More important thing

Tarik strode purposefully through the halls of the university, his steps echoing off the polished floors. The vibrant atmosphere, teeming with students hurrying to and fro, seemed to momentarily hush as all eyes instinctively turned toward him. He ignored the curious glances and made his way to the receptionist's table, where a young woman sat, her eyes widening as she took in his imposing presence.

"How can I help you?" she asked, her voice betraying a hint of trepidation.

"I'm here to see—" Tarik began, but his words were abruptly cut off.

"Aaaaa!" Professor Maro, a seasoned academic in his 50s, hurried toward Tarik, his eyes filled with a mix of urgency and relief.

"I will help this gentleman," Professor Maro interjected, addressing the receptionist before grasping Tarik's elbow and leading him away. Tarik's eyebrow raised slightly, surprised by the professor's uncharacteristically agitated behavior.

"I thought we would meet in your office," Tarik remarked, his voice tinged with a note of confusion.

"You're a good kid, Tarik, but you're a gangster," Maro responded with a sigh, his voice tinged with resignation. "It wouldn't be good for my reputation, no offense. I'm already hanging by a thread, on the verge of being kicked out of this school by the dean. I misgendered a student again, struggling to keep up with their ever-changing demands."

"Want me to talk to this dean of yours? Anything for my father's old friend."

Maro waved off the offer, a mixture of gratitude and hesitance flickering in his eyes. "That won't be necessary, Tarik. Trust me, it's a battle I'll have to fight on my own. Now, the reason I called you here... it's about your brother, Kone. He wasn't present for my exam, which is highly unusual for him. I've asked around, and no one has seen him for about two weeks. Don't you speak with him regularly?"

Tarik's gaze dropped, a veil of shame descending upon him. "I don't want him anywhere near my organization, Maro. They don't even know I have a brother."

Concern etched deeply into Maro's features as he placed a reassuring hand on Tarik's shoulder. "Tarik, perhaps it's time for you to consider stepping away from that life. You're resourceful, talented—you could find a job that pays enough to support your brother's tuition."

"After our parents died, I had no other choice," Tarik confessed, his voice laden with resignation. "You know as well as I do that an average job won't cut it. And it's not that easy to leave this life behind, Taro."

Maro's eyes softened with understanding as he offered Tarik a small smile. "You're a good kid, Tarik. Sacrificing yourself for the sake of your family."

Breaking the momentary silence, Maro reached into his pocket and retrieved a key, tossing it to Tarik with a sense of purpose. "This is your brother's dorm room key. If anyone asks, I didn't give it to you." Maro glanced around, his eyes darting nervously, before turning back to Tarik. "And if anyone asks, you didn't see me." he walks away a couple steps then turns back agains. "If anyone asks, you didn't even know me. No offense."

Tarik closed his fingers tightly around the key, his face set in determination.

****

As Tarik stepped into Kone's dorm room, the door creaked softly. His eyes scanned the tidy space, taking note of the neatly arranged research papers that adorned the shelves. Each one was meticulously labeled, offering glimpses into Kone's scholarly pursuits. Tarik couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for his younger brother's dedication and intellectual curiosity. Two particular research papers caught his attention—one focused on radiation, the other on non-visible light for humans. It was evident that Kone's thirst for knowledge extended beyond the boundaries of conventional academia.

"What were you up to, little brother?" Tarik murmured to himself as he settled down at the desk in his brother's dorm room. The room felt eerily quiet, as if holding its breath, its walls devoid of any personal touches. His gaze shifted to the laptop on the desk, a silent sentinel waiting to reveal the secrets hidden within.

With a mix of anticipation and trepidation, Tarik opened the laptop, and a prompt appeared on the screen, demanding a password. He pondered for a moment, his mind racing through the possibilities. His brother's birthdays? No, that wasn't it. His name? That too proved fruitless.

"What could it be?" Tarik pondered, his eyes wandering around the dorm room. There were no posters adorning the walls, no personal artifacts that would provide a straightforward answer. He allowed his thoughts to wander, contemplating the significant figures in Kone's life.

"Hmm... maybe?" he whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room.

With a mixture of hope and hesitation, Tarik slowly typed his own name into the password field. The keystrokes echoed softly in the room, each press of a key carrying the weight of uncertainty. A moment of anticipation hung in the air as Tarik hesitated before pressing the enter key.

****

8 years back in time. A younger Tarik, in normal clothes and without any tattoos, enters in a humble, dimly lit flat, a worn-out sports bag slung over his shoulder. It was nighttime, with purpose, he made his way toward the kitchen when a faint glow caught his attention. A slightly ajar door bathed the corridor in light, beckoning him closer.

"Tarik!" Kone's voice reverberated through the small room, filled with a mix of urgency and fear. The door swung open, revealing Tarik's figure framed against the dimly lit hallway. He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the surroundings, immediately noticing the presence of his younger brother, Kone, huddled beneath the protective cover of a blanket.

"What is it, Kone? You should already be sleeping," Tarik gently chided, his tone tinged with concern as he approached the bed. Kone slowly raised his head, revealing a face that bore a striking resemblance to Tarik's.

"Something is in my closet," Kone whispered, his voice barely audible yet heavy with sincerity. Tarik's brows furrowed momentarily, his expression betraying a hint of exasperation. He sighed, reluctantly acquiescing to his brother's plea, and made his way to the closet while dropping his bag on the bed.

