After Veeru finished telling his story, a heavy silence filled the room. He sat still, unmoving, as if his memories had settled over him like a weight too heavy to bear. For four long years, he had survived alone in this quiet hollow tree, living off the skills his parents had once taught him. And today, I was the first person to visit him in all that time.
My chest felt tight. Everything he had gone through—his parents' sacrifice, the aching solitude, the quiet creaks of this old treehouse echoing with no one but him—it all sat in my heart like a lump of stone. His pain was right there in front of me, raw and flickering in his eyes. I wanted to speak, to offer him something comforting, anything to ease that pain… but I couldn't. My throat felt dry, and words never came easy to me.
What could I possibly say to someone who had lost everything and still managed to keep going?
My hands started fidgeting in my lap. My fingers twisted the hem of my shirt without me even realizing. When I looked at his face again, I noticed how his shoulders had slumped, like the weight of the last four years was still resting heavily on them. It was as if he'd been carrying it all on his back with no one to share it with.
I slowly pulled my chair a little closer. My heart was beating faster now, not because I was scared, but because I felt useless just sitting there. I knew what it was like to feel alone, but his kind of alone? That was a different beast.
Inside, my thoughts were loud. I kept telling myself to speak. "Say something, idiot. Tell him he's strong. Tell him he's not alone anymore." But every phrase I thought of sounded hollow, like something copied from a cheap self-help book. They didn't feel real enough.
I swallowed hard, my mouth dry, and instead of forcing a sentence, I leaned forward and gently placed my hand on his shoulder. I hesitated at first, my fingers stiff, unsure if the gesture was too small, too late. But I kept my hand there, hoping that the quiet touch would say what my voice couldn't.
The silence between us stretched on, broken only by the dry rustle of leaves in the breeze outside. I didn't dare look at him. I was afraid—afraid that my presence, my gesture, might not be enough to make a difference.
But then I heard him exhale, a quiet shaky little breath. And something changed. It was as if a small part of that burden he carried had lightened, even if just for a moment. I turned my head and risked a glance at him. He was still gazing at the floor, but his expression had softened. The tension in his face had eased a little, like the walls around him had lowered just enough to let a little air in.
Maybe it was enough. Maybe just being here, not running away from his pain, was enough.
I finally found the courage to speak. My voice was quiet and clumsy but honest. "I… I don't know how you did it," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "But you're not by yourself anymore, Veeru. Not now." I didn't know if it was the right thing to say, but it was all I had.
My hand stayed on his shoulder. The silence between us no longer felt heavy. It felt like the beginning of something new—fragile, but warm.
Some time had passed, but Veeru still sat in silence. Not because he felt nothing — but because he was still trying to process everything. I didn't have the heart to break that silence either. So, I stayed seated beside him, letting the quiet stretch between us.
Eventually, the stillness began to feel... heavy. Awkward. I quietly stood up and walked toward the window of our treehouse.
Outside, the forest lay in peaceful stillness. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting soft patterns of gold on the floor. A warm breeze carried with it the earthy scent of sun-kissed soil and distant wildflowers. For a moment, I just stood there, breathing it in.
Then, an idea flickered in my mind — maybe food could ease the silence between us.
I took a deep breath and, without turning away from the window, said gently,
"Veeru... I was thinking…" I paused, just enough to gather the right words.
"How about we cook something together?"
Veeru blinked slowly and looked up, his ears twitching ever so slightly.
"Cook?" he asked, as if the word felt distant — something he hadn't heard in a long time.
"Yeah," I said, turning toward him with a faint smile. "Something simple. Comforting. Maybe something sweet and spicy."
His gaze lingered on me for a moment, cautious, curious. Then he scribbled a note in his little notebook and held it up.
"You cook?"
I nodded. "Living away from home taught me. Cooking helps me distract myself when I feel lonely."
For a few seconds, Veeru didn't reply. Then, like a flicker of memory surfacing from long ago, a tiny smile tugged at the edge of his mouth. Quietly, he stood up and pointed toward a shelf in the kitchen. After jotting something down again, he handed me the notebook.
"There's some rabbit meat stored over there — still fresh from yesterday's hunt. Or if you want something fresher, we can go out and hunt. Roc-bird, golden wendigo, maybe even green serpent. Their meat is delicious."
