The next morning arrived no differently than any other, and perhaps that was what made it strange. The sun rose with the same quiet certainty, the roads filled with the same rush of people hurrying toward their routines, and the college gates opened to welcome another ordinary day. Everything around them looked exactly the way it always had. Nothing in the world seemed to acknowledge that someone was missing.

And yet, for the people who had grown used to seeing her there, the absence was impossible to ignore.

Inside Rathore Villa, the house had been louder than usual from the very beginning of the morning not because anything dramatic was happening, but because Vyaan refused to let silence exist for more than ten seconds at a time whenever he was worried.

He stood near the dining table with his bag hanging from one shoulder, looking toward the staircase for what had to be the fifth time in the last five minutes even though he knew perfectly well Saisha was not coming downstairs ready for college.

“She should still come down for breakfast,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, irritation and concern mixing together in his voice. “Doctor ne bola college mat jao, bhooke maro thodi bola tha.”

Across from him, Shauryansh adjusted his watch calmly, though his own gaze had shifted upstairs more times than he would ever admit aloud. “She ate in her room,” he replied simply.

Vyaan frowned immediately. “How do you know?”

“I checked.”

There was no pride in his answer. No dramatics. Just fact.

Vyaan stared at him for a second before narrowing his eyes. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“You were brushing your teeth and talking to yourself in the mirror.”

“I was giving myself motivation.”

“You were dancing.”

“I was motivating rhythmically.”

A soft laugh escaped from the couch.

Saisha sitting there with her leg carefully elevated on a cushion, shook her head while trying not to smile too much.They were arguing so much that they didnt even notice her sitting there.Her ankle still hurt, though she was trying not to show it. The swelling had gone down only a little, but enough that she could pretend she was more comfortable than she really felt.

“You both are impossible,” she murmured.

Vyaan immediately walked toward her, crouching in front of her dramatically. “Tum achanak se niche kaise aagyi , abhi to bhai bole tu aapne room mai thi?"

"Mai breakfast Karne ke baad hi niche aagyi thi gadhe, kbse tum dono ki baate sun rhi thi , fir socha ki tum dono bathroom dance discuss krlo fir hi batty hu ki mai idhr hi hu".she replied while trying not to laugh."You both are impossible sometimes"she murmured.

Vyaan replied"No. You are impossible. Why are you smiling? You are injured. Be serious.”

She blinked. “What kind of logic is that?”

“The kind where my twin is hurt and therefore everyone should be sad.”

“I’m literally fine.”

“You say that too much.”

At that, his joking tone faded slightly.Just enough for sincerity to show through.And Saisha’s expression softened because she understood what sat beneath his constant nonsense.He was scared when she got hurt.

Always had been.

Shauryansh walked toward them then, his movements calm, composed, carrying the same quiet steadiness he always did. He looked at Saisha not dramatically, not emotionally, just carefully. The way someone looked when they were assessing rather than asking.

“Pain?” he asked.

“Manageable.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

She sighed. “Okay, not manageable when I move.”

He nodded once, unsurprised, as if that was the answer he had expected from the beginning.“You’re not walking unnecessarily today.”

She rolled her eyes softly. “Yes, papa.”

Vyaan gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? He gets papa title? Main kya hoon?”

Saisha smiled. “Headache.”

He clutched his chest in fake pain. “Cruel. Deeply cruel.”

Even Shauryansh’s lips twitched faintly.And though the moment was light, none of them missed the way the house felt different with one person staying behind while the others left.Because they had never liked leaving her alone.Not really .As Vyaan and Shauryansh finally walked toward the door, both turned one last time.

“Call if you need anything,” Vyaan said instantly.

“Anything,” Shauryansh repeated, quieter.

Saisha smiled softly. “I’m not dying.”

“That is not the point,” both brothers said at once.

She laughed.And somehow, even that laughter made leaving harder.

****************************************************

IN COLLEGE~

As Kashvi stepped through the college gates with Ivaanika walking beside her, her eyes instinctively lifted toward the place where they all had begun gathering every morning over the past few days. The movement was so unconscious, so natural, that she did not even realize what she was doing until her gaze paused over the half-empty spot and a strange awareness settled over her. For a moment she simply stood there, her fingers tightening slightly around the strap of her bag, because only then did she understand what her mind had done before she could think it through she had searched for Saisha first. The realization felt oddly soft and unfamiliar in her chest, because habits like that were not formed deliberately. They happened slowly, quietly, when someone entered your life so naturally that their presence started becoming part of your routine before you even noticed. And somehow, without announcement or effort, Saisha had become exactly that.

Beside her, Ivaanika seemed quieter than she usually did. It was not dramatic enough for anyone else to point out, but Kashvi noticed the slight lack of energy in her expressions, the way her gaze kept shifting toward the gate as if still expecting someone to appear despite knowing she would not. After a few moments of silence, Iva let out a breath and muttered, almost absentmindedly, “She really must be hating this.”

Kashvi turned toward her with a questioning look. “Hmm?”

Iva sighed, shaking her head faintly as she adjusted her bag over her shoulder. “Missing college. Staying home. Sitting alone while everyone else is here. She definitely must be irritated right now.” A small smile tugged at her lips after a moment. “She does not look like it, but she likes being around people more than she admits.”

Kashvi smiled softly, her eyes lowering for a second as she thought about that. “She does.”

There was something comforting in how naturally concern had become shared between them. Not long ago, they had all simply been acquaintances sitting together out of circumstance, but now Saisha’s absence was being noticed before the day had even properly started.

