The house was filled with screaming, your father's voice painfully ringing in your ears. He was mad at you for dropping a glass while cleaning the dishes. Your mother just stood in the corner, observing. The tears were threatening to fall from your eyes as he raised his voice even louder, approaching you with a furious expression.

You currently sat on Islam's doorstep, knees tightly hugged to your chest. Tears were silently rolling down your bruised cheek as you waited for him to come back from his training in the woods. He has always been there for you, no matter how bad the situation was. You found comfort in his reserved and calm nature, a stark contrast to your usual homelife.