The memory came back, pulling Laura to a hot afternoon when she was still wearing a red and white uniform, while Alcel had just entered the first grade of junior high school.

In a city park two blocks from their house, Laura hid behind a large raindrop tree. His breath hitched. His eyes were watching his older brother who was standing not far from him. Laura has always hated Alcel, but her curiosity about the boy's strangeness forces her to secretly follow him.

From her perspective, Laura saw a sad scene. Near the swing area, a male kindergarten student was sitting slumped on the sand, sobbing uncontrollably. Three kids his age surrounded him, cheering and throwing handfuls of sand at him.

The adults around the park seemed busy with their own affairs, too far away to notice the small commotion. However, Alcel stepped closer. His steps were unhurried, his posture was straight, and his face was flat—not at all radiating any intention to help like a hero.

As Alcel stood right behind the naughty children, his shadow fell over them. The three little bullies turned their heads. Staring at Alcel's empty, dark and expressionless eyes, their courage immediately sank. No shouting, no threats. Just the existence of a "creepy older brother" was enough to make the three children run away from the swing area.

Laura, who was peeking out from behind the tree, bit her lower lip. He thought Alcel would ask about the condition of the crying child. However, what Alcel did instead was raise his pocket digital camera, point it at the child's face which was still covered in tears, and press the *shutter* button.

*Click.*

The kindergartner gasped, staring at the edge of the lens with shaking shoulders.

Alcel crouched down, leveling their heights. He turned the camera, showing the small LCD screen in front of the child. "This picture would be prettier if you smiled, Big bro."

The boy stared at the screen for a moment, then wiped his snot with his sleeve. "I-I was hit..." he sobbed hoarsely. "Even though I didn't do anything wrong... I just wanted to be friends with them, but they were always naughty to me."

Laura sharpened her hearing. He waited for Alcel to pat the boy's shoulder, or at least give him a word of reassurance. However, the sound of Alcel sliding out sounded so mechanical and freezing.

"That's none of my business. That's your own business," said Alcel flatly, without the slightest hint of sympathy. "But, does that mean that every matter has to be resolved by crying?"

The little boy was silent, his eyes blinking in confusion. The sentence was too heavy for his brain to digest, as if he had just been suddenly forced to swallow the reality of the adult world.

Alcel didn't care whether the child understood or not. He put his camera back on. "Starting tomorrow, I will come to this park every afternoon. I will take your photos again, every day, and I will give you the printed photo sheets for free."

The child was still looking at Alcel with tears remaining on his cheeks. "W-why?"

"Because a smile is an important composition in a *candid* photo," answered Alcel, purely talking about visual aesthetics, not empathy. "I just want to see, from each photo I provide later, when the composition will appear."

Without waiting for approval, without saying goodbye, Alcel stood up and turned around, walking away from the park with the same rhythm as when he came.

Behind the raindrop tree, Laura squeezed the hem of her skirt. His head was filled with explosive assumptions. *Alcel's older brother is really cruel,* Laura thought. *He intimidates a small child who is crying.*

With her chest rumbling with annoyance and victory—because she felt she had found proof of how bad Alcel's character was—Laura quickly ran home via the shortcut route, ready to complain about the incident to her mother.

***

Laura pushed open the front door of the house while still short of breath. Cold sweat flowed down his forehead after running across the road from the city park. In the living room, his mother was sitting quietly on the carpet, sorting a pile of clothes that had just been lifted from the clothesline.

Hearing a loud slam of the door, the mother turned around. "What's wrong, Ra? Why are you running like that? Being chased by a dog?" he asked in a gentle tone, gesturing for his daughter to come closer.

Laura immediately approached her mother and sat on her knees. His chest was still heaving. "Mother... Mother must scold Big Brother Alcel!" he exclaimed excitedly.

The mother's hand which was folding the shirt stopped for a moment. He looked at Laura with a considering look, but did not convey the slightest panic. "Alcel misbehaved with you?"

"Not to me, ma'am!" Laura shook her head quickly, then began to weave a story filled with overflowing emotions. "In the park earlier, there was a small child who was crying because his friends were bothering him. Then Alcel's older brother came. But he didn't help at all! He instead scared the other children with his scary face until they ran away. Then... then he even scolded the little child who was crying!"

"Scold how?" his mother asked, her voice remaining calm and controlled.

"He said, 'That's your own business!' in a very cold tone, ma'am! The child is still in kindergarten, it's normal for him to cry! But Alcel's older brother actually forced him to smile and take a photo. He's bullying little kids, Mom! Alcel's older brother is truly cruel!" Laura poured out all her assumptions, expecting to see a look of anger or at least disappointment on her mother's face. He wanted his mother to realize how strange and bad the adopted child that his mother had always defended him was.

