Author's Note: In the last chapter, Saria found herself losing her temper when Adia insulted Assef in front of her. She violently attacked the girl, causing the beginnings of tensions in an already rocky relationship. With a few well-placed lies, she was able to get things back on track. Now, a few more days have passed and we find her at home with her brother...

Thank you again to everyone who takes the time to read through my work, I truly appreciate all of my readers. Again, please be aware that the thoughts, feelings, speech and actions of the characters here do not necessarily reflect those of the writer.

Disclaimer that I do not own anything within the Kite Runner novel that is not an original character of mine. Any characters and plot points pertaining to the original novel belong to Khaled Hosseini.

With that said, please enjoy!


Snowflakes fluttered down from the sky. They landed directly on me - my overcoat, and the hem of my polka-dot dress now covered in little flecks of white. I lifted my hand, flicking the snow away from me, only for what seemed like far more to come down. Some landed on the table, some on the ground, but again, quite a lot landed on me. I rolled my eyes and continued to flick it away. A laugh echoed from across the table and I looked up to see my brother grinning playfully at me.

He gestured to the snow that had landed on my dress. "What, you don't like snow, Liebchen?" he asked, looking down at the snow that rested on the table. There was a hint of mirth to his voice, and I read his thoughts before he could turn them into actions. I tried to back away, but Assef was too quick for me. He picked up a ball of snow, tossing it at me. I shrieked, mouthing, 'hey, no fair!' and poking my tongue out at him. Well, two could play at that game. I picked up some snow of my own and chucked it at Assef. It bounced off of his coat, landing on the ground.

Assef and I were sat together in our back garden. About two days had passed since the incident with Adia - though I had done my level best to push that event to the back of my mind. Either way, today I had chosen to spend time with my favourite person, and so far, everything was going well. We'd been chatting back and forth, playfully teasing one another, just getting along in the way that only siblings as close as we were could.

Despite the bitingly cold weather, and the constantly falling snow, both Assef and I much preferred to spend time outside, especially when our parents were home. Though our bedrooms did offer some relative privacy, there remained that chance that Mahmood and Tanya might come bursting in, ready with a lecture or just to try and barge in on our private time. Neither of us wanted that, so here we were. Privacy. Or... as much privacy as one could get in the Ahmed household.

I glanced towards our swimming pool. It was empty, of course. Mahmood always cleared the pool whenever winter rolled in - or rather, he hired people to clear it out. Now, it was just an empty pit of fallen snow, and some of the pines from our palm trees had landed in there too. Resting my hand on my chin, I looked wistfully at it. "I wish I could go swimming right now," I said, "just... dive right in there."

"You realise you'd break both your legs if you dove in now, Saria," Assef teased, gesturing towards the pool. "Given how deep it is, and all." He was right, of course. With no water in there, I would no doubt cause myself quite a bit of injury if I decided to go jumping on there right now. All the same, how I longed for the freedom that came with swimming. That was one of the sports that I was quite good at - Tanya having been utterly adamant that Assef and I both learn from a very young age.

I drummed my fingers against my thigh - still looking out in that general direction. A gentle sigh escaped from my lips. "You're right," I muttered, "I mean, of course I can't go in there right now. But I'd like to at some point. When Mahmood gets it filled in again."

Assef nodded. "That won't be until springtime, Liebchen, you know that," he said. "Not until the weather gets much, much warmer. Probably late February, early March." Ah yes. When my brother and I would be back in school - and therefore expected to spend most of our time doing homework and being the best students that we could. I rolled my eyes at the very thought. Assef chuckled. "Besides, any water that goes in there now will freeze within seconds, you know that."

He had a point there. Shrugging, I quipped back, "Could go ice-skating then, couldn't we?"

My brother was just about to respond, when we heard footsteps approaching, breaking us out of our reverie. Oh, just great. Just our luck. Remember how I mentioned that we were spending time here because we wanted privacy from Mahmood and Tanya? Well, Mahmood needed to get on the ball in that regard. He was making his way towards us, arms swinging by his sides, dressed formally in a suit, his hair combed and no doubt gelled to the extreme. He looked so ridiculous that I had to remind myself not to throw my eyes up to heaven.

As he reached us, Mahmood placed his hands on his hips. He stood there, his eyes narrowed. The look on his face was nothing short of disgusted. He looked as though he had just stood in dog crap. He looked at my brother and I as though we were that dog crap. As though we were... less... than that dog crap. Assef's face fell and he sighed, barely noticeable to anyone but I, before we turned on the charm once more, and plastic smiles wormed its way onto both of our faces.

Mahmood looked down at us. "I wondered where you'd both gotten to. You two enjoying yourselves?" he asked awkwardly. He moved from one foot to the other. Wondering where we'd gotten to? Hmm, I doubted that. The stupid man had no idea how to start a conversation with his children though, unless it involved scolding or lecturing us. He smiled, an action that lasted for but one moment before it disappeared again. My brother glanced at me, then back to Mahmood once more.

"Yes, Father," he replied, charming as always. "It's a lovely day, after all. Why not spend it outside?" I was, of course, the only one who understood the meaning behind that statement; why not spend it away from you. Mahmood was, of course, utterly and totally oblivious. Being the stupid fool that he is. He just took Assef's words completely at face-value.

He glanced at one of the chairs, perhaps wondering if he ought to sit with us. Which would have been a complete fucking disaster - and I found myself praying that it would not happen. Fortunately, my prayers were answered, though maybe not in the way that I'd hoped. Mahmood walked around behind my chair and lent down to put his hands on my shoulders, making me tense up.

He looked down at me, then back to Assef. "Well, I really just came out here to inform you both that your mother and I will be going out for dinner tonight." Ah, of course. What other reason would there be for him to come and see us? Couldn't just want to spend time with his son and daughter, now could he? Well, this more than explained his formal attire. But... were they going right now? In the middle of the afternoon?

