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TODAY IS JUST LIKE THE OTHER DAY. “Your wings are so big, Viv. I wish mine were like yours,” Van’s small voice broke the tranquil sound of waves.
Viv turned to see their younger brother pouting, his tiny, underdeveloped wings flapping helplessly in frustration. They gave him a tight-lipped look, suppressing whatever emotion stirred inside, before turning their gaze back to the ocean.
Today, they were watching the turtles. Big, majestic creatures gliding effortlessly through the water. Strange, Viv mused, how turtles on land are so slow, yet in the water, they are fast as the wind. A fleeting thought crossed Viv's mind—a wish, a longing. Would the turtles let them ride on their backs, taking them far, far away from home?
Viv’s daydream was abruptly shattered.
“Ow!” Viv hissed, instinctively clutching their wing. A sharp pain radiated where feathers had been torn from their flesh. They spun around to see Van standing there, eyes wide with defiance, clutching a handful of Viv’s white feathers.
“What are you doing?!” Viv shrieked, their voice trembling with a mix of shock and pain. Their wing twitched involuntarily, and they pressed a hand to its base, trying to soothe the ache.
“You weren’t paying attention to me!” Van shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “Mama and Papa said you’re supposed to watch over me! But you’re not!”
With that, Van threw the bloodied feathers at Viv. They fluttered to the ground between them, a painful reminder of what had just happened. Viv took a step back, their expression souring.
It was always like this, wasn’t it?
Viv was forced to care for their brother—Van, who couldn’t even fly properly. Couldn’t they see how unfair it was? Why did it have to be Viv? Why not Val, their older brother, who was perfectly capable of taking on the responsibility? Was this some kind of punishment?
Viv huffed, crossing their arms in frustration. But the moment they saw Van’s lip quiver and tears pool in his eyes, their resolve faltered.
“Do you hate me too?” Van sniffled, his voice small. “Is it because I can’t fly?”
“No, no, it’s not like that,” Viv said quickly, their tone softening. They knelt down and placed a gentle hand on Van’s head, ruffling his hair the way Mama used to. “I’m sorry, Vani. I didn’t mean to yell. But you shouldn’t pull my feathers like that—it really hurts, okay?”
Van sniffed again, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. “I’m sorry, Viv. But you weren’t even looking at me…”
Viv sighed, guilt settling like a weight on their chest. “I know, I know. I just… I get lost in my head sometimes.” They hesitated before adding, “How about we go watch the horses run in the forest? Would you like that?”
Van perked up almost immediately. His wings flapped excitedly, though they still couldn’t lift him off the ground. “Yes! Yes, please!”
Viv smiled faintly, brushing away the lingering ache in their wing. “Alright. But don’t tell Mama and Papa, okay? I found a beautiful cloud—it’s very high up, but you can see everything from there.”
“Really?! Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go, let’s go!” Van grabbed Viv’s hand, tugging them eagerly toward the edge of the cloud.
“Okay, okay! But be careful,” Viv whispered, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. “If someone sees us, they’ll call Mama.”
The two siblings made their way to the hidden cloud. It was higher than the others, a pristine patch of white that seemed to float just beneath the stars. Viv had to carry Van the entire way, their larger wings straining under the added weight.
“Haha! I’m flying now!” Van cheered, his laughter echoing through the sky. “One day, I’ll be able to do this too!”
“Yes, you will,” Viv said with a soft smile as they carefully set Van down. “And I’ll be there to see it.”
Van curled up beside Viv on the cloud, letting out a contented sigh. Below them, other nangfas flew gracefully through the skies, their voices carrying faintly on the wind.
“This is amazing, Viv! Why didn’t you tell me about this place before?” Van asked, his tone playful.
Viv chuckled, tucking their wings around themself. “Well, I only just found it recently. This cloud must’ve just formed. Don’t blame me, Vani.”
“Hmph…” Van pouted, but the expression melted away when he saw something below. “Look! Look, Vivi! Horses! Running across the field!”
Viv leaned forward, following his gaze. The herd moved like a river of silk across the golden plains. “I see them,” Viv said, laughing as Van pointed excitedly.
Their quiet moment was shattered by a sharp, familiar voice.
“You two!”
Both siblings froze.
“VIV! VAN!” Their mother’s furious yell echoed from a nearby cloud. She stood there, her wings bristling with rage, her face flushed crimson. “Come down this instant!”
Viv and Van exchanged a panicked look before Viv scooped Van into their arms and descended quickly.
“Mama…” Viv started, their voice trembling, but their mother silenced them with a raised finger.
“No excuses,” she snapped. “You brought your brother up there? This is unforgivable!”
“Mama! I’m sorry!” Viv blurted out, their wings trembling. “But Van wanted to see the view!”