The door creaked open, revealing a collection of neatly arranged clothes and mundane objects. Tarik's gaze swept across the interior, searching for any signs of intrusion or mysterious figures. But there was nothing out of the ordinary—only the familiar belongings of a young boy.

"See, Kone? There's nothing here," Tarik declared, his voice laced with a mix of reassurance and weariness. However, Kone remained resolute, a flicker of doubt tugging at his heart. "I saw it, Tarik. It looked like Mom, but it wasn't her," he insisted, his voice tinged with a childlike certainty that belied the weight of his words.

Tarik's shoulders slumped as he sat on the edge of the bed, the weight of their shared loss hanging heavily in the air. His voice softened, laced with compassion and understanding. "I know the accident was hard on you, little brother, but we need to find a way to move forward. They are not coming back."

Kone sniffled, tears glistening in his eyes, but he nodded in understanding, silently acknowledging the truth in Tarik's words. The conversation shifted, the tension momentarily easing as Kone sought to redirect his brother's attention.

"How was practice, Tarik?" Kone asked, a glimmer of excitement in his voice as he reached for the bag Tarik had brought with him. Tarik's eyes met Kone's, a flicker of sadness clouding his gaze.

"It was okay," he replied, his voice carrying a tinge of melancholy. Sensing something amiss, Kone's gaze shifted toward the bag, his eyes widening in confusion.

"Where are your gloves?" Kone questioned, his tone filled with genuine bewilderment.

Tarik sighed "I sold it."

"But why? Boxing is your life."

A sigh escaped Tarik's lips as he stepped closer to his brother, gently taking the bag from Kone's grasp. His hand rested upon Kone's head, a comforting gesture that conveyed unspoken love and protection.

"Something else is more important to me," Tarik explained, his voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and determination. He reached into the bag, retrieving a book about dimensions.

Kone's eyes widened with curiosity as he took hold of the book, his small fingers tracing the embossed title. A smile crept across his face, mirroring Tarik's own resolve.

"I don't know what I will be when I grow up," Kone admitted, his voice filled with a blend of innocence and determination, "But we will be rich and have no problems, Tarik."

Tarik's smile widened, his heart swelling with pride and affection for his younger brother. As the room was bathed in the soft glow of a single light bulb, Tarik's hand instinctively reached for the light switch.

"You need to get enough sleep to concentrate in school. Goodnight, Kone," Tarik said, his voice carrying a mix of tenderness and brotherly love. With a flick of his fingers, the room plunged into darkness, leaving Kone alone with his newfound sense of purpose.

Clutching the book tightly to his chest, Kone settled back onto the bed, his eyes closing in anticipation. A serene smile graced his lips.

Yet, as the room settled into stillness, a subtle disturbance stirred in the air. The silence was broken by a soft, ominous creak—the sound of the closet door slowly inching open behind Kone. Its hinges protesting against the intrusion of the unknown.

Kone's eyes widened with a mix of shock and alarm as he sat up in the bed, his mouth poised to scream a warning to his brother. But, in a sudden display of determination, he bit back his cry. His grip tightened around the book, his knuckles turning white with resolve, as his gaze fixed upon the dark recesses of the closet.

*****

Tarik sat before Kone's laptop, his gaze fixed on the screen as he entered his own name as the password. A moment of uncertainty hung in the air as he pressed the "Enter" key.

As the screen transitioned to reveal Kone's online profiles, Tarik couldn't help but feel a sense of disapproval, a faint sigh escaping his lips. He navigated through the various platforms, scrolling through posts and photos, searching for any clue that might shed light on Kone's recent activities and the mysterious circumstances surrounding his disappearance.

A video caught Tarik's attention, saved on the computer from two weeks ago, the last recorded footage of his brother. The anticipation weighed heavily on him as he clicked to play the video, watching intently as Kone stumbled through the dimly lit tunnel. The beam of his flashlight flickered before abruptly dying out, plunging him into darkness.

Tarik's heart clenched as he witnessed the moment when something unexpected appeared before Kone, causing him to drop the phone and abruptly end the recording. A mix of concern and frustration coursed through Tarik's veins. He couldn't fathom why Kone had continued his exploration of such perilous locations, despite Tarik's own efforts to shield him from the dangers of his underworld activities.

"I thought you'd given up on this thing," Tarik muttered to himself, shaking his head in a blend of disappointment and worry.

Turning his attention to Kone's email account, Tarik sifted through the flood of mundane messages and spam that cluttered the inbox. But amidst the sea of impersonal advertisements, one email stood out—a curious invitation to a ghost hunting event hosted by a group called Paranormal Freaks, scheduled for tonight.

A glimmer of hope flickered within Tarik's eyes as he contemplated the significance of this invitation. If Kone had indeed ventured into the realms of the supernatural, perhaps this group held answers or connections to the mysteries that had engulfed his brother's life.

"Well, if my brother moved in these circles, this bunch might know something," Tarik mused, his thoughts aligning with a newfound determination. The weight of responsibility settled firmly upon his shoulders as he composed a reply to the email, expressing gratitude for the invitation and confirming his attendance.

With a decisive click of the "Send" button, Tarik set in motion a chain of events that would thrust him into a world where the boundaries between reality and the supernatural would blur.