Their thoughts were interrupted when Vyaan and Shauryansh approached from the other side of the gate, and somehow the feeling in the air shifted the second all four of them stood together. Because now the incompleteness became even more obvious. One place in the circle remained empty, and every single one of them felt it without needing to acknowledge it aloud.

Vyaan looked around dramatically before exhaling heavily, placing his hand against his chest as if deeply wounded. “This group is visually incomplete.”

Iva immediately folded her arms. “You mean emotionally incomplete.”

He pointed toward her at once. “That too. But also visually. My sister is pretty. Her absence affects the environment.”

That made Iva roll her eyes, though a reluctant smile appeared on her lips despite herself, and Kashvi let out a quiet laugh she could not stop.

As their amusement softened the heaviness of the moment, Kashvi’s gaze shifted briefly toward Shauryansh. Like always, his face remained calm, composed, almost unreadable to anyone who did not know him well enough to look deeper. But even in that stillness, she noticed his eyes drift downward for the briefest second toward the phone in his hand before he locked it again and slipped it back into his pocket. It was a tiny action, so subtle most people would not even think twice about it, yet Kashvi understood immediately what it meant. He had been checking for messages. Checking on Saisha. And for some reason, seeing that silent concern affected her more deeply than Vyaan’s open worrying did. Because Vyaan wore every emotion loudly, carelessly, like his heart existed outside his body for everyone to see. But Shauryansh carried his feelings differently. He buried them beneath stillness, beneath silence, beneath small unnoticed habits that only revealed themselves if someone paid enough attention.

And somehow, that made his concern feel even deeper.

As the four of them began walking toward their building together, the atmosphere felt different from usual. Slightly quieter. Slightly emptier. Vyaan tried filling the silence with his usual chatter, and Iva kept snapping back at him with mock irritation, but even beneath their banter there remained an undeniable awareness lingering between all of them that someone was missing, and everyone felt the absence.

Later during their break, when they had all settled near their usual place, the sudden ringing of Kashvi’s phone instantly pulled everyone’s attention toward her. The second she saw the caller ID, her entire face brightened.

“Saishaaaa,” she said immediately, answering the call without hesitation and putting it on speaker.

The moment Saisha’s voice came through the phone, dramatic and offended, everyone smiled before she had even properly spoken.

“Tell everyone I hate you all.”

Vyaan gasped loudly, placing a hand over his chest in mock betrayal. “HOW DARE YOU.”

“You all left me here alone,” Saisha complained dramatically from the other side.

“You were medically removed from society,” Vyaan replied instantly.

“That is not friendship.”

Kashvi laughed softly, unable to help herself, and even beside her she noticed Shauryansh’s posture visibly ease at the sound of his sister’s voice, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly in a way that showed just how much of his quiet tension had been tied to worrying about her.

Iva smiled warmly into the phone. “How are you?”

“Bored. Miserable. Dramatic. Hungry.”

Vyaan nodded seriously as if evaluating her medically. “She is healing well.”

Saisha snorted loudly through the speaker, and for the next several minutes the emptiness that had followed them all morning slowly began fading beneath familiar laughter and teasing. Because maybe she was not standing beside them physically, but somehow her presence still wrapped itself around the group exactly the same way it always did.

And as Kashvi sat there watching all of them laugh, listening to everyone talk over one another while Saisha’s voice echoed through the phone, she felt something quiet settle inside her chest.

None of them had noticed when this had started happening.

None of them had realized when casual company had turned into comfort… when shared space had turned into attachment… when simple friendship had begun growing roots deeper than expected.

But somewhere along the way, these people had started becoming important to each other.

And perhaps the most dangerous thing about meaningful bonds was that they never announced when they were forming.They simply happened,until one day, someone’s absence felt heavier than it should.

KASHVI'S POV~

After the call with Saisha ended and the small warmth her voice had brought faded into soft smiles between all of us, the break bell rang through the corridor, forcing everyone to start moving back toward their respective classrooms. I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and walked beside Ivaanika toward our Fine Arts room, still smiling faintly to myself because even though Saisha was not physically here, somehow she still managed to remain part of every moment we shared. But the second I stepped inside the classroom and saw an unfamiliar woman standing near the desk instead of our previous professor, I physically stopped in the doorway for a second before turning slowly toward Iva.

“No.”

Iva looked equally horrified. “No.”

I stared at the woman standing at the front of the class while the rest of the students shuffled toward their seats, and I swear I could feel my soul leaving my body. It had already been three no, almost four days since college had started, and yet we had barely studied anything because the faculty appointments still were not fixed properly. Every single day some new teacher walked in, introduced themselves, gave a motivational speech about their subject, and then asked every student to stand up and introduce themselves one by one as if we had not all already repeated our names, hobbies, and life goals seventeen times this week.

The woman smiled pleasantly as soon as everyone settled down. “Good afternoon, class. Since I will most likely be handling this subject from now on, let us start with proper introductions.”

I dropped into my chair and stared blankly at the desk in front of me.

Iva leaned toward me and whispered, “I am going to cry.”

“It has been four days,” I muttered under my breath, rubbing my forehead. “FOUR DAYS and all we have done is introduce ourselves.”

“At this point,” she whispered dramatically, “these people know more about me than my own extended family.”

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing.

Honestly, she was not even wrong. I had introduced myself so many times over the past few days that I was genuinely beginning to hate my own name. If one more person asked me why I chose Fine Arts, I might actually forget the answer out of spite.

The teacher started from the first row, asking every student to stand up one by one while the entire class slowly died of boredom. I rested my cheek against my palm, staring ahead while student after student repeated nearly identical versions of the same introduction.

“Hello ma’am, I’m Rohan, and art has always been my passion.”

