CHAPTER 19: THE BLAST OF THE FIREWORK'S PAST
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Nine.
Years.
Ago.
The world was painted in a softer palette then.
The morning sunlight slanted through the bedroom window, cutting through the dancing dust motes to hit the back of a young boy's head.
His short, dark hair seemed to catch the light, glowing like the jagged horizons of a sun-bleached mountain range.
For that brief window of time, he was at peace—a deep, uncomplicated tranquility that he assumed was the natural state of the world.
Every day felt like this.
Eternal.
Safe.
He sat on the plush carpet, mumbling unintelligible stories to himself as he maneuvered two plastic figures.
They were heroes of his own making, embarking on a grand quest across the kingdom of the living room rug.
"Narasao, let's go take a shower! You'll be late for the first day of school, and we don't want to miss the opening ceremony!"
His mother's voice drifted in from the hallway, musical and warm.
Narasao looked up, a bright glint appearing in his eyes.
He nodded so hard his whole body moved, instantly dropping his toys where they lay.
He scrambled to his feet, a playful pout forming on his lips as he sprinted toward her.
He didn't just walk; he launched himself at her, wrapping his small arms around her waist in a fierce, loving hug.
"Mommy, can I take a shower with you? Pleaseee?"
He tilted his head back, looking up at her with a wide-eyed, hopeful expression that he knew she couldn't resist.
Eyes whose irises were as thick and rounded as the moon.
They were never always thin.
His mother let out a bright, melodic laugh, her hand reaching down to caress his cheek and smooth over his messy hair.
"Of course you can, my little explorer," she said happily, booping his nose before leading him toward the bathroom.
The morning was a blur of domestic bliss.
It was a limited, precious time—the shared laughter in the steam of the shower, the soft touch of a towel, the gentle tug of her hands as she helped him pull on his crisp, new school uniform.
When he finally stepped out, he was greeted by the sight of his father, who had come home from his night shift early just to attend this milestone.
Even his big sister was there, buzzing with an energy that matched his own.
At that moment, they were a perfect family.
A seamless unit of four, bound by a love that felt as sturdy as the walls around them.
Once everyone was ready, the air in the house was thick with giggles and the rustle of bags.
This was it—Narasao's first real step into the world at seven years old.
As they spilled out of the front door and onto the sun-drenched sidewalk, they were greeted by the sight of their neighbor, a woman known for her deep piety.
"Hey there, going out so early?" she asked, leaning over her garden fence with a watering can in hand.
Narasao's mother beamed at her, adjusting the collar of Narasao's shirt. "Yes, we are finally heading out for Narasao's first day of school. It's a big day for us. Are you coming along to the park later, Miss Idila?"
Miss Idila shook her head with a gentle, apologetic smile. "I'm afraid I can't join you today. I have to attend the church service to praise the Lord. But may God bless you all on your journey and keep you safe."
The neighbor set her watering can down and made a slow, deliberate sign of the cross.
She then bent down, reaching over the fence to playfully pinch Narasao's cheek.
"What a cute little boy... brave enough for your first day of school, are you? May God bless the rest of your school days too, little one."
Narasao laughed heartily, his chest swelling with a pride he didn't quite understand.
The family piled into the car, waving frantically at Miss Idila until her house disappeared behind the bend in the road.
The interior of the car felt like a sanctuary. His mother, his sister, and his father—everyone was there.
No one was missing.
Narasao sat in the back, his small legs swinging back and forth, unable to keep the wide, toothy grin off his face.
It felt as though he was on the ascent of a grand roller coaster, the kind that made your stomach flip with excitement, but this ride was softer, warmer, and filled with the scent of his mother's perfume.
But the real treasure, the promise that had kept him awake half the night, was the celebration planned for later.
"Hehe, I'm gonna see the fireworks for the first time tonight!" he whispered to himself, his voice a tiny trill of wonder.
In the front seats, his parents shared a look in the rearview mirror, their smiles softening.
They could hear the pure, unadulterated joy in his voice.
He's so excited, they thought in a silent, shared language of parental pride.
Narasao was obsessed with the idea of the lights.
He loved the vibrant colors of fireworks—the way they bloomed like flowers in the deep, velvet shadow of midnight, and the way they brought smiles to everyone's faces, no matter how loud or dangerous they seemed from a distance.
Inside the car, he was a live wire of anticipation.
He was trembling so much he could hardly sit still, his hands itching to pull the door handle before they had even arrived.
After what felt like an eternity of driving, they finally reached the Little Caliphs Kindergarten of Taman Tuanku Jaafar, Seremban.
The school was a riot of color and noise.
It was a place teeming with life, filled with the high-pitched chatter of children and the low, comforting murmurs of parents.
Every corner of the playground seemed to hum with the possibility of new friendships.
Narasao stepped out of the car and gasped, his eyes widening as he took it all in.
It's perfect, he thought.
In his mind, he was already imagining the sky above this very building exploding in brilliant shades of crimson and gold.
His sister didn't give him a chance to linger in his daydreams.
She stepped in front of him, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and grabbed his wrist.
"Come on, slowpoke! Let's go play before the bell rings!"
Narasao followed her, his laughter erupting in joyful, high-pitched giggles as she pulled him into the swirling crowd of children.
They tumbled into the fray, immediately finding other kids to run with.
From the perimeter, their parents watched with folded arms and misty eyes.
They weren't the only ones; a dozen other adults stood nearby, hearts warmed by the sight of their seven-year-olds finally meeting the world head-on.
It was a milestone of growth, a beautiful transition into a life of learning and discovery.
"You're it! Hahaha! You can't catch me!" a boy shouted, darting past Narasao.
"Oh yeah? Come here! I'm going to bite you all over like a monster!" Narasao shrieked in delight, changing direction with reckless abandon.
"Help! A zombie! Save yourselves! Haha!" his sister cried out, leading a small pack of children in a frantic chase across the grass.
The playground was a symphony of "Hahahaha!" and "Gotcha!"
"Narasao, be careful! Don't run too fast or you'll trip!" his mother called out, her voice a gentle anchor amidst the sea of noise.
"Yes, Mommy!" Narasao yelled back over his shoulder, never once slowing his pace.
In that moment, their little world was a fortress of happiness.
There was nothing but the sun on their skin, the wind in their hair, and the sound of laughter that felt like it would never end.
It was a state of grace.
It would be years before the harsh realities of the world—the things their parents were already shielding them from—would begin to claw at the edges of their lives.
But that didn't matter right now.
Narasao was having the time of his life, surrounded by everyone he loved.
Time seemed to stretch, turning every minute of play into an eternity of joy.
He still wanted to see the fireworks, but this... this was just as magical.
For as long as it lasted.