"I DON'T WANT IT!"
The girl's voice broke into a scream.
Before anyone could react—
She started hitting her own stomach.
Hard.
Again.
And again.
"Stop—!" the nurse shouted, rushing forward.
Another nurse dropped what she was doing and ran toward her. Together, they grabbed the girl's hands, trying to hold her still.
"Please! Please, don't—!"
The girl cried louder.
Uncontrollable.
Desperate.
The baby in another corner started crying.
Then another.
Fear spread across the room like something alive.
Some girls covered their ears.
Some just stared.
Frozen.
Others looked down at their own stomachs.
Trembling.
Aria stood there—
Unable to move.
Unable to think.
The sound—
The cries—
The pain in that room—
It was too much.
Her chest tightened.
Her breathing felt uneven.
And then—
Crash!
Glass shattered.
A stone flew in through the window.
Aria flinched hard, spinning around.
The stone hit the frame beside her—
A picture of Gandhi—
And fell to the floor.
For a second—
Everything froze.
A nurse rushed toward Aria.
"Are you okay?" she asked quickly.
Aria nodded faintly.
She wasn't.
But she couldn't speak.
Behind her, Rithul had already picked up the fallen frame and placed it carefully on the table.
The nurse turned toward the others.
"Be careful," she said, her voice tense. "It's them again."
The girls immediately looked toward the window.
Fear.
Pure fear.
Rithul's expression darkened.
"They still haven't stopped?" he asked.
The nurse looked down.
"You've already done so much," she said quietly. "We don't want to cause more trouble."
Rithul didn't reply.
He walked toward the window.
And looked outside.
A group of men stood on the narrow street.
Throwing stones.
Laughing.
Mocking.
The moment they noticed Rithul—
They froze.
His gaze—
Cold.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
It was enough.
They stepped back.
Murmuring.
Then turned away.
Leaving.
But not quietly.
"Disgusting…"
"Why is this place still open…"
"If that boy wasn't here…"
"Shame to society…"
Their words lingered.
Ugly.
Heavy.
Aria heard every single one.
From where she stood—
She could see them leaving through another broken window.
Her fingers tightened.
Slowly—
She turned toward Rithul.
Confusion filled her eyes.
But before she could say anything—
A soft voice came from beside her.
Aria turned.
A girl sat there.
Close.
Near the window.
She was holding a baby.
She looked at Aria—
And smiled.
A small smile.
Tired.
But real.
Aria hesitated for a second—
Then smiled back.
"…How old are you?" she asked quietly.
"Eighteen," the girl replied.
Aria's gaze dropped to the baby.
Then back to her.
Confusion.
Shock.
Unspoken questions.
"Aria."
Rithul's voice cut in.
Firm.
Calling her.
She turned.
And slowly walked toward him.
As she moved—
Some of the girls looked at her.
Silently.
Their eyes followed her.
There was something in those gazes—
Not hatred.
Not curiosity.
Something else.
Something heavier.
Longing.
A few of them looked down again—
At the babies in their arms.
At their stomachs.
At their lives.
Like Aria—
Standing there—
Free.
Unbroken.
Was something they once dreamed of.
And lost.
Aria followed Rithul slowly.
Questions crowded her mind.
Too many.
Too heavy.
But none of them came out.
She stayed silent.
Watching.
Observing.
For the first time—
really seeing.
Room after room passed.
Each one felt the same.
Beds.
Silence.
Broken voices.
Girls.
So many girls.
Most of them young.
Too young.
As Aria walked past, some of them looked at her.
Not just looked—
stared.
Like she was something distant.
Something they once were.
Something they had lost.
That look—
It made her chest tighten.
She felt it.
Their silence.
Their pain.
But she couldn't look back for long.
She was scared.
Confused.
And somewhere deep inside—
Ashamed.
Ashamed that she had never tried to understand this world before.
Her eyes burned slightly.
Tears formed—but didn't fall.
She kept walking behind Rithul.
Step by step.
"…Rithul, I—"
Before she could finish—
They stopped.
A room.
And the moment Aria looked inside—
Her breath hitched.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
Shock froze her in place.
On the bed—
A girl.
Still.
Unmoving.
Machines beside her.
A drip connected to her hand.
Her body looked fragile.
Weak.
Bandages covered parts of her arms.
Her fingers were stiff, supported carefully.
One leg was wrapped and secured.
Her face—
Bruised.
Swollen.
One eye covered.
The other… open.
But empty.
She wasn't crying.
She wasn't speaking.
She was just staring at the ceiling.
Like she had gone somewhere far away—
even while still being there.
Alive.
But not really living.
Aria couldn't breathe properly.
Something inside her broke.
She turned—
And ran.
Out of the room.
Out into the corridor.
Rithul followed, but didn't stop her.
Aria reached the edge of the building, near a window.
She held onto the frame tightly.
Her chest rising and falling fast.
The air felt heavy.
Hard to breathe.
Everything felt—
Too much.
The smell.
The silence.
The memories of what she just saw.
But more than anything—
The pain.
Not just of that one girl.
Of all of them.
Aria shut her eyes tightly.
Her fingers trembled.
For the first time—
This wasn't just a "problem" to solve.
This wasn't just KHSS.
This was the world.
And she had never truly seen it before.
Rithul followed her quietly.
He stopped beside her near the window, leaning against the wall.
Aria was still staring outside.
Unfocused.
Lost.
Her voice came out slowly.
Broken.
"…What happened to her?"
For a moment—
Rithul didn't answer.
Then he smiled.
Not a happy smile.
Not even close.
It was the kind of smile that carried pain.
The kind that had seen too much.
"Clara," he said.
A pause.
"Clara… was the most brilliant student in GHSS."
Aria's eyes shifted slightly.
"There wasn't a single award she didn't win," he continued. "Academics, arts, competitions… everything."
His voice softened.
"But that wasn't even the best part."
He looked down for a second.
"She was kind. Genuinely kind. The kind of person people don't forget easily."
A bitter breath escaped him.
"She was beautiful too… not because of how she looked. Because of who she was."
Silence fell between them.
"That was a few years ago."
Aria's fingers tightened on the window frame.
Rithul's gaze hardened slightly.
"Now…" he said quietly, "she's just a 'mistake' in some people's eyes."
"A stain. A dishonor."
"The same people who praised her…"
"…forgot her."
"The ones who were supposed to stand for her—"
"…turned away."
"Even the ones who loved her."
His voice dropped.
"Family. Friends."
"Gone."
Aria's vision blurred.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
"And now…" Rithul continued, looking back toward the room, "she's here."
"In this place."
"In that bed."
"Staring at a ceiling that won't answer her."
Aria lowered her head.
Her voice trembled.
"…Why?"
"Why didn't she get justice?"
"Why didn't she go to court?"
Rithul let out a quiet, hollow laugh.
"Court?"
He looked at her.
"The law works differently for different people, Aria."
His eyes held hers.
"You're still innocent enough to believe it doesn't."
Aria frowned slightly, shaking her head.
"That's the past," she said, her voice gaining a little strength. "This is 2026. Things are different now."
Rithul didn't respond immediately.
He just looked at her.
Long.
Quiet.
Then—
a faint, almost tired smile touched his lips.
"Are they?"