“Good afternoon ma’am, I’m Sneha, I chose this field because creativity inspires me.”

“Hi ma’am, I’m..”

I wanted to disappear.

Beside me, Iva leaned close and whispered, “If one more person says art is their passion, I will pass away right here.”

That nearly broke me.

I immediately bent my head down pretending to look for something in my bag because I knew if I laughed out loud, I would not stop.

Eventually, after what felt like an entire lifetime, the teacher moved further down the row and reached our side of the classroom.

And now it's Ivaanika's turn to introduce herself. I slowly lifted my head and turned toward her.

Oh no.

No no no.

The second I saw the calm expression on her face, I knew she was about to embarrass all of humanity.

She stood up confidently, adjusted her kurti dramatically like she was about to give a TED Talk, and smiled brightly at the teacher.

“Good afternoon, ma’am. My name is Ivaanika Sharma, but emotionally I answer to ‘stop talking’ because apparently that is what everyone around me says most of the day.”

The entire class burst into laughter.

I physically dropped my face into my hands.

Oh my God.

The teacher blinked, clearly caught off guard but trying not to laugh.

Iva continued without even a hint of shame. “I chose Fine Arts because my family decided either I should do something creative with my life or stop experimenting on the walls of our house.”

Now even the teacher laughed.

“And my hobbies include drawing, annoying people who deserve it, and protecting innocent citizens from overconfident boys who think being loud is a personality trait.”

I lost it.

I bent over my desk laughing silently while half the class joined in.

The teacher shook her head, still smiling. “That is certainly… unique.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Iva said proudly before sitting down like she had not just turned a basic introduction into stand-up comedy.

The second she sat, I grabbed her arm under the desk. “What is wrong with you?”

She grinned shamelessly. “I was memorable.”

“You are a social problem.”

“And yet entertaining.”

I shook my head, laughing helplessly while trying to regain my composure, and for the first time in four days of endless boring introductions, I did not feel like smashing my head into the desk.

Because somehow, with Iva around, even the dullest moments never stayed dull for long.

The laughter in the classroom had still not fully died down after Ivaanika’s ridiculous introduction, and I was still trying to compose myself when the Ivaa reminded me of my turn.

“Kashvi?”

My entire body stiffened.

I slowly turned toward Iva with the most betrayed expression I could manage, as if somehow this was her fault for making the atmosphere so unserious right before my turn.

She grinned at me shamelessly and whispered, “Good luck.”

I wanted to throw something at her.

Taking a quiet breath, I stood up from my seat and adjusted the edge of my kurti nervously before looking toward the front. Unlike Iva, who seemed born to speak nonsense publicly without shame, I had never liked having too many eyes on me at once. I could talk when I needed to, I could hold conversations perfectly fine–but standing in front of an entire classroom while everyone stared at me like I was suddenly the center of attention always made me slightly conscious of my own existence.

I folded my hands lightly in front of me and offered the teacher a polite smile.

“Good afternoon, ma’am. My name is Kashvi Mehta. I chose Fine Arts because painting and sketching have always been the one thing that made me feel most like myself. I’ve loved art for as long as I can remember, and I hope one day I can build something meaningful from it… something that makes people feel the way art has always made me feel.”

The class had gone quiet while I spoke, and for a moment I almost wished I had said something shorter because now I suddenly felt too aware of how sincere I sounded.

The teacher smiled warmly. “That was lovely.”

I nodded softly, murmuring a quiet thank you before sitting down again.

The second I sat, Iva leaned toward me dramatically.

“Oh wow.”

I frowned. “What?”

She stared at me with mock admiration. “Why was your introduction like the female lead monologue of an inspirational movie?”

I elbowed her lightly. “Shut up.”

“No, genuinely,” she whispered. “Mine sounded like a clown audition and yours sounded like you were about to change the world.”

I tried not to smile. “At least yours made people laugh.”

“At least yours made people think you are elegant and sophisticated. Everyone now thinks I escaped from a circus.”

“You did.”

She gasped softly. “Betrayal.”

I laughed under my breath and shook my head, finally feeling the nervousness leave my shoulders.But before we could continue whispering, the teacher looked at us again.

“Both of you seem comfortable with each other already.”

Iva answered immediately, “Trauma bonding, ma’am.”

The entire class laughed again.Even I had to lower my head to hide my smile.

The teacher shook her head, amused, before continuing with the rest of the introductions, but I found myself relaxing back into my chair, feeling lighter somehow. Maybe it was because the day had started dull and incomplete without Saisha, or maybe it was simply because despite only knowing each other for a short time, sitting here beside people who already felt familiar made everything softer.

And as I looked around the room for a moment at Iva beside me trying not to make more jokes, at the students around us slowly settling, at the ordinary little chaos of college life unfolding in front of me.

When the lecture finally ended and the professor left after giving what felt like the fifteenth unnecessary speech of the week, I let out a quiet breath of relief and immediately dropped my forehead dramatically against the desk.

“I cannot survive another introduction,” I muttered.

Beside me, Iva began stuffing her notebook into her bag while nodding seriously. “If one more teacher asks me to tell them a fun fact about myself, I am going to start lying.”

I lifted my head. “You already lie.”

She gasped. “Excuse me. My personality is not lying, it is creativity.”

“It is concerning.”

“It is entertaining.”

I shook my head with a helpless smile and stood up, adjusting my bag over my shoulder before the two of us began walking out into the corridor with the rest of the students. The hall outside buzzed with voices and movement, filled with people pushing past each other and gathering into groups, but my eyes instinctively searched ahead because by now another habit had begun forming–looking for familiar faces in unfamiliar crowds.

