can just walk away from."
Kyaw Lin shifted, his voice suddenly sharp. "Maybe it's time to stop pretending. It's not just some random thing. Someone did this on purpose, and if we don't do something, it's just gonna keep happening."
The tension in the room grew thicker. Outside, the laughter and splashes continued, a stark contrast to the heavy silence inside the tea shop. Ko Aung's jaw tightened, his gaze still fixed on the door. It felt like the world outside was moving too fast, too loud, and here, in this small corner of the world, they were suspended in something darker.
"We can't just sit here and do nothing," Ko Aung said, his voice stronger now. "We need answers."
Zaw Thiha met his gaze, his expression unreadable.
"And then what? We burn everything to the ground?" There was a hard edge to his words, as if the idea of facing this head-on didn't sit well with him. But they could all feel it. It wasn't just a matter of justice anymore—it was survival. "There's more to this. You know that, right?"
They all knew. It wasn't just about Thura. It was about everything they'd taken for granted. The normalcy of their lives was gone, replaced by a fear that would follow them long after Thingyan ended.
Ko Aung stood up, suddenly restless, and threw a few bills on the table.
"I'm not going to wait around for answers to come to us." His voice was low, determined. "We have to find out who did this."
The door swung open, and the sound of the outside world—laughter, shouting, water splashing—broke the silence in the shop. For a moment, they all looked at each other, the weight of what lay ahead settling between them. It wasn't over. Not yet.