Van nodded weakly, stepping forward to clutch their mother’s blouse. “Mama, I wanted to go with Vivi. It wasn’t their fault—”
“Hush!” their mother cut him off, her voice sharp. She turned her searing gaze back to Viv. “What have I told you? You are tasked with watching over your brother. His wings cannot carry him yet! You cannot take him to ledges or any high places where he could fall!”
“I was watching him, Mama!” Viv protested, tears welling in their eyes. “I would never let Vani fall!”
“And what if he did? What will you do? Try to catch him? You can’t even fly that well. You’ve been skipping your flight lessons to what? Stare at the horses? The turtles?”
Viv flinched again, their shoulders trembling as their mother’s sharp words pierced through the air. Their eyes glistened with unshed tears, and a shaky breath escaped their lips. It wasn’t fair. They could fly—they knew how to fly! It wasn’t their fault they wanted to watch the turtles amble along the riverbank or the horses gallop in the fields. Was it so wrong to want a moment for themselves?
Their gaze flicked to Van, who had shrunk behind their mother, his small face peeking out with wide, tear-filled eyes. Viv’s heart twisted, guilt clawing at their chest, but anger burned hotter. They knew they shouldn’t be mad. They knew it wasn’t right to feel this way. But why were they being blamed for loving simple things? For needing space? Why did they have to shoulder the responsibility of looking after their brother, who was only four years younger? Viv was just a child too! Couldn’t they have fun? Couldn’t they be free for once?
Meanwhile, their older brother got to fly off with his friends, laughing and soaring through the skies without a care.
“That’s not fair,” Viv whispered, their voice barely audible, but the words spilled out before they could stop themselves.
Their mother, who had begun to calm down, whirled on them, her eyes flashing with fury. “What did you say?”
“I said it’s not fair!” Viv shouted, their voice cracking with raw emotion. The sudden force of their words startled even them, but the dam had already burst. Tears were streaming down their face now, and they jabbed a trembling finger at Van, who flinched visibly. “Why are you forcing me to take care of him?! I want to live my own life! I want my own time, my own space, and I want him to stop bothering me!”
“What? That’s not true, right, Vivi? Vivi...” Van sniffled, rubbing at his red, tear-streaked face with his arm. His watery gaze flickered between hurt and anger, his small wings twitching at his back.
“How dare you talk to your brother like that, Viv?” their mother snapped, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief. “Van is your brother. It is your responsibility to care for him.”
Viv’s mother looked furious, her expression twisted with both pain and disappointment. But Viv didn’t care—not anymore. They had been holding this in for far too long.
Ever since Van was born, it had been Viv who cared for him. While their older brother had flown free, Viv had been tethered to the ground, always watching over Van. There had been no time for friends, no time for themselves. Just Van—always Van.
And sometimes... sometimes Van hurt them. When Viv said no, when they tried to set a boundary, Van would lash out. Small fists, biting words. Viv tried not to mind. They told themselves they didn’t. They loved Van. Of course they did. But love didn’t erase the sting, didn’t make the pain go away.
They had been patient. More than patient. But patience had its limits.
“This is your fault, Van!” Viv shouted, their voice breaking as more tears poured down their face. “Your wings are small and weak! You’ll never be able to fly!”
Van gasped, his wings trembling as his face crumpled, and fresh tears spilled down his cheeks. “That’s not true!” he sobbed, his voice high and desperate, clinging to the fragile hope that it wasn’t.
The crowd of nangfas that had gathered around murmured among themselves, their eyes fixed on the unfolding scene. Viv could feel their stares—sharp, judgmental, suffocating.
Viv’s face burned with shame. Their chest heaved, and their head pounded, every heartbeat a hammer blow. It was all too much. The weight of their mother’s words. The guilt of Van’s tears. The humiliation of being watched by so many.
“Stop staring at me!” Viv thought, the words echoing in their mind like a scream. “Stop it. Stop it. Stop staring at me! ”
Their vision blurred as more tears spilled over, hot and unrelenting. All they wanted was to disappear. To fly far away, somewhere no one could find them. Somewhere they could finally breathe.
“That’s not true! I can still fly, right, Mama?” Van’s voice cracked as he looked up at his mother, his wide, tear-glazed eyes pleading for reassurance. But instead of comfort, her face drained of color, her lips pursed, trembling. Fury and fear flickered across her pale features like thunderclouds.
“Mama? Is it true? Is it?” Van’s voice wavered, desperate. He reached for her hand, but she didn’t take it. Instead, she knelt down slowly, her trembling fingers brushing through his soft hair.
“No, no, Viv is lying,” she murmured, her voice shaking as much as her hands. “You’re still very young to have big wings, okay? You’ll be able to fly someday—”
“Stop lying, Mama!” Viv’s voice cut through sharply, trembling with anger. “Van will never get to fly!”