And almost immediately, I found them.

Vyaan was the easiest to notice first, obviously, because he never simply stood anywhere like a normal person. He was leaning dramatically against the corridor railing as if posing for some invisible camera while talking animatedly about something I could hear from halfway down the hall. Beside him stood Shauryansh, quieter, composed as always, one hand in his pocket while the other loosely held his phone. Even in a crowd full of noise and chaos, there was something about him that felt still. Grounded. As though the world moved loudly around him while he remained untouched by it.

The moment Vyaan noticed us, he straightened dramatically. “Finally. The artists have emerged.”

Iva frowned instantly. “Do not call us that.”

“Why? It is literally what you are.”

“It sounds sarcastic when you say it.”

“Everything sounds sarcastic when I say it because I am naturally charming.”

“You are naturally irritating.”

“Thank you.”

I laughed softly under my breath while stepping closer, but before I could say anything, Vyaan narrowed his eyes suspiciously at both of us.

“You two look traumatized. What happened?”

I groaned dramatically. “Another introduction.”

His mouth fell open. “Again?”

“Again.”

“That is criminal.”

I pointed at him immediately. “Exactly.”

Iva placed a hand over her chest in fake pain. “We have introduced ourselves so many times this week I no longer know who I truly am.”

Vyaan nodded solemnly. “Deep.”

“It is not funny.”

“It is a little funny.”

“It is not.”

Before I could continue, I noticed movement beside him.

Shauryansh, who had been mostly silent while listening to the chaos around him, lifted his gaze toward me. His expression remained calm as always, but there was the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes.

“How many introductions now?” he asked quietly.

The simplicity of the question caught me slightly off guard.

I blinked before answering, “At least six.”

And for the smallest second–

his lips twitched.

Barely.

Just enough to resemble the beginning of a smile.

“Impressive,” he murmured.

I stared at him.

Not because of the word.

Not because of what he said.

But because I had never seen even that much visible amusement on his face before.

Something about it made warmth unexpectedly bloom in my chest.cIvaa immediately pointed at me. “She gave an emotional speech in her intro, by the way.”

My eyes widened. “ivaa...”

Iva gasped dramatically. “YES SHE DID.”

“Oh my God shut up.”

But she didn't stop .She turned fully toward Shauryansh. “Brother, she stood there talking like she was auditioning for a motivational documentary.”

I buried my face in my hands instantly. “I hate all of you.”

Iva laughed so hard she bent forward slightly. “She said art makes her feel alive and she wants to make people feel emotions through her work..painting and sketching have always been the one thing that made me feel most like myself”

“STOP.”

Vyaan clutched his chest dramatically. “Beautiful. Inspirational. I nearly cried.”

I wanted the floor to open and swallow me whole.And then-I heard it.A soft, quiet chuckle. My hands slowly lowered.

Shauryansh had turned his face slightly away, but not enough to hide it completely.

He was laughing actually laughing a soft ,quiet and undeniable laughAnd for one suspended second I forgot how embarrassed I was because all I could think was:He laughs beautifully.The thought came so suddenly it startled me.I immediately looked away my heart doing something strange and uncomfortable in my chest.

Why had I noticed that?

Why did that matter?

Why did my face suddenly feel warm?

“You explained it well,” Shauryansh said then, his voice calm again when I looked back up. His gaze met mine directly, steady and unreadable except for that faint softness still lingering there. “There is nothing embarrassing in saying something honestly.”

The teasing around us quieted for just a moment then suddenly my embarrassment melted into something else entirely.Something softer.Quieter.

Because unlike the others, he was not laughing at me now.He was reassuring me andmthat affected me more than the teasing itself.I swallowed lightly and gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”He nodded once simple and small.But enough.

And while the others started talking again around us, while Vyaan and Iva returned to their usual fighting and chaos ,for some reason, I could still feel the warmth of that moment lingering.The softness in his voice.The sincerity in his eyes.And the quiet way one simple sentence from him had eased all my embarrassment.

SHAURYANSH'S POV~

After parting ways with the others, I made my way toward my department building with my hands resting inside my pockets, walking through the quieter corridor that led toward the criminology block. The atmosphere here always felt different from the rest of campus. Unlike the louder sections where students crowded together laughing, shouting, and talking over one another, this part of the building carried a strange sense of discipline. Conversations were quieter here, movements calmer, and even the general air felt more serious somehow. Maybe it was because everyone in this department naturally adapted to the nature of what they studied. Or maybe people interested in criminology simply tended to observe more than they spoke.

Either way, I preferred it.

As I stepped into my classroom, most students had already arrived. Some were revising their notes while others quietly spoke to the people beside them, but the room settled almost immediately the moment I walked toward my usual seat near the middle row and sat down. I placed my notebook on the desk, aligned my pen beside it out of habit, and leaned back slightly just as our professor entered carrying his files beneath one arm.

The room fell silent almost instantly.

He was not a man anyone took lightly. Strict, serious, and entirely uninterested in tolerating laziness, he had a reputation for expecting complete attention the second he entered a room. Without wasting time, he placed his files down and looked up at all of us.

“Today we continue criminal psychology,” he began. “If you wish to understand crime, you must first understand people. Criminal acts do not occur randomly. Human behavior is never random. Every action, every reaction, every pattern–there is always something beneath it.”

My focus sharpened immediately.

Unlike many of my classmates, who were drawn to criminology because they found crime thrilling or dramatic, what interested me had never been crime itself. It was people. Their minds. Their motives. The invisible reasons behind why they became who they became. Understanding behavior had always fascinated me far more than simply memorizing facts ever could.