I was just about to voice that opinion but Assef got there before me. He glanced in my direction, then back at Mahmood, still with a charming grin on his face. "Oh. Are you going now then?" he asked, looking Mahmood up and down, indicating to his suit.

Mahmood nodded, straightening his tie. "Yes. I have an important business meeting today." Ah, yes. Of course he did. Why am I not surprised? He continued on. "It's a few hours drive up there, so your mother and I will be leaving as soon as we're both ready, and probably won't be back for the rest of the evening. So, Assef, you are in charge for the evening. There's food in the fridge and..." He reached into his pocket and removed some cash, placing it down on the table. "here, if you need to go to the market and buy something for yourselves."

He was trying to act like a "nice" father, giving us money, treating us, but was failing miserably. All I could think of was the fact that Assef and I still had plenty of the money that he had stolen from Mahmood earlier. We certainly did not need more of it, though we wouldn't complain. But of course, Mahmood didn't know that. All he cared about was doing the bare minimum to ensure that his children had what, he thought, they needed.

Of course, what really mattered to him was the business meeting he needed to attend. Kissing ass, impressing people, sucking up to anyone who may have happened to be even the slightest bit more powerful than he - that was the Mahmood Ahmed way. That was, of course, the reason that he had managed to acquire such high levels of pay and privileges for himself - and why he often came up for promotion within the airport that he worked. Pathetic, in my eyes, but I guess there was no point in voicing that opinion. But I'd heard this crap more than enough times to be almost used to it by now.

Assef took the money and slid it into his pocket. "Thank you, Father," he said. From the look in his eyes, I could tell that he was thinking the same as I - how ridiculous this whole thing was. He clasped his hands and leaned back in his seat. No doubt hoping that Mahmood would get the hint and go away. But no, oh no. He continued to drone on and on, talking about how important this meeting - which was funny, because he treated every meeting he went to like the most important one ever.

I was honestly struggling to pay attention. I wanted to get up and walk away, but Mahmood's hands on my shoulders prevented me from doing so. This is boring. What the fuck are you telling me this for? Do you think I care? Shut up, you stupid little man. I'm trying to spend time with my brother, stop fucking ruining it. Stop. Just... just go away. Get away from us! Damn it, just leave us alone!

Mahmood looked back to the house, then stepped back, finally removing his hands from off of my shoulders. He moved back, and I turned slightly to face him. His speech drew to its long overdue conclusion. "I need to get going. Like I say, we'll be gone for most of the afternoon. I'd say it'll be late this evening before we get back. Assef, you'll be in charge of your sister. Ensure that she goes to bed at a reasonable hour." He paused and fixed my brother with a pointed look. "Do not let her stay up until all hours of the night, please. And please, behave yourselves. Stay out of trouble."

He was looking at me when he said that, grinning. He was trying to have a teasing edge to his voice. No doubt in an attempt to make me giggle like the naive child he thought me to be. I ducked my head away, pretending to be bashful and shy. "We will, Papa," I replied, dripping with charm, purity and innocence. "Don't worry, everything will be fine. I hope your dinner goes well."

That was but another attempt to butter him up, of course, and to get him off of our back. But I did have to wonder; what would he consider to be 'getting into trouble'. Surely nothing close to what Assef and I actually did. Nothing like biting off ears or attacking friends, or anything of the like. That was clearly not what he thought at all. At least, not from his grinning and nodding at me. "I hope so too, Saria. You be a good girl and do as your big brother says, alright?"

Assef got to his feet, gesturing for me to do the same. I was a little unsure where this was going - the expression on his face was unreadable. "We will, Father, rest assured. Now, come on, Saria. I'll take you to the market for a few hours." He reached out, taking my hand, and leading me towards the back gate. He turned to Mahmood. "See you when you get back, Father."

With that, he lead me towards the back gate. His grip on my hand was tight, his knuckles white as they gripped my wrist. Our feet crunched as we walked through the snow, across our back yard. Assef reached up with one hand, the other still holding mine, and unlatched the gate. It swung open, and my brother looked down at me - that same unreadable expression on his face.

"Come on, Saria. Let's... we need to go." I barely had a chance to say a word before Assef was hauling me out the gate, power-walking through the streets. He turned one corner, then another corner, then another. This was... not the way we used to go to the market. I tried to figure out where, exactly, my brother was taking me, but I didn't have the chance to do so. Certainly, there was no way for me to stop and look around. It was taking all of my energy to keep up with Assef - to stop myself from tripping over my own damn feet.

I voiced my complaints to my brother, trying to yank myself free from his grasp. "Where are we even going?" I asked, irritation evident in my voice. He didn't answer, just continued to power-walk, speeding up to almost a run. It was obvious that there was something off about him - something weighing deeply on his mind. In other circumstances, I would have asked what was wrong. I would have been concerned, truly, and in some way I was. But, and forgive my selfishness for saying this, what I was more concerned about not falling and twisting my ankles.

"Sl-Slow down," I griped, as my foot slipped on a piece of loose dirt and I almost fell, almost went right down to my ass. My brother noticed, though, and, muttering under his breath, placed his hand under my arm and lifted me back up. By now, I had figured out where we were going. The barracks. This was the same way that we had gone home after the incident with Farsef. The way that didn't go through the market. A shortcut. "Slow... slow the fuck down, Assef, please! What's wrong? What's the damn rush?!"

But I went ignored. We continued to walk - or rather, practically run, in Assef's case, and stumble like an idiot in my case - down the dirt-covered road, down the hill. Finally, the barracks came into view. Relief washed through me - maybe now my brother would stop this incessant running. We walked past the wall that Farsef had shoved me off of, and finally, Assef stopped. He released his grip on my hand, and took a few steps back, breathing heavily.