Van flinched, his small face scrunching in fury. His cheeks flushed a deep red as he turned on his sibling. “That isn’t true! I will fly, stop lying, Vivi!” His voice cracked again, this time with rage. He lunged at Viv, fists swinging wildly.
Viv sidestepped but not without effort—Van’s punches, though untrained and clumsy, were fueled by raw emotion. Viv stumbled back, pushing Van away, but Van kept coming, his cries now turning into frustrated sobs.
“Stop it! It’s true! Your wings are useless—you can’t fly!” Viv screamed through their own tears, their face twisting in anguish.
“Not true! Not true!” Van wailed, his little fists pounding against Viv’s arms and chest.
“Enough, you two!” Their mother’s voice boomed, sharp and panicked, cutting through the chaos. She rushed forward, trying to pry them apart, her hands fumbling in her desperation. But neither child listened, their anger and hurt blinding them to the danger. They shoved, pushed, and stumbled closer to the edge of the cloud.
“Enough! Break it up, Viv! Van!” Their mother’s voice cracked, raw with fear.
And then—
“Goodness, Linda! They’re about to fall!” A neighbor’s voice rang out, startling everyone.
In that split second, Viv’s hands shot out, shoving Van one last time. Van staggered backward, his arms flailing, his small wings fluttering uselessly. He teetered on the edge for a heartbeat before gravity claimed him.
“No!” their mother screamed, her voice shattering into a thousand pieces as Van slipped off the cloud.
Time froze. Viv’s chest heaved as they opened their eyes, their arms still raised from the push. They blinked, disoriented, their breath catching painfully in their throat.
“M-Mama… Mama?” Viv stammered, stepping back. Their arms felt bruised from Van’s punches, their scalp stinging where Van had pulled at their hair. Their chest hurt, but not from the blows—it was guilt, sharp and suffocating.
Then, they turned to the edge and froze.
Far below, a faint blur of white wings lay crumpled on the distant ground.
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
They didn’t do that. They couldn’t have done that. Van slipped, didn’t he? He slipped!
“Linda, Linda! Your son—your son!”
“Viv pushed him! Oh goodness!”
Voices erupted around them, loud and accusatory. They pierced through Viv’s skull, ringing until they couldn’t hear anything else. Their ears burned, their face felt both hot and cold, and everything around them blurred.
They didn’t do it! They didn’t! They were just protecting themselves!
“Mama, Mama, I’m sorry!” Viv’s voice cracked as they stumbled forward, their knees buckling. “I’ll get Van! He’s still there—he’s waiting down there!” Their words poured out in frantic, breathless gasps.
Before anyone could stop them, Viv spread their wings wide and leapt off the cloud, plunging toward the ground below.
“Viv! No!” Their mother’s scream echoed behind them, but Viv didn’t look back.
Van was down there. He must have glided down! His wings worked! They just needed to bring him back up. He wasn’t gone. He couldn’t be gone.
“Vani! Vani!” Viv cried as they landed clumsily on the ground. Their feet wobbled, unused to the firmness of the earth. The land felt foreign, harsh, and cold underfoot. But none of it mattered. Van was just ahead—he was lying there. He must be dizzy. Yes, that was it.
“Vani, Vani,” Viv panted, dropping to their knees beside him. Van lay still on his side, his small wings limp and splayed awkwardly. “Van, come on. I can carry you home.”
Their hands shook as they reached out, shaking Van’s shoulder gently. His body was heavy—far too heavy. His skin was cool to the touch. “Van… Vani, don’t sleep,” Viv whispered, their voice breaking.
He was pretending. He had to be pretending. He always did this when he wanted attention. He liked it when Viv fussed over him.
“Vani, I’m paying attention now! Stop pretending,” Viv pleaded, their voice rising in pitch. But Van didn’t stir. His head lolled to the side, his face peaceful, too peaceful.
“Why are you so heavy, Vani?” Viv whimpered, their arms straining as they tried to lift him. “You’re so heavy… you’ve never been this heavy…”
Viv’s knees buckled, and they nearly dropped him. Tears streamed down their face as they clutched him tighter. Their wings flapped weakly, desperate to take off, but they couldn’t. Their legs gave out, and they crumpled to the ground with Van’s body still in their arms.
“Vani… wake up. Let’s go home, okay?” Viv whispered, their voice barely audible. They stared down at his face, searching for any sign of movement, any flicker of life.
But he didn’t move. He didn’t blink.
Viv’s sobs broke through the silence of the ground. They rocked back and forth, clutching Van’s lifeless body, their mind spiraling into denial.
He was pretending. He had to be pretending.
Suddenly, a thin stream of red liquid dribbled from Van’s nose. Viv froze. What was that? What was that red liquid? Panic prickled through their chest as they swiped it away with trembling fingers. But the crimson trail didn’t stop—it kept coming, flowing like rain.