As the lecture continued, my pen moved steadily across the page, noting down each point with automatic focus while the professor paced slowly across the front of the room.

“When observing a person,” he continued, “never focus only on what they say. Words are controlled. Rehearsed. Filtered. People think before they speak. If you want to understand someone honestly, observe what they do unconsciously. Their habits. Their reactions. Their expressions when they forget they are being watched. People reveal themselves most in what they do without thinking.”

My pen paused.Only for half a second and immediately my thoughts betrayed me because without warning, my mind flashed elsewhere.Toward soft eyes ,toward nervous hands folded together while standing in front of a classroom,toward a gentle voice speaking honestly because it did not know how to be anything else.

I blinked once and immediately looked back down at my notebook.Ridiculous.I exhaled slowly and forced myself to keep writing.

The professor continued the lecture, now moving toward involuntary expressions and behavioral analysis, discussing how emotions often appeared physically before a person consciously acknowledged them. Most of the class listened with varying levels of interest, but I stayed focused–until one particular line made my attention sharpen more than the rest.

“Sometimes,” he said, pausing in front of the desk, “interest begins before awareness. A person starts noticing someone before understanding why. You remember details about them unintentionally. You observe them more than others without meaning to. You become aware of their habits, expressions, and small behaviors before you consciously understand what that attention means.”

A few students laughed softly.Someone muttered something teasing under their breath.But I did not react because for the first time in the lecture those words did not feel academic.They felt personal.And I hated that.

Because suddenly, whether I liked it or not, I was becoming painfully aware of certain things.

The way I had noticed Kashvi’s expressions more than once in the past few days.

The way I remembered the softness in her voice when she spoke.

The way I had begun recognizing the smallest changes in her facewhen she was embarrassed, when she was amused, when she was trying not to laugh.

The way my attention drifted toward her naturally in a room before I even consciously chose it.

My grip around my pen tightened faintly. No.Surely I was overthinking.

And yet even as I tried dismissing it, my own mind betrayed me again by replaying details with irritating clarity.The way her eyes softened when she smiled.The way sincerity naturally lived in her words.The way she seemed to mean everything she said.

I stared down at my notebook for a long moment, no longer truly seeing the words written across the page.And for perhaps the first time in a while, I found myself deeply annoyed by how accurate psychology could be.

Because whether I was ready to admit it or not ,something in me had started paying attention to her more than I should.

When class ended and everyone began gathering their belongings, I remained seated for a few extra seconds, staring blankly at the page in front of me while my thoughts stayed somewhere far from the classroom.

By the time classes ended, the corridors had begun filling with the usual end-of-day noise. Students poured out of classrooms in groups, laughter and chatter echoing through the hallways, bags slung over shoulders, everyone already halfway out of academic mode and into the relief of the day being done. Vyaan and I had stepped out of our building together, walking side by side through the crowd while he continued talking about something entirely unnecessary–most likely complaining about a professor who had apparently “personally targeted his happiness” by giving extra reading.

I was only half listening.

My mind was quieter than usual, still faintly occupied by thoughts from the lecture earlier, by things I had not quite finished thinking through.

Then suddenly Vyaan stopped mid-sentence.

“Look.”

I glanced at him.

He was already staring ahead with narrowed eyes before his entire face brightened in recognition.

A few feet away near the outer corridor railing stood Kashvi and Ivaanika, both beside each other with their bags hanging off one shoulder, clearly waiting before leaving. Even from this distance I could tell something about them seemed off. Not wrong–just tired. Mildly irritated. As if something had annoyed them enough to leave visible traces behind.

Vyaan immediately changed direction without warning. “They look disturbed. I need information.”

And before I could respond, he had already started walking toward them.

I followed.

The moment we reached them, Vyaan dramatically looked between both girls and frowned. “You both look traumatised. What happened?”

Kashvi let out the softest groan of frustration.

And inexplicably, the tiny sound pulled immediate amusement from somewhere inside me.

“Another introduction,” she said.

Vyaan physically recoiled. “Again?”

“Again.”

A faint smile touched my lips.

I watched Kashvi roll her eyes beside her, and despite the irritation in her face, there was something almost soft about the way she carried it—like even her frustration looked gentler than most people’s.

“How many introductions now?” I asked before thinking much of it.

Her eyes lifted toward me instantly.

And once again, I hated how aware I became every time her attention landed directly on me.

“At least six,” she sighed.

That made the corner of my mouth lift slightly. “Impressive.”

Ivaa immediately pointed at me. “She gave an emotional speech in her intro, by the way.”

The second she said it, I saw Kashvi’s posture change.

Her shoulders stiffened faintly.

Her eyes widened.

Embarrassment.

I noticed it instantly.

“What about it?” I asked.

She turned fully towards me. “Brother, she stood there talking like she was auditioning for a motivational documentary.”

Kashvi covered half her face instantly, groaning. “I hate both of you.”

And for one strange moment ,I just looked at her because watching her get flustered this openly, this honestly, without pretending not to be embarrassed it was unexpectedly endearing far more than it should have been.

“What did you say?” I asked quietly.

Her eyes flickered toward mine before darting away again. “Nothing dramatic.”

“That means it was dramatic,” Vyaan replied proudly.

“I hate all of you,” she muttered.

“No you don’t,” Iva said.

“Yes I do.”

Still smiling, Iva looked toward us and repeated, “She said painting makes her feel most like herself and that she wants to make people feel through her art.”

And just like that everything around me faded quieter because the second I heard those words, something inside me stilled.

My eyes moved to Kashvi again.

