The Malay words echoed in the room despite the population.

Ali gaped and a whisper rattled the sewn silence of the uniformed communists, all staring as the military officer pointed straight at the boy in the chair. I can't lose him again, Ali chanted. Not again. No.

Ivan's eyes widened.

Without command, the men behind the officer marched past and grasped Ivan's arms, even as he lay still with shock. Ali looked around, eyes widening himself, hands twitching where they hung in fists.

He found Amadi, but his brother shook his head slowly as they held eye contact. Don't do anything stupid, Amadi mouthed.

Ali tightened his fists and turned back to the officers. Not again.

Ivan willingly stood and limped with the men.

Ali jumped in front and stopped the main officer before he could leave. Amadi pushed off the wall, keeping his knees bent, glaring at Ali.

"Sir," Ali said nonchalantly, "what's the reasoning behind this?"

The man coughed.

"This man is being arrested for an act terrorism on the Malay State of Perak," the man answered. "He was reported by an anonymous caller, who claimed he had run to the Communists for support."

"But the caller clearly stated that the Communists had nothing to do with the event that happened today," he continued. Ali's jaw dropped.

"And with the donation made, we can safely say that this man set fire to the tin mine in an act of terrorism."

Ivan bowed his head as the men continued to move towards the door.

"He's being framed," Ali said. Amadi glowered in warning. "I -"

"I think that's enough. Thank you for your time." Amadi interrupted. He grabbed Ali's elbow and dragged him into a corner. Ali's eyes never left Ivan.

"What was that?" Amadi gnashed his teeth, grinding as he frowned down at Ali.

"What was that?" Ali turned towards him. "You're asking me that? What were you doing while I was trying to get him back, cowering in the corner?" Ali tore his arm from Amadi's grip and faced the crowd, away from his brother. Not again. I can't lose him...

"I'm protecting you," Amadi said.

"I don't need protection from my younger brother!" Ali spat. "Who was it on the frontlines for years? It sure as hell wasn't you, Amadi."

"It's best for the party. If we were to intervene -"

"He was housed here! We're already involved!" Ali confronted his younger brother, waving his arms for emphasis.

"Maybe, but the caller said -"

"Oh, the caller. I swear, I'm going to hunt that man down -"

"Ali, it's better this way."

"No, no it isn't. He was my best hope in the war, I'm not letting him be involved in some - some travesty of justice! You heard what he said, someone here is bribing the government. Doesn't that concern you?"

"It's not my problem."

"That's not your problem? You have some serious priority issues -"

"Ali, seriously -"

"- If you can't understand that this party could be prosecuted, simply for bribing the government. Is this party not your problem?"

"Ali, Ivan is not my problem." He bared his teeth.

"I guess I'm not either then."

"Ali, don't you dare walk away from me!" His voice raised and hushed the group.

Ali cursed and stepped away, the mass parting as he stormed towards the door.

"Good luck," he shouted and ripped the red star from his sleeve.

He had already slammed the door before their reactions kicked in.

***

Ali sauntered in the streets, silently observing the buildings. He even caught sight of the armed military vehicles, but they sped far faster than he could.

What would happen if Ivan was found guilty?

He thought to himself. Hanged. He would be hanged. A violent shudder erupted in his body and he leaned into a wall of the alleyway, tilting his head into the sky. He breathed in deeply, letting the humid air warm him from the inside. I can't lose him again, Ali thought.

He slunk to the ground and found himself staring at a poster, the same as before the attack. An eleven-point star next to a crescent on a navy rectangle, then red and white stripes falling in equal parts. An entry for the national flag, he realized. Maybe the red was for the Communists. The white could be for the British.

Or, red could mean bloodshed. White for angels.

Red - blood, Communists, war, dusk, dawn. Fire.

White - life, afterlife, British, angels, eyes. Ash.

He drew his hands to his face and bent his knees into his chest to lean on. His head pounded with an ache, a physical result of his thoughts.

Suddenly, his hands pulled away, fisting at his chest. He stretched out one leg and took another breath. It could either make it worse or a lot - a whole lot better.

He sprinted back the way he came, slamming open the basement door.

"Amadi!" He called.

Ali sprinted through the people, finally finding Amadi's figure amongst the group.

The man he was talking to turned to Ali. "Is this the boy you were talking about? He's the one who's been causing all this trouble?"

Ali froze, his breath hitched.

Amadi nodded, avoiding eye contact. Ali furrowed his brows.

"Men," the man said, and finally Ali recognized him as the man from the river, Amadi's boss.

Still lost in his thoughts, he didn't have time to react as four men grabbed his arms and held them against his sides. Ali blinked at Amadi.

"Good idea making the call, son. You made the right decision." The man said and flicked his wrist. He patted Amadi on the back, turning towards the door to follow Ali and his men. In an instant, Ali was being hauled out of the door, too fazed to thrash and break away.

The men chucked him into an unnamed alleyway, and he stumbled, falling and rolling towards a brick wall.

Ali grabbed his throbbing head and pulled it near his chest.

The footsteps thudded away, but he lay still, letting his hands fall to the ground.

Then, with a rush of anger, he slammed his fist into the concrete, apathetic to the pain.

Footsteps prowled behind him. Ali didn't turn.

But the way they walked reminded him of someone. And the way they touched his shoulder.

He turned his head, hopeful, only to find Amadi standing where Ivan should be.

"Don't touch me," Ali said, shaking the touch away.

"Ali, I'm sorry. But it was the right thing to do, to turn him -"

"Just go away -" he paused. Him? "What do you mean turn him in?"

"What? You didn't - nevermind. I'm sorry for getting you thrown out."

Ali spun to face Amadi, realization slapping him across the face.

"You made the call." He stood up and met his younger brother's gaze, hurt and betrayal flashing deep in the irises of his mud brown eyes.

Amadi turned away and his own eyes caught the ground, too timid to face Ali.

"I - I'm sorry. You have to understand, they would've blamed him anyways."

Ali shoved Amadi.

"You made the call?!"

Amadi stayed silent and Ali pushed him into the wall. Amadi flopped, keeping his head - and gaze - down.

"Where are they taking him?"

Amadi closed his eyes, and Ali pushed him again - harder, and the rage engulfed him whole as he slammed his brother into the bricks once again.

"Where," Ali fumed, "is he?"

"Prison," Amadi said in an undertone, a sweat breaking on his hairline.

"No trial?"

"They've already determined the outcome."

"By your doing." Ali cursed. That could only mean one thing, but he had to be sure. "What's the outcome?"

"A public hanging, by request."

Ali slammed his brother into the wall and winced as he hit the brick.

"Too bad they have the wrong Amadi," Ali said in English, bolting for the main road.