As I read it, it suddenly hit me — of course he eats this stuff. He lives in the forest. But I hadn't told him yet… that I was vegetarian.
Before I could speak, Veeru seemed to assume we were going hunting. He started getting ready, slinging his small sword over his shoulder and hooking a small crossbow to his back.
"Wait! Wait, Veeru!" I said quickly, stepping toward him. He paused, lowering the weapon. Then he scribbled again:
"Why? Do you prefer rabbit? Or do you already have meat in your item box?"
I chuckled awkwardly and shook my head.
"No, I don't have any meat. And we're not going hunting... because we don't need any meat at all."
Veeru tilted his head, clearly confused. Just as he raised his pen to write something, I blurted out,
"I never told you this, but… I don't eat meat. I'm a vegetarian."
He froze for a second, eyebrows lifting in visible surprise. Then slowly wrote:
"What are you, some kind of sage or saint? Didn't you say you're from that other world of yours?"
I laughed lightly. "I am. From a place called Earth — more specifically, a country that's very old and very religious. Many people there have practiced vegetarianism for centuries. While in modern times lots of people do eat meat, a huge part of the population still eats vegetarian food daily. My mom is very religious, and in our family, no one eats meat."
Veeru stared at me for a long moment. Then slowly scribbled:
"I get it. You follow your family's beliefs and respect them. That's... kind of admirable. But didn't you say we'd eat something delicious and sweet 'n spicy? Are we just going to nibble on fruit with salt?"
I laughed again and shook my head.
"No, no, you misunderstood! See, because so many people back home eat only vegetarian food, we've developed tons of amazing recipes over the years. Seriously delicious stuff. And today, I'm going to cook you one of them."
Veeru raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. Then a slow, mischievous grin spread across his face.
"Delicious... vegetarian... food. That itself sounds like a contradiction. But I'll trust you. Worst case, I still have rabbit meat."
I gave him a mock glare, puffing out my cheeks as if offended. I was about to scold him when he quickly scribbled again:
"Alright, alright! Enough talk! Let's get cooking!"
With an innocent expression, he spun on his heels and trotted toward the kitchen. I shook my head and smiled, letting the scolding slide.
Instead, I said, "Let's make it outside as we will be using fire. I've got most of the ingredients in my item box."
He nodded in agreement, grabbed his notebook and pen again, then headed toward the door. Just before stepping out, he paused, scribbled a quick question, and turned the notebook toward me.
"So, what are we making?"
I smiled. "It's a dish from my world, a mix of two different cooking styles from different countries. We call it 'Honey Chilli Potato.' It is one of my favorite dishes and really delicious"
Veeru's eyes lit up with curiosity.
"Sounds delicious... let's see if it actually is."
We stood just outside the treehouse, the golden afternoon sun casting a warm glow over our skin. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves above us, and I closed my eyes for a moment, mentally listing the ingredients I'd need for honey chili potatoes — and checking which ones I already had in my item box.
"Let's see... I'll need large potatoes, onions, bell peppers, dry red chilies, ginger, toasted sesame seeds, vinegar — wait, I don't have vinegar, but lemon juice should do. Then there's Schezwan sauce, tomato ketchup, soy sauce, salt... and of course, honey — which Veeru already gave me, so that's covered."
I chuckled to myself, a little grateful for my past self. "Good job, Samir," I muttered. "Those late nights watching sauce-making videos weren't for nothing after all."
Sure, these wouldn't have the industrial flavor enhancers, so the taste might differ slightly — but honestly, given this world's magic and ingredients, whatever I made would be unique anyway. Making soy sauce here had been particularly tricky. I was lucky to have found a decaying tree in the forest while hunting for mushrooms — it had just the right mold to kickstart the fermentation process.
Only the potatoes were missing now.
Looking over at Veeru, I said, "The main ingredient of this dish is the potato," and focused my energy to summon one using plant magic. I extended my hand toward the soil — and to my utter shock, a massive potato plant sprouted up before me. It was taller than I was. I froze in place, blinking at the towering green stalk.
"What the…?"
Veeru stared in disbelief as well, tilting his head. The sheer size of the plant was unnatural.
