style="font-size:15px;"> – All the same, Sanzhar, you are already an adult, five years older than your sister. You need to be a little gentler with her.
Sanzhar nodded, realizing his mistake, and quietly replied:
– Okay, dad, I realized my mistake. I think I’ll go to my room.
Erlan smiled at his son with approval:
– Come on, be a good boy.
Sanzhar got up from the table and slowly walked to his room, thinking about what had happened. Aida and Erlan remained at the table, continuing to discuss the past day. The warm evening, filled with mixed feelings and thoughts, was coming to an end, leaving behind a feeling of satisfaction and anticipation of something new.
1:7 Computer game. Sanzhar, leaving his parents in the kitchen, slowly walked up the stairs to his room. His thoughts were still wandering around the recent dinner and Zhaniya’s resentment. He realized that he had done wrong, and now this thought weighed on him. Opening the door to his room, he plunged into the familiar world of technology and games, where every element was carefully selected and configured for productive work and rest.
Sanzhar’s room was filled with coziness and an atmosphere of creativity. On the table there were two monitors, which softly glowed with multi-colored lights, reflected in the keyboard with a bright backlight. A poster on the wall with the logo of their joint game Unity of War reminded him of the current project, which he and Lesha had been working on for several months. This corner was a place for Sanzhar where he could immerse himself in a world created by his own imagination and technical skills.
Sanzhar sat down at the computer and quickly checked which of his friends were online. As soon as he opened the game, a message from Lesha appeared on the screen: “Hi! Let’s test the new version?” Sanzhar typed back: “Come on! How are you doing, by the way?”
Unity of War loaded quickly, and their characters found themselves in the center of a virtual world filled with dynamic battles and intense strategies. It was a complex project that required both of them not only technical knowledge, but also creative thinking. While they fought other players, the dialogue between the friends continued.
“How are your studies?” Sanzhar asked, dodging an attack from an enemy who unexpectedly jumped out from around the corner.
“Fine, I’m continuing to delve into programming,” Lyosha answered, his voice sounding focused. “They give a lot of homework at KBTU, but it’s interesting. How are you?”
“Everything’s fine with me,” Sanzhar answered, pushing his way through enemy lines. “By the way, our game is almost ready for testing. How’s the programming going?”
“It’s going well, but sometimes there are bugs,” Lyosha admitted. “And now I’ll need to fix a few things. Lags at the most inopportune moment…
Sanjar heard the disappointment in his friend’s voice as the game suddenly slowed down, and then a “lag” appeared on the screen, freezing the characters in place.
– There, you see? That problem again. I’ll have to dig into the code again, – Lesha sighed heavily.
– Yeah, – Sanjar felt his friend’s annoyance. – Okay, don’t worry. You’ll cope, as always.
– I hope so, – Lesha sounded a little upset. – Okay, I need to go figure this out. Then we’ll discuss how to improve the graphics and sound.
– Okay, let’s go. Good luck, – Sanjar said, exiting the game.
The room was filled with silence again, interrupted only by the noise of the fans in the computer. Left alone, Sanjar immersed himself in his thoughts. Zhaniya’s grievances and the tension in his relationship with his sister suddenly seemed more important than the bugs in the game. Deciding it was time to apologize, Sanjar stood up and headed for the door to go to his sister and make peace.
1:8 Reconciliation with the younger sister. Sanjar quietly approached the door of Zhaniya’s room and knocked, trying not to be too loud, but not too quiet. There was no answer. He waited a few seconds, then knocked again, this time a little more insistently. From behind the door came the muffled, slightly capricious voice of his sister:
– What do you want?
Sanjar thought for a moment about how to best reconcile with his sister, then smiled slyly and suggested:
– Let me show you a new trick?
Quick footsteps were heard behind the door, and a few seconds later Zhaniya ran out into the living room, her face glowing with anticipation. She always adored tricks, especially when Sanjar showed them. She sat down on the ottoman, ready for a new magic show, her eyes literally shining with anticipation.
Sanjar, pleased that he had attracted her attention, stood opposite his young spectator. He began to manipulate the cards, deftly shuffling them in his hands so that they seemed alive, then took several other props out of his pocket – small balls, handkerchiefs, coins. Zhaniya did not take her eyes off him, her attention was riveted to every movement of her brother.
With each passing moment, the trick became more and more impressive. The cards magically disappeared and reappeared, the coins unexpectedly turned into multi-colored balls, and the handkerchiefs tied themselves into knots. Zhaniya sat, holding her breath, with a wide smile on her face.
However, their passion for magic was interrupted when Aida’s voice was heard from the kitchen:
– Children, you have to get up early tomorrow! Get ready for bed, tomorrow is work, university and school!
Zhaniya, although she sighed, her face still glowed with a smile. She looked at Sanzhar and said with sincere gratitude:
– Thank you, Sanzhar, it was great.
Sanzhar, feeling that the moment had come to finally settle the relationship, extended his hand to his sister and, smiling, said: “Peace?”
Zhaniya, still smiling, nodded vigorously and shook her brother’s hand firmly. It was their little reconciliation, a gesture that meant more to both of them than any words.
– I have a favor to ask of you, – Sanjar began, slightly nervous. – Can I hang your painting of the flying city in my room? I really liked it.
Zhaniya narrowed her eyes, her gaze became sly, but there was not a drop of offense in it:
– Okay, take my painting… but only if you play chess with me.
Sanjar raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing that chess was not his favorite game, but quickly agreed:
– Okay, for such a beautiful painting I am ready to play a game with you. Let’s do it tomorrow.
Zhaniya happily jumped up from the ottoman and ran to her room. A moment later she returned, holding the painting in her hands. She handed it to her brother with special trepidation, as if she were handing over something precious, and then, saying “Good night,” she ran back again. Sanzhar turned the painting over in his hands, admiring its details once more, and, with a slight smile on his
