Surjo came to a sudden, jolting halt. His heart was still thumping inside his chest like a blacksmith's bellows. Somehow regaining his composure, he practically shouted in a half-muffled voice, "Ugh! You truly gave me a fright!"
"You were scared...?" The girl threw the question out in a very slow rhythm, her head bowed. An unknown melancholy seemed laced within her tone.
Immediately, Surjo's senses returned. Hearing his own absurd admission, he realized what massive damage he had just done to his self-crafted 'Hero' image! To admit to being afraid was to grind his bravery into the dust.
He quickly clamped his hand over his mouth. Shifting his gaze guiltily, he looked away, as if wishing to dig an invisible hole and bury the mistake he had just made.
In a slightly trembling, hurried voice, he blurted out, "yoke! Why do you understand so little? Did I say I was scared? I only said, why are you following me!"
He paused for a moment, organizing his words mentally before emphasizing again, "I didn't say at all that I was scared." Attempting a failed effort to meet her eyes, he infused his voice with extra gravity, "...That I was afraid—I didn't say that even once! Not at all, you understand?"
But Surjo's falsely confident eyes could not reach the girl's gaze. For a little kid standing before him remained as still as a stone statue, her head still bowed.
At that precise moment, a sharp sliver of moonlight, emerging from behind the clouds, crashed directly onto the girl's face. Surjo watched, stunned—a single transparent tear rolled down her cheek, touched her chin, and then fell 'tup' onto the damp green grass of the darkness.
Perhaps that green grass had just tasted a salty drop for the first time. A salty drop filled with pain.
Surjo's voice caught in his throat. Seeing that teardrop roll down her cheek, he couldn't bring himself to ask directly—why was she crying? To lighten this heavy and strange moment, he took refuge in his previous question once more.
"Why... why are you coming after me?" He tried to keep his voice as natural as possible.
The girl finally raised her head slowly. Her voice was broken, as if years of accumulated exhaustion were falling away in an instant. "I have nowhere else to go. And... even my last possession, this violin, is broken. Could you give me a little shelter at your place tonight?"
As she spoke, the girl tried her best to hold Surjo's gaze, but a wave of hesitation caused her sight to droop a moment later.
Hearing the request for shelter, the inside of Surjo's chest turned ice-cold with fear. The state of his home—rubbish everywhere, filth, and layers of dust; it wasn't fit for a human to live in. He couldn't imagine how he would take this clean and ethereal girl into that hellhole! The thought of showing her his extreme poverty and untidiness made Surjo shrink inward.
Yet, his heart was breaking at the thought of saying 'no' directly to her face. "Actually... ya... oh... m... a..."
Surjo began to literally stammer. His lips trembled, and beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. Finally, gathering all his inner strength, he opened his mouth with great difficulty. "At my house... I can't take you there."He takes a long break and says "...I'm sorry!"
As he said the words, a sharp cry rose in Surjo's own mind. Genuine remorse dripped from his voice, as if he couldn't forgive himself.
"Help me... please help me a little!"
A heart-wrenching wail broke from the girl's voice. Tears shimmered, overflowing her eyes; it seemed she would collapse into uncontrollable sobbing at any moment. Surjo's heart twisted. Looking at her helpless face, he couldn't find the strength to say 'no' a second time. His mind grew heavy with deep guilt and tenderness.
But thinking of his dilapidated, filthy shelter, he felt extreme discomfort. Necessity being the mother of invention, he quickly changed the subject to manage the situation. "Oh! I remember! You need to get the violin fixed first..."
Hearing the mention of fixing the violin, the girl's crying stopped as if by magic. With tearful eyes, she asked in a faint whisper, "Does that mean... my violin will really be fixed?"
"Yes, of course it will!" Surjo reassured her with confidence.
The girl took a moment, then frowned thoughtfully. "But... didn't you say you'd take it tomorrow morning?"
Surjo faltered. A moment later, he thought this little girl probably wouldn't catch the twists in his words. He hemmed and hawed, making a desperate attempt at a lie, "Actually... I thought I'd take you today. Then, I mean..."
Surjo truly didn't know how to lie. Seeing his stammering and awkward face, he suddenly asked a strange question to hide his failure, "Tell me, are you alone like me...?"
For those whose fates are tied by the same thread, it doesn't take long to understand unspoken words. Realizing Surjo's hint, the girl smiled faintly. But it became clear from her next words that she wasn't entirely alone like Surjo.
"I wasn't alone from the beginning," she said in a low voice.
"Meaning?" Surjo was surprised.
"There was someone who left me halfway and went away."
Surjo quickly tried to offer sympathy, "I'm so sorry... is he no longer here?"
Realizing Surjo had the wrong idea, the girl shook her head quickly, "No, no, he's alive!"
Hearing this, Surjo's face puckered with rage and annoyance. He began to wave his arms excitedly, saying, "Listen, let me tell you something... whoever that guy is, if I ever meet him, I'm going to land a h-a-r-d punch on his face! A real solid one!"
He spoke the words so fast and in such a rage that his tongue got tied. Getting stuck halfway, he made a grotesque, comical expression.
Seeing Surjo's stammering and bizarre face, the girl burst into a fit of giggles. Seeing her open-hearted laugh after so long, Surjo's inner discomfort vanished. He himself grinned, showing all his teeth in embarrassment.
Managing to stop her laughter with difficulty, the girl said, "But... you won't be able to hit him."
Hearing this, Surjo tilted his head to one side in utter confusion. "Why? Does he look like a wild bear or something?" Immediately dancing his small, clenched fists in front of the girl's eyes, he declared proudly, "Hey, don't you see this hand? I could knock out a whole bear with one punch from this!"
The girl shook her head again, "No-no, he's not a bear."
"Then what's the problem? Why can't I hit him?" There was a real challenge in Surjo's voice now.
The girl fell silent for a moment. The tears at the corners of her eyes had dried by then. She spoke in a slightly hesitant voice, as if asking for permission, "Well... if you give me permission, could I be the one to give him a punch?"
Hearing this, Surjo's eyebrows shot up to his forehead! His head seemed to spin 360 degrees for a moment—a thousand question marks whirled around his brain like spinning tops. Why she was asking for permission herself didn't quite click in his small head. But he didn't pay much more attention to it; instead, he held up his thumb heroically toward the girl. And he contorted his face into something resembling the fourth offspring of a mouse.
"Permission absolutely granted! Plant a punch on him Kung Fu style!" Hearing such a hilarious answer and seeing such a ridiculous face, the girl seemed to prepare for the next wave of laughter.