She was visibly embarrassed they had repeated it, but I could see something beneath that embarrassment too ..truth...She had meant every word.There had been no performance in what she said. No attempt to impress anyone. No dramatic exaggeration.

She had simply spoken honestly.

And for some reason, that sincerity affected me more than I expected because people rarely spoke that honestly anymore.People filtered themselves constantly. Adjusted themselves. Changed their words to seem cooler, less emotional, less vulnerable.

But Kashvi had simply stood there and said exactly what she felt and maybe that was what made me say it before I could overthink it.

“You explained it well.”

Everyone quieted.

Kashvi looked at me like properly looked at me.

And I held her gaze as I said calmly, “There is nothing embarrassing in saying something honestly.”

For one brief second, the world around us felt quieter.

Then I watched her expression soften the embarrassment faded slightly from her face, replaced by something and warmer.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

I gave a small nod but internally....internally I was no longer listening to the conversation around us because my thoughts had gone somewhere else entirely toward the fact that I was noticing too much ...wait.. I think far too much.

The way her eyes softened when she smiled. The way she reacted when embarrassed. The way sincerity naturally existed in everything she said.

And the thought struck me again, heavier this time.Why was I paying this much attention?

It had been three days barely three.Three days since I met her. Three days since she entered my life as simply Saisha’s friend.

So then why...why did every little thing about her remain in my head longer than it should?

Why did I keep noticing details I had no reason to remember?

Why did my eyes keep finding her before anyone else?

My jaw tightened faintly as I looked away for a second, trying to gather my own thoughts while the others resumed talking.

This was unfamiliar and I hated unfamiliarity when it came to myself because usually I understood exactly what I was feeling. Why I was feeling it. What caused it.

But this–this I did not understand.

All I knew was every time I looked at her,I wanted to keep looking.

The evening crowd had begun gathering near the college gate by the time all of them reached there together. The golden light of the setting sun spilled softly across the pavement, painting everything in warm amber tones while students moved in clusters around them, some rushing toward autos, some waiting for rides, others lingering just a little longer before going home. Their group naturally slowed near the gate, none of them in much hurry to leave despite the day being over.

Vyaan, as usual, was the loudest presence among them.

“I am telling you,” he said dramatically while walking beside Ivaanika, “you have serious anger issues. Actual psychological concern.”

Ivaanika stopped in her tracks and turned toward him with offended disbelief. “ME? Main problem hoon? Tum poore din mera dimaag khaate ho and I have anger issues?”

“Yes,” Vyaan nodded shamelessly. “Because look at your tone. Always violent. Always aggressive. No peace. No femininity.”

Iva stared at him for a full second before narrowing her eyes. “No femininity?”

“Yes.”

She smiled.

That smile alone made Vyaan instinctively step back.

“Repeat that once more,” she said sweetly.

He pointed dramatically toward everyone else. “Witnesses. Dekho iski aankhon mein murder aa gaya.”

Kashvi laughed immediately, shaking her head while even I had to look away briefly to hide the faint amusement threatening at the corner of my mouth.

Iva stepped toward him. “Bol phirse.”

“You need therapy.”

“TUMHE ICU chahiye.”

“Violence! See?” he shouted. “Publicly threatening me!”

“Because you deserve it!”

“No, because you are obsessed with me.”

Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

He folded his arms proudly. “You fight me this much because deep down you care.”

“Deep down I want to hit you with a chair.”

“That is passion.”

“That is attempted murder.”

Everyone laughed softly.

Even Kashvi bent slightly with laughter, trying to hide her smile, while I simply stood there watching the chaos unfold with practiced acceptance. Some people truly thrived in nonsense.

Then suddenly the sound of a car slowing near the gate made all of them glance up.

A sleek familiar car came to a stop near the curb.

Ishir.

The second Vyaan saw him, his entire face lit up. “BHAAAIII!”

Without warning he nearly jogged toward the car before Ishir had even stepped out properly.

Ishir closed the door calmly, looking only mildly prepared for whatever nonsense was coming.

“Why are you running at me?” he asked flatly.

“Because I missed you,” Vyaan replied dramatically, hugging him sideways before Ishir could dodge.

“You saw me yesterday.”

“That is too long.”

Ishir gently shoved him off. “Move.”

The others approached, all smiling softly at the interaction, and then before the moment could become another Vyaan performance, I stepped slightly forward.

My expression straightened.

My tone softened.

“Bhaiya.”

Ishir looked toward me.

And though I was not usually someone who struggled to speak my thoughts, I found myself pausing briefly before continuing.

“Thank you… for helping Saisha yesterday.”

The atmosphere around us quieted subtly.

Even Vyaan stopped joking for once.

I met Ishir’s eyes and continued more sincerely, “For taking care of everything. Hospital, doctor… dropping her home. I know it must have disturbed your whole day.”

His expression softened almost immediately.

And he shook his head faintly as if dismissing the thought before it could even settle.

“It is alright,” he said calmly. “You do not need to thank me for that.”

Still, I continued. “No, I should. You did more than necessary.”

He looked at me for a second longer, then gave the smallest nod.

“She needed help,” he replied simply. “That is enough reason.”

Something about the way he said it— without pride, without showing off, without expecting gratitude— settled somewhere quietly inside me.

Because some people helped others loudly. Some made sure everyone knew their goodness.

But Ishir carried responsibility the way truly dependable people did–

silently , naturally without needing recognition and perhaps that was why my respect for him deepened in that moment.I gave him a small nod. “Still… thank you.”

His eyes softened further, and for the first time since I had met him, his smile reached slightly warmer.

“You care for your sister a lot,” he observed.

I glanced away briefly before answering simply, “Of course.”

He nodded once, understanding immediately.