There was an old, upturned crate next to the wall. I made my way over and rather unceremoniously flopped onto it, reaching down to rub at my ankles, and my wrist. I was out of breath, achy, my sides burning. I clutched at them, trying to get my breathing under control, trying to prevent my head from spinning. Assef's expression was still utterly blank, just staring ahead. His little sister, on the other hand, was no doubt letting her emotions show like an open book.

"Thanks for almost tearing the hand off me," I snapped, holding my now red wrist out to him. "And for almost making me break my fucking ankle back there. Why the hell were you running like that for?" I continued to glare, waiting for an answer, for the explanation that I knew was owed to me. Assef looked down at me, and blinked, tilting his head from one side to the other. His face fell, his blue eyes expressing the guilt I knew he was now feeling for having caused me any sort of bother.

He flopped onto the upturned crate beside me, reaching out and drawing me close. "Forgive me, Liebchen," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of my head, and placing a lock of hair behind my ear. "I shouldn't have dragged you like that. Here, let me-" Taking a hold of my wrist, Assef picked it up and turned it over, checking it for any injuries. When he saw that it was fine - merely a little red, he made an audible noise of relief and placed it down again, before holding me close once more. "I didn't mean... I just... Sometimes I just get so angry - and not at you, never at you -" he added, as if the very thought was abhorrent to him "- but at Mahmood. You know how our parents infuriate me. You know what it's like. Self-righteous bastard. I couldn't stand being anywhere near him again. I just... had to get away. I had to get you away."

I nodded. That made sense. Mahmood would infuriate even those with the patience of a saint. Of course my brother would be angered by him, his patronizing attitude, his way of belittling us in every conversation. I couldn't blame him for feeling that way. And I knew I would forgive him for his earlier reaction - he hadn't meant to cause me bother - the guilty look on his face was more than enough to prove that. Assef and I hated the mere thought of bringing any sort of harm to one another.

Resting my head on his arm, I hummed softly. "It's okay. Assef. I understand, I do. Mahmood just has that way about him, doesn't he?" He nodded and I licked my lips, feeling myself begin to calm down from the issues of the day. The throbbing in my ankle was beginning to heal, my breathing became easier to manage, and I was no longer about to pick a fight with my brother for dragging me out here. "Don't worry about it, really. I'm fine."

Assef nodded, exhaling in relief. For a time, we just sat there, together, enjoying the refreshing weather and the incredible company. We engaged in small talk, chatting about this, that and the next thing. Anything that came to mind, really. Of course, this being us, quite a lot of our talk involved reminiscing over a past Just Because or two. Ah, but was there any harm in that? After all, a Just Because was my favourite activity to do with my brother. And the memories of those we had gone on before always warmed my heart.

But then... the more we talked about violence, the more we reminisced about causing pain to others, the more I was reminded of an act of violence that I had perpetrated not too long ago. Violence that had sprung forth from my core without me even thinking about it, violence that had been done on no more than a whim. An callous act that - while I may have tried to forget about it - was still lingering at the forefront of my brain.

If you're guessing that I'm talking about what I did to Adia, then your thinking would be correct. I did try not to think about it, I tried to push the event away, but... I couldn't help it. In the days since last Adia and I had been in each other's company, I would find myself thinking about what I had done to her. Her little face flashed before my eyes, a vision of terror under my devilish grip. Oh, the thrill of control. Yet there came another image, this one set to freeze my blood to ice. A brutal and traumatic "what if"? that I wrestled with every time I thought about Adia.

I decided I would voice my concerns. No point in letting them burn within me as they had done. Besides, Assef would know how to set my mind at ease - he always did. If nothing else, then telling him what I was feeling would no doubt be a load off of my back. Who else could I turn to, after all? I took his hand in mine, intertwining our fingers together. "Assef?" I whispered, my voice far tinier than I'd expected it to be.

He blinked down at me, eyebrows raised. From the concern on his face, I could tell he must have figured there was something wrong. "Yeah, Saria, what is it? What's up?" I didn't answer, perhaps unable to form the words. "Are you feeling unwell?" Assef placed the back of his hand against my forehead, then my cheek. "You look... out of sorts, Liebchen, what is it? Tell me, please."

"Uh... it's... it's about Adia. About what happened the last time I was over at her house." Of course, Assef needed no further explanation. I had confided in him everything that went down between Adia and I the very day it happened. What reason was there for me to keep it from him? It wasn't as if he was going to pass any judgement upon me. On the contrary, when I told him, he had wrapped his arms around me, kissed my head, and complimented me for how well I'd handled everything.

Had I really though? Had I truly handled that as best I could? I'd thought so at the time, but now... now I was questioning myself. I gulped, nerves making my insides clam up, and voiced these thoughts. "I... I know... I know it's been a few days and nothing's happened... and maybe I'm just paranoid but..." I trailed off, unable to bring that sentence to its logical conclusion. The words remained on the tip of my tongue, fighting their way out. I just... I couldn't bring myself to do it. To make my nightmarish fantasy real.

Assef needed to hear no more, though. He knew what I was about to say - perhaps before the words had even become coherent thoughts. "But you're afraid that she might go back on her word?" he asked, looking me in the eye. "You're afraid that she might tell her parents about what she did and that you'll get into trouble for it?" Trouble, of course, was an understatement. If Mahmood and Tanya ever learned of how I'd treated Adia, well, I may well have looked forward to the worst belting of my young life. The look on my face must have been enough for Assef to figure he was right in his assumption, as he drew me close to him, and kissed my forehead.

"That won't happen, I promise," he reassured me. "If she was going to tell on you, then she would have done it by now."

I frowned. "How do you know that, Assef? She... she could have told Javid and Faraya the moment I went home. She could... she could be telling them right now!" My voice broke on that last word, terror gripping me. The mental image of Adia confessing every last bit of my deepest, cruelest secret was too much to bear. I envisioned her quivering, gathered into the comforting arms of her loving family. The looks of fury that would cross Javid's face, as he made his way to my house. The conversation that would ensue between him and Mahmood. The... the... Oh, I could not bear to think of it!