However, her mother's reaction was far beyond Laura's predictions.

Instead of frowning or taking action, the mother just took a deep breath. A faint smile filled with meaning and a hint of sadness slowly spread across his lips. He put down the neatly folded shirt, then rubbed the top of Laura's head gently.

"Mother, why are you smiling?!" Laura protested, feeling that her complaint was not appreciated at all. "Mother doesn't want to punish him?"

"Dear Laura," her mother called in a very soothing tone. "Was the little boy injured because of Alcel?"

"Eh? N-no..." Laura stuttered.

"Did Alcel hit him? Or take his things?"

"No... but the words were mean, ma'am."

The mother took a slow breath, looking straight into her daughter's eyes which were filled with the fire of prejudice. "Sometimes, what looks cruel from the outside, is actually someone's way of tidying up something messy, Ra. I know your brother very well."

"He's not my brother!" Laura interrupted quickly, looking away with her lips pursed sharply.

The mother was not provoked by emotions. He let Laura's rejection air for a moment, before finally speaking again in a slower and more intimate tone. "Okay. But I ask you one thing. Don't immediately judge Alcel today."

Laura turned back, looking at her mother with a questioning look. "What do you mean, Mother?"

"Let's see tomorrow," said the mother as she grabbed the pile of clothes again. "And again the next day. Keep observing what happens in the park. If after a few days things get worse, I promise I will scold Alcel in front of you. How about that?"

Laura swallowed hard. He was dissatisfied with the diplomatic answer, but he also did not dare to argue with his mother any further. With feelings of annoyance still building in her chest, Laura stood up and stomped her feet towards her own room.

"Just watch tomorrow, Big brother Alcel will definitely make the child cry even louder!" Laura grumbled right before she slammed the door to her room.

In the living room, the mother is now completely alone. The movements of his hands which were folding clothes slowly slowed down, until finally they stopped completely. The gentle smile on his face slowly faded, replaced by eyes that looked far away through the walls of the living room, back to a cold and dark past.

***

The sound of Laura's bedroom door slamming loudly still left a faint echo in the living room. The mother took a deep breath, staring blankly at the pile of shirts in her lap. His hands, which were originally folded nimbly, were now silent. The silence of the house that afternoon slowly pulled his consciousness back through the tunnel of time, to an afternoon that was just as hot many years ago.

At that time, Alcel was only seven years old.

The mother remembers very well the day she received a telephone call from the elementary school. The teacher's voice on the other end sounded panicked, saying that Alcel had been found behind the gym, surrounded by four boys from sixth grade. Kids who were much bigger, rougher, and stronger than him.

When the mother ran into the school area with her heart pounding, she imagined she would see her adopted son crying hysterically, shaking with fear, or at least begging for a protective hug. However, the sight that greeted him actually made him stop in his tracks. His blood felt frozen.

Little Alcel sat on the ground with his uniform dirty with shoe prints and the corners of his lips slightly torn. However, he didn't cry. There was not a single tear in his eyes. There were no groans of pain, let alone expressions of fear.

Alcel just stared at the four children who had just beaten him. That gaze was not anger, let alone revenge. It was a blank stare that was too analytical for a seven year old child. His dark eyes didn't blink, as if he was recording the rhythm of their breathing, calculating the angle of the blow, and exposing the panic that was now creeping onto the faces of the bullies themselves.

The sixth graders looked at each other with trembling bodies. One of them even took several steps back until his back hit the wall, unable to withstand the pressure of Alcel's intimidating gaze in absolute silence. In the end, with no one to chase them away, it was the bullies who screamed in horror and ran away, as if they had just hit an empty shell that was watching behind their souls.

In the living room, the mother closed her eyes tightly, took a deep breath to get rid of the dark memories. He returned to the present.

"You don't understand, Laura," the mother whispered softly into the silence of the room.

He knew exactly why Alcel responded to the crying child in the city park in such a cold way. For Alcel, tears have no functional value. Crying never protected him from blows. The only thing that saved Alcel in the past was his ability to pluck all forms of emotion from himself, turning his consciousness into an observing lens immune to pain.

Alcel didn't mean to be cruel to the kindergarten child. On the contrary, with his rigid and absurd logic, Alcel is sharing the only method of survival that he believes in. He asked the child to smile not to cheer him up like a normal adult, but to change the child's status from 'crying victim of bullying' to 'subject of perfect visual composition'.

A completely functional problem solver.

The mother looked down again, continuing to fold her shirt with slow movements. There was a silent pain that crept into his chest every time he realized that his son had learned to swallow the cruelty of the world in a very empty way. He couldn't change the way Alcel's brain worked. Nobody can.

He could only hope that, in the next few days, Laura would finally be able to see for herself the silent miracle that always emerged from behind her older brother's cold lens.