Then beside us Vyaan added dramatically, “We both do. But I am the emotional one. He is the scary one.”

“I am not scary,” I said flatly.

“You stare at people like you know when they will die.”

Kashvi choked trying not to laugh.

Ishir bhai laughed softly too And the atmosphere lightened again.something subtle shifted in that moment between Ishir bhai and me.

Not in a loud and dramatic way but enough to feel it–the quiet beginning of mutual respect the kind men build not through words, but understanding.Then after a pause, Ishir looked toward me again.

“By the way,” he said casually, “how is Saisha now?”

My expression softened slightly at once. “Better. She is resting. Still complaining though.”

“That means she is recovering well,” he replied.

A small smile touched my lips.

“Yes.”

He hesitated then, very slightly, before speaking again.

“If it is alright with you…”

I looked at him.

He continued, calm and respectful as always, “Can I message her sometimes? Just to ask how she is doing. I would rather hear directly from her than disturb everyone else asking.”

For half a second I simply stared.

Then understanding hit.

And immediately warmth settled in my chest.Not suspicion. Not discomfort.Only quiet appreciation because the fact that he had asked– asked me first, as her brother, out of respect–spoke more of his character than anything else could have.

And I respected that deeply a faint smile touched my face before I nodded.

“Of course.”

Then I added honestly, “Thank you for asking.”

He seemed mildly surprised by that. “Why?”

“Because most people would not.”

Something understanding passed between us in that second.

And he nodded once, as if he understood exactly what I meant.

Then I unlocked my phone and handed it to him. “Tell me your number.”

He did.

I saved it.And as everyone fell back into casual conversation again, I stood quieter than before– watching, thinking.

Because somewhere in the middle of all this noise, teasing, and laughter…

something new had begun.

Connections.

Trust.

People slowly becoming important to each other in ways none of us had expected.

And perhaps the strangest part of all–

was how natural it already felt.

It was Ishir who finally glanced at the time on his watch before looking toward Kashvi.

“Come,” he said simply. “Let’s go.”

Kashvi nodded naturally, already adjusting the strap of her bag because that much required no explanation. Ishir picked her up every day whenever timings aligned–it had become routine long before college ever began.

But just as Kashvi started moving toward the car, Ishir’s eyes shifted toward Ivaanika.

“And you’re coming too.”

Iva blinked in confusion. “Me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because Ma called.”

His tone remained as calm and matter-of-fact as ever.

“She asked if you’re with Kashvi. When I said yes, she told me to bring you home too.”

And just like that–

Iva’s entire face lit up.

“Oh.”

The reaction was immediate, instinctive, almost childlike in the way warmth spread across her features.

“Aunty called me?”

Ishir gave her a flat look. “That is what I just said.”

But she ignored his tone completely.

“Awww.”

Kashvi folded her arms instantly, narrowing her eyes. “Look at her face. Disgusting. One call from my mother and suddenly she has forgotten dignity.”

Iva gasped dramatically. “Excuse me, your mother loves me.”

“She loves me more.”

“She tolerates you because she gave birth to you. She loves me by choice.”

Vyaan made a choking noise trying not to laugh.

“Oh, that was brutal.”

Kashvi looked genuinely offended. “Wow.”

Iva proudly flipped her hair back. “Truth hurts.”

Before Kashvi could respond, Ishir cut in with tired patience, already walking toward the car.

“Both of you stop talking and sit before I leave without either of you.”

“That threat includes me too?” Iva asked dramatically.

“You are not special.”

She smiled shamelessly. “Still being picked up though.”

Kashvi glared at her. “You’re insufferable.”

“And loved.”

“Unfortunately.”

Vyaan laughed loudly while even I had to look away briefly to hide the faint smile threatening on my face.

The two girls moved toward the car still bickering quietly under their breath, and just before opening the passenger side, Iva paused dramatically and looked toward Kashvi.

"Mai aage baithungi"

Kashvi stared at her in disbelief. “EXCUSE me? That’s my seat.”

“Aunty summoned me personally. Rank matters.”

“That is MY brother!”

“And MY aunty.”

“That is not how relations work!”

“That is exactly how they work.”

Kashvi turned immediately toward Ishir. “Bhai!”

Ishir didn’t even look up while unlocking the car. “Sort it out yourselves.”

“TRAITOR,” Kashvi accused.

Vyaan bent over laughing now. “Please continue. I’m emotionally invested.”

After another thirty seconds of pure nonsense, Iva sighed dramatically and climbed into the backseat.

“Fine. Main humble hoon. Oppression tolerate kar leti hoon.”

“You are dramatic for no reason,” Kashvi muttered while sitting in the front.

“Main entertaining hoon.”

“Tu exhausting hai.”

Before Ishir got in, he looked back toward us once.

“Take care.”

I nodded lightly. “You too, bhaiya.”

Then after a pause, more sincerely, “Aur… thank you again.”

His expression softened faintly and he knew exactly what I meant.

“It’s alright,” he said simply.

Then he got in the car.

But before the window rolled fully up, Vyaan leaned dramatically toward Iva’s side.

“Bye fake Mehta beti!”

Iva instantly leaned forward from inside. “Bye unwanted Rathore baccha!”

“I am literally beloved!”

“By delusion!”

“CHUDAIL!”

“CLOWN!”

“PSYCHO!”

“OVERACTOR!”

And before the fight could continue further, Ishir rolled the windows up and drove off, leaving Vyaan still yelling after the car while Iva shouted muffled insults from inside.I stood there quietly, watching the car disappear down the road.

Beside me, Vyaan sighed softly.

“Yaar…”

I glanced toward him.