"Saria," Assef interrupted, taking my hands in his. "Hush, sister, there's no need for you to worry. Adia won't breathe a word to her parents, or to anyone, about what you did to her. Trust me, you're absolutely in the clear on this."

How can you be so sure? I thought, baffled by his confidence on the matter. How can you know? I don't... I don't... Again, Assef cut across me before I had the chance to speak. His voice was tender, gentle but firm. "You want to know how I know this?" he asked, and when I nodded, he continued on. "Because we both know she hasn't said anything yet. If she did, then our parents would have done... something... about it." Something, of course, meaning beating me black and blue. Assef's eyes glinted with fury at the mere thought, but when he spoke again, it was with a measured calm. "And now, well, her bruises have probably healed up. If she tells now, she will have no evidence with which to back up her claim."

He did have a point there. Although my anxiety didn't let me calm down just yet. "She doesn't need bruises for them to trust her, Assef," I whispered, "Faraya and Javid would believe her anything."

"Perhaps," Assef mused, "but tell me, would she not then have to explain why she lied to them? Do you really think they're going to risk their connections with our parents over what is, essentially, a tall tale that Adia made up? They need to remain friends with Mahmood and Tanya, too, don't you forget that. There is nothing for you to worry about. You handled yourself brilliantly, and I for one, am extremely proud of you."

My heart leapt at those words. Everything I did was to make my brother proud, I looked up to him more than anyone else. Every time he told me I'd done a good job - on anything, it mattered not what it was, I felt myself grow wings and take flight. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Assef, you always know just what to say." I hummed, furrowing a brow, another thought occurring. "I must say, while I regret acting on that impulse, I do not regret what I did, not one bit. Does that make sense?"

Assef nodded. He tapped my nose with a finger, grinning. "Of course, you did what was right, you know that." In both mine and my brother's eyes, an act of violence against an outside party was always justified, and more so when it came to standing up for the other. "And I'll thank you again for standing up for me the way that you did. I know you want to cultivate a friendship with Adia; it means a lot that you were willing to put that all on the back burner for me. Thank you, Liebchen."

"I would rip apart any creature that dares to insult you, Assef," I told him, with the deepest and most truthful of convictions. Those words were not enough to describe the lengths that I would go to for my brother. Should Adia dare to breathe another word in the vein that she'd done before, then there would be no forgiveness from me, no more. Assef smiled, drawing me in once more, kissing me tenderly and holding me close.

Feeling tired from the day's events, and from the conversation we'd just had, I leaned my head against my brother's shoulder and closed my eyes. T'would be for but a moment, that was what I told myself. Just a minute. All I wanted was to rest my eyes, to calm my weary bones, a few mere moments of daydreaming. That was all. Just a moment... just a minute... just a little break. Just... a...

"Saria, Liebchen, wake up..." Assef was shaking my arm, jostling me. What was he doing? Why was he telling me to wake up? I'd only been resting my eyes - there was no need for him to be pawing at me like that. I opened my eyes. The world was blurry, and Assef's face was hard for me to discern. With a groan escaping from my lips, I blinked, then blinked again. Assef now looked clearer. Good. I arched a brow, tilting my head curiously at him. He laughed, and ruffled my hair. "You fell asleep," he teased, chuckling.

Asleep?! I'd fallen asleep?! No, surely not, I thought, I couldn't have - I'd only meant to rest my eyes for a moment. Only meant to take a tiny rest. I wasn't some damn toddler than needed a nap. Here I am, wanting to spend an afternoon with my big brother and I waste it by falling asleep? What the fuck, what the actual fuck, Saria?! I felt guilty when I realized that I'd left Assef to sit there doing nothing but babysitting me while I napped. I inwardly chided myself for having done so.

Opening my mouth, I tried to gush out an apology to him. It was the least that he deserved, of course. "Oh, shit. Really? I... did not intend for that to happen. I'm sorry, Assef. I just wished to rest my eyes. I... I didn't mean to actually fall asleep. Fuck, do I feel an idiot right now. Forgive me, big brother. Didn't mean to leave you hanging like that." Part of me wondered if I ought to ask how long I'd been asleep, but I figured against it. Didn't wish to compound my guilt even further.

Assef laughed, waving off my apology. "It's alright. It's this weather, I think. Plus all of the stresses you've been going to. Don't worry about it, Liebchen. Besides, you only slept for about half-an-hour, that's all." Well, that answered my unspoken question. "You need to rest. To be honest, I was going to let you alone but..." He leaned in, grinning mischievously, "I spotted Kunis and Donkey and I figured... well, you wouldn't want to miss this."

Kunis and Donkey? Who...? Who's that? I tried to wrap my brain around it. Kunis - fag - was one of Assef's favorite insults and he used it quite often, and for a variety of people. But I was drawing a blank on who this could be. Assef liked to give derogatory nicknames to those enemies of his, but he'd accumulated so many of them over the years that it was a little hard to tell who was who. Wali? Kamal? No, no, he didn't call them either of those names. Farsef? No... he called him "The Deaf Freak" now. So who then? Of whom he could be speaking?

Internally, I tossed names back and forth, of all the people that my Assef had come into contact with recently. All of those who he'd made an enemy of and who could be on the receiving end of such maligning nicknames, but nothing was coming to mind. Finally, when I had exhausted all of my options, I decided it best to just go ahead and ask. "Who?" I asked, squinting into the distance. "Assef, really, you're not being very specific here. That could be literally anyone - please, brother, I need more to go on than that. Anyone I've met before?"