“Vani?” Viv whispered, voice tight with fear. They pressed their blouse to Van’s face, trying to staunch the flow. It didn’t help. The red seeped through the thin fabric, staining it dark.
“Vani, talk to me!” Viv cried, their voice cracking as they gripped his shoulders. They shook him harder, desperate for a response, but Van’s body remained limp, his head lolling to the side.
Then it got worse. The red began to drip from his ears, a slow, relentless trickle, then from his slightly parted lips. Viv’s heart hammered in their chest, a wild, chaotic rhythm.
“No... no, no, no! Vani!” they sobbed, their breaths shallow and frantic. And then, red began to pool in the corners of his eyes, sliding down like tears.
Viv shook him again, harder this time, their voice rising to an angry yell. “Wake up! Please, wake up! What’s happening to you?”
Their wings twitched instinctively, aching to move, but Viv didn’t care. Not yet. They couldn’t leave him like this. “I’ll go get help—I’ll bring you to the horses! You love the horses, right? If you see them, you’ll wake up, Vani,” Viv whispered, their voice breaking into an angry, desperate hiss.
With a sharp inhale, they spread their wings, ignoring the sharp ache in their knees and the burning muscles in their back. They launched themselves into the air, leaves and branches whipping at their legs as they sped through the woods like a streak of shadow.
The snorts and neighs of horses reached their ears before they saw them, hooves stamping impatiently against the forest floor. Viv landed by a jagged stone, their knees buckling slightly, and staggered forward. “Please,” they whispered, almost to themselves, “please let this work.”
They lowered Van by the stone, careful not to jostle him, waiting—hoping—for his eyes to flutter open. Red liquid still dripped from his nose. Viv did their best to wipe it away, swiping at his cheeks and hair with trembling hands. Van would be angry if he saw himself looking so messy, so undignified. He always cared about appearances. He will be angry, Viv thought, if he wakes up.
“Van, Van,” Viv whispered, curling next to Van’s small, still body. They stared at the nearby horse, oblivious to the tragedy, its head bowed and teeth busily tearing at grass. Viv nudged Van’s shoulder, gentle at first, then harder. “Vani, horses, look, look, open your eyes, Vani. You’ll miss them.”
But Van didn’t open his eyes.
It was already growing dark. The sky bled purple and orange, and shadows stretched longer across the field. Viv’s sobs had grown quieter, spent and hoarse, but they didn’t leave Van’s side. The horses, finished with their grazing, trotted away into the dusk, leaving Viv and Van in the creeping cold. Viv shook Van again, more desperate this time. “Vani? Vani? Are you still there?” they whimpered, their voice breaking as they pressed their forehead to his. Van only slept on, silent and unmoving.
“Van? Do you hear me?” Viv asked the darkness. No answer. Only the hush of wind through grass, and the distant whinny of a horse.
Night settled in, heavy and cold. Viv shivered, pulling Van close, wrapping their arms and wings around him in a feathery cocoon. They tried to warm him, tried to share their heat, but Van’s skin stayed cold beneath their touch. Still, Viv refused to give up, rocking him gently, begging for any sign of life. But Van never stirred.
When dawn finally broke, pale and gray, Viv’s tears had dried on their cheeks. They rose, cradling Van in their arms. His body felt heavier in the daylight, limp and unyielding. Viv walked, and walked, stumbling through the wet grass, until they found the horses again, grazing in a sunlit clearing. The rain from last night had left the earth soft and slick, and Viv’s bare feet squelched with every step.
“Van… Vani, I think you’re already gone, Vani…” Viv choked out, tears streaming down anew as they laid Van gently on the damp soil. The rain hadn’t mattered; Viv had covered Van with their wings through the night, keeping him dry, even as their feathers grew soaked and heavy.
“Vani, are you forever sleeping now? Did I do this? Is this my fault?” Viv asked, their voice barely a whisper. They began to dig, fingers clawing at the mud, the wet earth sticking to their skin. It was easier than they expected—the ground yielding beneath their grief. Soon, there was a small hole, just large enough for Van. Viv laid him inside, arranging his limbs carefully, tucking his hands over his chest.
Is this what humans called burial? Viv remembered the elders’ stories—how burial was for those who would not wake. Was Van one of them now?
Even as the sun climbed higher, Van’s skin stayed cold. Viv’s own clothes had dried in the morning light, but their hands and knees were caked with mud, and their wings, once pristine white, were smeared with brown and green.
Viv wept as they pushed the soil back over the body, handful by trembling handful, until Van was hidden from sight. The elders always said that with a proper burial, the soul might awaken again, in another world. Viv clung to that hope. Right? Right?
Viv sat by the fresh mound, hands dirty, knees stained, wings rumpled and soiled, staring at the earth where Van now slept. The clearing was quiet, save for the distant sound of horses and the soft sigh of the wind. Viv’s sobs faded into the hush, mingling with the earth.