He smiled, but this time there was no teasing in it.

“Mujhe woh log bohot pasand hain.”

I looked ahead again.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and added quietly, “Warm lagte hain. Jaise… ache log hain.”

My eyes remained fixed on the road where the car had vanished and I understood exactly what he meant because warmth was the only word for it.

That family– the way they cared, the way they made space for people they loved, the way even Ishir naturally treated Ivaanika like she belonged–

it all felt effortless.

Real.

And before I could stop myself–

my thoughts drifted toward Kashvi again.

Toward the sound of her laughter still ringing softly in my ears.

Toward the way she smiled without holding back around people she loved.

And once again that same thought returned–

It had only been three days.

So then why…

why did she already remain in my mind this much?

The moment the car pulled away from the college gate and the noise outside slowly faded behind them, a softer quiet settled inside the vehicle. The air conditioner hummed faintly in the background, the evening traffic moved steadily around them, and for the first few seconds the only sound inside was Kashvi adjusting her bag and Iva still muttering under her breath about “seat injustice.”

Ishir drove with one hand resting loosely on the steering wheel, his expression calm as always, but there was the faintest amusement still sitting on his face from everything that had just happened.

It was Iva who broke first.

“Waise,” she said suddenly, leaning forward dramatically between the seats, “why does Vyaan that languor hugs you like you’re returning from war every time?”

Kashvi burst into laughter immediately.

Even Ishir let out a quiet breath through his nose that was almost a laugh.

“I have no idea,” he replied calmly. “Usko lagta hai shayad woh emotional hero hai.”

“He is,” Kashvi nodded seriously. “Emotionally unstable hero.”

Iva laughed loudly. “Nahi but genuinely, the way he runs toward you every time–‘BHAAAI’–like aap foreign se laut ke aaye ho.”

Kashvi immediately copied Vyaan’s dramatic voice perfectly, “BHAAAI AAP AA GAYE.”

Both girls dissolved into laughter.

Even Ishir shook his head faintly.

“Pehle din jab mila tha na,” Iva continued dramatically, “mujhe laga maybe they’re childhood best friends reunited after twenty years.”

“He met him two days ago,” Kashvi laughed.

“Exactly!”

Ishir smiled faintly this time, eyes still on the road. “He is just like that.”

“But cute hai thoda,” Iva admitted with a grin. “Golden retriever energy.”

“Bilkul,” Kashvi nodded. “Human labrador.”

That made Ishir laugh softly.

And then after a small pause, his tone shifted slightly–warmer, quieter.

“He’s a good kid.”

The girls both softened a little at that.

Iva smiled. “He is.”

Kashvi nodded. “Very pure-hearted.”

Ishir’s gaze remained on the road ahead, but his voice carried quiet thoughtfulness now.

“Most people loud hote hain attention ke liye,” he said. “But he’s loud because his heart is too open. There’s a difference.”

The car grew softer after that sentence.

Because both girls knew exactly what he meant.

They had all seen it already– how Vyaan joked too much when worried, how he smiled too loudly when emotional, how every feeling inside him somehow came out exaggerated because he simply did not know how to hide what he felt.

“He really loves his people openly,” Kashvi murmured.

“Haan,” Ishir nodded. “Aise log kam milte hain.”

There was genuine respect in his voice.

And then after a second he added with the faintest smile, “Waise mujhe hug karke almost gira diya tha.”

Both girls burst out laughing again.

“Usko boundaries nahi aati,” Iva wheezed.

“Bilkul nahi,” Ishir muttered.

Kashvi grinned. “Aapko pasand aaya though.”

Ishir instantly glanced at her. “Maine kab bola?”

“You didn’t have to,” she smirked. “Face pe likha tha.”

He shook his head. “Tum log overanalyse bohot karti ho.”

“Bhai,” Kashvi said dramatically, “aapke life mein pehli baar kisi ladke ne aake itne pyaar se hug kiya hai and you’re pretending you didn’t melt?”

“I did not melt.”

“You emotionally melted.”

“I absolutely did not.”

Iva joined in immediately. “Thoda sa toh hua tha.”

“No.”

“Bas itna sa?” she pinched fingers together.

“No.”

“Bas baby amount?”

“Iva.”

She laughed louder.

Then Kashvi smiled softly, leaning back in her seat.

“But honestly…” she said quieter now, “it was nice seeing you smile with them.”

That made the teasing fade a little.

Ishir’s hands stayed steady on the wheel, but his expression softened.

“They’re good people,” he replied simply.

“Haan,” Iva agreed immediately. “Very.”

“And Shauryansh?” Kashvi added, watching him carefully. “Aapko kaise lage?”

Ishir’s eyes flickered briefly toward her before back to the road.

“Grounded,” he said after a pause. “Responsible. Respectful.”

Then a faint knowing smile touched his lips.

“And very protective.”

Kashvi smiled softly.

“Haan.”

Iva leaned forward again dramatically. “And handsome.”

Kashvi choked instantly. “IVA.....”

“What?” Iva grinned shamelessly. “I’m just saying. Good genes in that house.”

Ishir sighed tiredly. “Tum dono please normal behave kar lo ek din.”

“Never,” both girls said together.

And that made him laugh again a real one this time.

Small. Warm. Unforced.

The kind that made both girls grin because they knew— Ishir didn’t laugh easily and maybe that was why the whole drive home felt warmer than usual.

Because somewhere between teasing Vyaan, talking about the Rathores, and laughing too much in the car ....something subtle had happened.

The distance between everyone was shrinking.Slowly and naturally.

Into something that no longer felt like new friendships but the beginning of something deeper