"Oh, uh, well, no actually. Which is probably why you don't know who I'm talking about. Sorry, Liebchen," Assef said. But I was no more interested in hearing an apology that didn't need to be given. I gesticulated for him to continue speaking. He pointed off into the distance. "Amir and Hassan, Saria." When I made no indication of knowing who either of those people were, Assef leaned down to whisper in my ear, "Jansher Qadiri's son and his little Hazara pet."

Amir Qadiri! Now that name was one that most certainly rang a bell! Or... for the sake of accuracy here, let me say that I recognized his father's name before his own. But then... everyone in Kabul knew of Jansher Qadiri. He was one of the most prominent - if not the most prominent - and well-known men here. A man of immense wealth and power - an imposing figure of at least six foot, or that was what I'd heard about him. He was the one responsible for helping many of the businesses here to get up on their feet.

As well as this, apparently he also built an orphanage somewhere in Kabul. That had happened back when I was little - only about six or seven, I can't remember exactly. What I do recall is Mahmod and Tanya talking about it, and trying their level best to be involved in some way or another. Whether they ever were or not, well, I don't remember that. Regardless, Jansher was an extremely well-respected man. Rumor even had it that he'd wrestled a bear in Baluchistan, though of course there was no way to corroborate such a claim.

But it was not Jansher Qadiri who had grabbed my brother's attention. No, it was his son. Amir Qadiri - a pathetic, sniveling weakling of a boy. He was in school with Assef, though a few grades behind. I'd never met him personally, but I'd heard stories from my brother, and according to Assef, he was "the definition of fairy personified". He was a bookish, studious boy who cared more about reading than he did sports. In fact, Assef often told me that whenever the boys played soccer or any such sport - Amir would try and fail to get involved - and when it became clear that he was utter shit, he'd retreat into a corner with one of his books.

Now, that may have been bad enough - and any one of those personality traits would have earned him a place on my Assef's Enemy List - but what made Amir a particular target was the way that he treated his servant. Amir and his father treated their servants like... well, I hate to call them "members of the family" but as glorified pets, in many ways. Gave them food and shelter, spoke to them with respect, engaged them in conversation. If you can believe that!

Amir's treatment of Hassan was a crime in and of itself. Assef told me that the two boys spent most of their time together, in the hours that Amir was not in school, of course. He played with Hassan, talked to him, laughed with him. They were often seen together wandering the streets of Wazir-Akbhar-Khan, enjoying themselves, the best of friends. Amir treated Hassan like someone who mattered - and the very idea of such made me want to vomit. What kind of person did that? What kind of person treated their servants as friends? I couldn't understand.

"They're here?" I asked, unable to keep the curious tone out of my voice. I craned my neck, trying to see for myself. Bit silly, really, though. I didn't know who I was looking for - never having seen them before. I tilted my head up at Assef, blinking. "Uh... where?"

"Coming right this way, Liebchen," he replied, grinning. He stood from the crate and offered his hand to me, gesturing towards the market. There, I could see the faint outline of two young boys, arms around one another (gross) headed in our direction. Assef's eyes trailed them, analyzing their every move. "Tell me, sister, what say you we go over there and say hello?"

My answering grin was huge, my eyes sparkling. Any chance to harass someone - and most definitely a Hazara-lover like Amir - was definitely fine by me. I lifted my hand slightly, and tapped my knuckles, a silent question. Assef nodded, placing a hand on the front pocket of his jeans. My joy grew times ten. "Well now, brother, would you be so kind as to introduce me to them?"

Assef nodded, and together the two of us made our way towards the boys. From our position, they had not seen us yet. Now that we were coming closer to them, I could make out their conversation - or at the very least, the tale end of it. One of the boys - Amir, I assume - was telling the other about a story that he read. The other was eagerly asking him to read the story at some point. Amir laughed. "When we get home later, I'll read it to you," he said. I almost retched. Assef, noticing the look on my face, came to my aid and ended this disgusting display.

He motioned for me to come with him, and side-stepped right in front of Amir and Hassan, preventing them from going any further. "Hello, there!" he exclaimed, hands on his hips. He looked them both up and down. "Well, fancy seeing you two here."

The boys looked at each other. They were both so, so different - Amir with his perfect, Pashtun features, and Hassan, with that Chinese-doll appearance. I wrinkled my nose, not wanting to look at the Hazara any more. Hassan musn't have wanted to see Assef or I - most likely the former - either, because he was looking every which way except at us. I turned my attention from him, and focused it solely on Amir.

He was short, though still a few inches taller than I. He was wearing a leather coat, green scarf and blue jeans. His eyes were hazel, and very expressive. The first thing that I noticed about those eyes was the terror that reflected like a mirror within them. Amir's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, focusing on my brother, his lower lip dropping into an open gasp. He murmured something under his breath, which I could not make out. Something along the lines of "oh no" or "oh dear", but do not quote me on that.

I was struck by the fluttering in my chest. My heart thudded, then thudded again. Tiny acrobats decided that now would be a good time to perform some death-defying stunts within my stomach. Goosebumps made the hair on my arms raise up. This was... not the reaction that I expected to have, certainly not to a person like Amir. Damn it, I was meant to hate him. I was not meant to be... developing a crush on him. Was I developing a crush on him? I looked back at Amir, and my heart skipped a beat. Yes. Yes, I was.

There now, at the tender age of just eleven, I developed my first crush. Congratulations to Amir Qadiri, for having the prestigious honor of being the first ever person that Saria Ahmed ever felt those romantic feelings towards. Amir, still gaping at my brother, took a hesitant step back, nearly tripping over his own feet. The terror he was clearly feeling made him all the more attractive to me. It made him seem easy to mold, to make him perfect. Fear can be a beautiful teaching tool, can it not?

Regardless, back to the events at hand. Assef grinned down at Amir and Hassan. "Aren't you going to say hello, boys?" he asked, lips curling. No answer. "Come now, what's with the miserable expressions, huh? I thought fairies were meant to be cheerful." At those words, Amir gulped, and looked to Hassan, but neither of them said a word. Assef placed a hand on my back, ushering me forward. "Not planning to talk, then? Never mind. My little sister asked me to introduce her to you." It was clear from the tone in his voice that he did not include Hassan within that statement. Assef gestured to me. "This is my Saria."

"I... I... Uhm... Okay..." Those were the first words that Amir Qadiri ever spoke to me. Not the most romantic first words, no, but I'd take them. He looked like he'd just been frozen into place. As though the ground beneath his feet had become cement, preventing him from moving any further. "Uhm... uh... hi... hi, Saria. I'm, uh, I'm Amir, uh..." He looked at Hassan, and for a moment I wondered if he'd introduce the creature to me, but he didn't. Hassan hadn't said a word, and quite frankly, I was hoping it would stay that way.

Amir was looking back and forth from Assef to me, as if trying to scrutinize our expressions. When he looked at me, his eyes lingered on mine, and I noticed him focusing on them. Was the uncanny resemblance that my brother and I had to each other unnerving him, I wondered. Did he see that same hidden darkness that lurked within Assef's eyes lurking within mine? And if so, what did he think of it? Did it frighten him? Did it... did he... was he intrigued by it? All of these were questions that I yearned to have the answers to.

I smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Amir jan. My brother tells me lots about you." At those words, his eyes flickered back to Assef. He squinted, tilting his head to the left, and then the right. He placed a finger on his lips and tapped it a few times. There was an unfamiliar expression on his face - nervousness? Apprehension? Surprise? I chuckled, waving a hand. "It's good things. Don't worry." Mostly. But he didn't need to know that my brother and I often laughed and made crude jokes at his expense. "I'm glad to finally put a face to the name."

Just when Amir was about to reply to me, and we were, no doubt, about to engage in an open and friendly conversation, we were interrupted. By who, you ask? Well, by the walking, talking, breathing embodiment of worthlessness. Hassan leaned over next to Amir and whispered, his voice trembling, "Uhm... Amir agha?" Amir didn't respond, still looking from Assef to me. Hassan tentatively tugged on Amir's sleeve - making me want to rip his fucking hand off. "Amir agha... shouldn't we get going? We don't want to miss the start of the film."

Was he... was he trying to prevent me from talking to Amir? Was he trying to tell Amir what to do? A servant, telling their master what to do? The utter fucking audacity was mind-boggling to me. I bristled, wondering if I should say something. Amir clearly wasn't about to do so. Was it down to me, then? Did it fall to me to chastise Hassan for his disrespect? I would, of course, and I would have had no qualms about it - but Assef got there before me.

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Hassan. "Hazara, tell me, shouldn't you be off buying food in the market or cleaning or something?" he asked, his lips curling upwards in a sneer. "I know Amir doesn't have any other friends except you but that doesn't mean you need to cling to him like some pathetic dog." He was dead right, of course, as he is on so many topics. Though something in his words made me feel rather empathetic towards Amir. He ought to have more friends than just Hassan. He ought not to consider Hassan a friend at all.

"Uh... it's... it's not like that... Assef..." Amir whispered, his voice barely audible. His cheeks flushed, embarrassment evident on his face. He was trying to appease my brother by making up excuses, but neither Assef nor myself were buying it. "It... it's not... I mean..." He gulped, trembling in fear. At this point, Hassan decided that it would be a good fucking idea speak up again, because he couldn't keep his damn mouth shut.

"Amir agha is taking me to see the new Western movie," he said, his voice trembling, but with a hidden confidence to his tone. Really? I thought, Amir is honestly taking this piece of shit to the movies? He's spending money on him? Wanting to sit in a dark movie theater with him, wanting to sit side by side with him and waste, what, two hours, two and a half hours, alone with him? Is this real? Am I honestly hearing things correctly? Tell me I'm mistaken! This can't be right!

Assef looked down at me, that same level of disbelief expressed on his face that was on mine. Of all the things that he expected Hassan to say, that was certainly not one of them. "Can you believe this crap, Liebchen?" he asked in German, rolling his eyes. "What a crock of shit!" He turned back to face Amir and Hassan, switching back to Farsi easily. "The new Western?" he asked. Amir nodded, perhaps too nervous to speak. Or perhaps expecting Hassan to answer for him. He had no fucking issue doing so, after all. When neither boy made to respond, Assef continued on. "Funny, I thought Bollywood romances would be more you little queers' style."

I giggled loudly, making no effort to hide my feelings at Assef's sarcastic quip. I know, I know, call me a rude little bitch, but I can't help what I find funny, can I? Amir looked down at his feet, embarrassment evident upon his face. He opened his mouth, perhaps wanting to offer a rebuttal to Assef's comment, but not having the courage to do so. I almost felt bad for the poor lad, but I knew that Assef was right. Alas, it wasn't poor Amir's fault that he had no friends other than Hassan. I decided that I would attempt to bridge the gap between us.

Despite having only spent a few moments with Amir, I knew that violence and threats were not the way to about achieving my desires. Oh, of course, I could have laid hands upon him, I could have literally whipped him into shape - and maybe at some stage I would have to, but not right now. Not at the beginning of what I hoped would be a long and prosperous relationship. No, it would be better if I treated him as I did Adia. Manipulation and charm would be the order of the day.

"Amir jan," I said, taking a step towards him. Amir's eyes widened and he retreated back. I did not like that. I did not want him showing me any fear. Hassan, on the other hand, did not display any apprehension. I liked that even less. Hassan's lips set into a thin line, and he balled his hand into a fist - glaring at me, glaring at Assef, as though daring either of us to lay a hand upon his "friend". What a loyal, protective dog. But I'd have to make my feelings known about this. Better to deal with this now rather than allow it to fester and cause problems later down the line.

Amir looked at me. I wanted to reach out and place a hand on his arm, to offer him my friendship and comfort in a more physical way, but I figured that this would not be the thing to do. At least. not yet. Instead, I merely offered him a compassionate gaze. It was of the utmost importance that I got this conversation right. I had no desire to mess up with the boy, after all. "Do you and Hassan go see movies often together?" I asked.

It was a basic question, one that, on the surface, meant little. Just an attempt to make conversation. To the casual onlooker, I might well have asked, "do you and Hassan like eating food together?" or "do you and Hassan breathe the same air?" Just a question - that was all. But it was far, far more than that. It was me gently chastising Amir for wanting to play with Hassan. For wanting to be his friend. I just... couldn't come right out and say it. Assef may have been blunt in his views - and while I agreed wholeheartedly with my brother, I knew that now was the time for me to play "good cop" to his "bad cop".

"Uhm... uhm..." Amir formulated his way through an answer. "Uh, yeah, I mean... not all the time... but... yeah, sometimes, uhm..." In any other circumstance, I would have found his incessant pausing and hesitation forms to be rather annoying, and would have told him in no uncertain terms to answer me properly, but, of course, this was not the time for that. There was no point in being cruel when it would do me one better to be kind. You catch more flies with honey as the saying goes. "I mean... it's just... there's this new Western out and Hassan asked if we could go and well, I want to see it too so..."

He trailed off, leaving that final word hanging in the open air. His response left it wide open for me to come in there with another question, this one requiring much more of my charm than the last. I knew that the very inflection of my voice had to be just perfect lest I mess it all up and ruin any hope there was with Amir. I put on the most innocent and caring of voices. "I see. Well, I... I can understand that. I guess. But... don't you have anyone else that could go with you?"

There. I'd said it. I'd made the implications. That Amir was a poor, friendless nobody. The moment the words came out of my mouth, I wondered if they were the right ones. Maybe I ought to have phrased that a little differently. Was it too offensive? Would I have been better off using different words? Would Amir be upset at what I had just implied? Each nanosecond that passed without response was one that made me want to cry out in frustration. Answer me, I wanted to yell. For crying out loud, fucking answer me!

"Not..." Amir eventually found his words, "I do... I mean... my other friends aren't available..." And that, dear reader, is what we call a lie. It was plain to see that he had no other friends, or, if he did, they did not care enough for him to take him up on the offer to go see a movie together. Were his other companions so fair-weather and fickle that he needed to hang out with a creature like Hassan just to not feel lonely? How pitiful. How tragic. The dear, misfortunate boy. His woes could melt even my cold heart.

This is it, Saria, I told myself, this is where the game turns. This is the start of what may be either a beautiful future relationship or an utter disaster on both your parts. Do not let your charms waver - this misguided soul needs you. He needs you to guide him into the light, to teach him the proper ways. Be kind and open to this poor, lonely boy. He needs guidance and support, and who better than you to show him the way? It's time to play the game, Saria. And it's time to win.

Assef cleared his throat. I glanced back at him. His hand rested on the pocket of his jeans, on his brass knuckles. "What are you doing, sister?" he asked, of course, in German. Inclining my head toward Amir, I motioned that I wanted our conversation to continue unabated without any form of violence. Assef nodded. He didn't look too happy about it - but I knew that he would let me do as I pleased, even if he didn't quite understand my motivations just yet.

Back to Amir now. I gave him my most sympathetic gaze. "I'm sorry," I whispered, "I didn't mean to upset you, I... I hope I'm not bothering you, truly. But I must say, and please do forgive me if I speak out of turn, but it must be hard to not have other people to talk to. Don't you ever feel lonely? Don't you ever want to play with other children your age? Aside from just... Hassan... I mean." Hassan must not be counted as one of Amir's friends - this much I knew. I just had to make Amir realize that as well.

He frowned. My words were having an impact on him, of that I was certain. But to what end? Was he agreeing with me? Did he, too, think of Hassan as nothing more than a glorified toy with which he could assuage his loneliness? Or were his feelings for the Hazara boy something more than that? Oh, how I froze cold at the very idea. Did Amir consider Hassan... his friend? Did he care for him? Could he care for him? Was that even possible? A Pashtun and a Hazara, being friends, it went against the fabrics of our great society. I hoped and prayed that it would not be true.

"It's fine. It doesn't matter," Amir responded in a downtrodden tone, his voice laden with bitter melancholy. He looked over at Hassan, who had not taken his eyes off of my brother for even a moment. As if worried that Assef might try to do something - because apparently my brother could not be trusted enough to let me have a peaceful conversation without becoming violent. That better fucking not have been what Hassan was thinking - if indeed there were thoughts in that weird-shaped head of his.

Amir must have thought I didn't believe him, or maybe he didn't want my pity, because he quickly added, "Really, Hassan asked me to go with him. I would have gone alone if not for that." Oh, what a lie. What lies that came from his mouth. I knew that this was but a pathetic falsehood, an attempt to prevent me from feeling bad for him about his lack of friends. About his relationship to Hassan. But then... of course, he'd made no effort to stop this conversation. And as Hassan had said earlier, they would be late for the start of their Western.

I saw right through Amir, just like he'd gone transparent. I took another step closer to him. "You know, you don't have to pretend or to put on a brave face around me. I won't judge you, Amir jan. I know we've only just met each other but I can tell that you're the type of person I'd get along well with." At this, Assef snorted from behind me, but I ignored him. There would be time enough to detail my plan to him later. "I know what it's like to not have many friends..." Ah, the same line I used on Adia. Would he take it to heart too? "I mean, I've never had to resort to playing with my servants but..." I shrugged. "Anyway. It doesn't matter. The point I'm trying to make, Amir jan, is that... if you want to... then you have a new friend now." With one hand, I gestured to myself, tapping my chest, puffing a brilliant smile, teeth gleaming.

"Oh." That was the only word that came from Amir's mouth. He lifted up a hand, running it through his hair. Almost as if he'd been struck dumb by my offer. By the generosity on display here. He blinked twice, and made to speak again, but didn't. I waited for him to respond. A simple "thank you, Saria" would have done - would have been efficient, for now. But alas, I received nothing. Not even a smile.

This was beginning to piss me off. I wanted to be Amir's friend, I was offering him the chance to not waste his life away with Hassan. To have friends of his own social standing. Yet the way he was reacting, it was like he was trying to refuse my kindness while also trying not to offend me. Or, perhaps more accurately, not to offend my brother. Either way, he was certainly not as happy with my announcement as I would have liked him to be.

Ungrateful little snot. I offer my friendship - what God himself would beg for - and this is how he repays me?! This is how he treats me? No thank you, no words of happiness, not even a smile! I do not expect him to fall on his knees and grovel in thanks but can I not have but a moment of acknowledgement? Can I not have something? Anything? I should wipe that nervous look off of his face. Maybe I ought to consider telling Assef to use his brass knuckles after all. Maybe a good pummelling will help him see the light. No, no, I can't do that. I like him. Guess I'll have to find some other way to teach obedience, won't I? And get back into the real world, Saria, Amir is staring at you.

"So..." I began, easily masking my irritation and internal fury. There would be time enough for Amir to learn what a wonderful gift I offered him. "You don't have to answer right away, of course, but now... now you have someone else to be your friend. You don't need to worry about other people, you know... thinking that..." I paused, glancing towards Hassan, "that Hassan is your friend. I mean, you know how they might whisper. A servant and his master. But... there's no need to worry. All will be well, trust me."

Amir looked frustrated. As though there were a million different things that he wanted to say, but he wasn't sure that he ought to. He moved back, away from me. "Right," he said, "alright then. I guess..." He paused, and took another step back. "Well... I should... we should get going now." He motioned to Hassan, never taking his eyes off of me. "Come on, Hassan. Let's just go home now. We've probably missed the beginning of the movie anyway. We can just go some other time. I'm not feeling up to it right now."

Hassan, finally, tore his gaze away from my brother. He moved closer to Amir, looking at him with a confused expression, "but... Amir agha... I thought you wanted to go watch a movie. What's wrong? Is everything okay? Is there anything that I can do for you, Amir agha?" He placed a hand on Amir's shoulder, "please, just tell me."

The Hazara barely got a word in before Amir reacted, in a way that I had not been expecting at all. He violently slapped Hassan's hand away from him, glaring at the boy. "Damn it, Hassan, did you not hear me? I said I want to go home! Now come on, let's just GO!"

Silence. Nobody moved. Nobody said a word. You could have heard a cricket chirping. You could have heard even the tiniest of sounds. Amir's harsh words reverberated through the air. His eyes widened, did he even consider that such a statement could come from his own mouth? Did he even think that he had it within him to act that way? It was a far cry from the timid and nervous boy that Assef described to me.

My brother laughed loudly from behind us. "Faggot's got a mean streak," he commented in German. "Didn't know he had it in him." I turned, and he looked at me, with a grin on his face. I grinned back - delighted, both because seeing Amir be nasty to Hassan was one of the funniest things that I'd yet seen, and because, within the depths of my heart, I was considering that Amir's attitude towards Hassan had been changed because of me. Was I sowing the seeds for trouble between them? How I hoped that would be the case.

Amir didn't seem to know where the change in his demeanour had come from. It was like a demon had taken over his body - the timid and nervous boy that now stood before us had not the daring nor the cruelty within him to be so hurtful. Judging by the flicker of remorse on his face, and the way that he was now desperately searching for Hassan's reaction, he didn't want to be heartless either.

I focused away from Amir, and looked at Hassan. Wanting to know what the Hazara thought, what he felt about his master's words. If Amir's words had stung, he was doing a fine job of not showing it. He remained quiet, pensive, as though taking it in, measuring the words for some level of truth behind them. Was this a regular occurrence? Was their friendship not as deep and wondrous as I'd first believed? It was almost like he didn't believe what he'd just heard. Or maybe he was just so loyal he couldn't bring himself to consider the possibility his precious master didn't like him as much as he wanted.

All the same, there was no way that Hassan could question Amir right now. And he knew that. His shoulders slumped in utter dejection. He looked at the ground. "Very well, Amir agha. I'm sorry. We can go home if you'd like." He paused, looking at Amir with a compassionate gaze. "Maybe... maybe we can read together or..." Hassan trailed off. He was trying to appease his friend, but it looked like he was unclear on how to do that. Either way, he was trying to get Amir away from my brother and I.

Assef beckoned me over to him. I returned to his side and he wrapped an arm around me, drawing me in. "Well, I can see we've caused a domestic," he teased, "so we'll leave you boys to deal with that. I'm sure you'll kiss and make up in no time." I snickered at that, and Assef placed a hand on my back. "Come along, sister, let's go home."

"Yes, brother," I replied, looking up at him. I faced Amir, who I hoped would soon become a more permanent fixture in my life. "It truly was nice to meet you, Amir jan. I do hope you take my words to heart. Goodbye now." Amir didn't respond, but I'd let that go. I walked alongside my brother as we made our way back home. Assef was talking about something, but for this time, I wasn't really listening. My mind was still focused on what I'd just witnessed between Amir and Hassan.

Amir was beginning to worm his way into my heart, slowly creeping into the fathoms of the darkness within. With any luck, and with a little perseverance from me, I would soon change him and make him mine.


Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Coming up next, Saria attempts to tell Assef about her plans for Amir, but her brother's attitude towards her feelings causes tensions to rise to boiling point between the Ahmed siblings. Look for that coming up as soon as possible...

Thank you all again!