Still stunned, I said, "This is a potato plant. Usually, they're not… well, not this big. I've grown plenty before, but none ever turned out like this."
Veeru looked at me like I was the world's biggest fool, smacked his forehead dramatically, then scribbled quickly into his notebook before handing it over.
"Foolish man, I know what a potato plant looks like. I've foraged wild potatoes myself. The plant isn't huge — you are tiny. Must be those intelligence points you wasted. Maybe they're affecting your brain."
Embarrassed, I scratched my head, grinning awkwardly. "Heh… right, I shrank myself earlier, didn't I? Totally slipped my mind."
Still red-faced, I took a few steps back and channeled energy again. My body expanded, my clothes adjusting with me, until I was back to my normal height. Veeru watched the transformation with wide eyes, as if I'd pulled off some kind of miracle.
"Let's focus on food," I said, retrieving a wooden table from my item box. I extended a hand to Veeru, who leapt into my palm and let me place him gently onto the tabletop.
He quickly scribbled another note and handed it to me.
"Your plant magic is incredible. You can grow food anywhere. It's perfect for survival. And that size-changing magic? I've never even heard of anything like it. And you… use it so casually. No training, no effort."
There was a hint of jealousy in those words — understandable. In this world, power was often earned through grueling effort, and here I was, breezing through it. If I were in his place, I might have felt the same.
I said softly, "Yeah… it's not really fair, is it?" Then I smiled and added, "But right now, let's not think too hard about it. We've got potatoes to peel."
I plucked the potato plant from the ground, revealing seven plump roots dangling from its base. I washed them quickly using water magic, storing two in my item box for later. Taking one, I peeled and sliced it into finger-sized pieces, showing Veeru how it was done.
"Can you peel the rest and toss them into this wooden plate?" I asked.
Without hesitation, Veeru took knife from me — comically large in his tiny hands — and began peeling with surprising skill. Watching him work so diligently, so seriously, with his small hands and large blade, made me smile.
While he focused, I sliced the ginger, onions and bell peppers, then pulled a pan from my item box and set it over flame. A drizzle of oil, a sizzle, then came the ginger and dry red chilies, popping and releasing their spicy aroma into the air. I added the sliced vegetables and stirred them gently. The scent was heavenly — savory, slightly sweet, and spicy — and I noticed Veeru glancing toward the pan, drool threatening to escape the corner of his mouth.
Just then, a rustle came from the forest.
Two green goblin-like creatures burst through the underbrush, each barely waist-high, wielding crude rock hammers. Veeru instinctively went on guard, his fur standing on end.
I stepped forward, calm. "It's alright, Veeru. I've got this."
Raising a hand, I cast an ice spell. Within seconds, both goblins were encased head-to-toe in shimmering frost, frozen mid-step.
Veeru blinked at them, then scribbled again:
"That's how you deal with monsters?! Are you sure you're not a monster yourself?"
I laughed, rubbing the back of my head. "Let me just put up a barrier so more don't show up. That smell is probably attracting everything nearby."
I activated a magical barrier, sealing off the area and locking the aroma inside.
By now, the onions had caramelized slightly. I added the Schezwan sauce, tomato ketchup, and soy sauce, stirring the mixture as it simmered. The rich, tangy aroma hit the air again — I transferred the sauce to my item box to keep it warm.
Veeru had finished cutting the potatoes and proudly standing there with knife in his hand. I rinsed them with water magic, then brought a large kadai to a boil with water, salt, and a spoonful of lemon juice. Once bubbling, I tossed the potato fingers in to parboil. When they were half-cooked, I drained them and used wind magic to dry them, then tossed them in a bowl with cornstarch and a pinch of salt.
Back to the kadai. I added oil and began frying the coated potato slices over medium heat. Veeru's eyes sparkled at the sight — totally entranced.
"Hey, Veeru," I said, turning to him as I stirred the frying potatoes, "you've lived here alone for so long. Don't you ever feel like… leaving? Exploring?"
He hesitated, ears twitching slightly. Then he scribbled:
"Sometimes, yeah. When I get really bored. But this treehouse… it's my home. I don't know if I can leave it behind."
I nodded. "I get that. But… if you want to come with me, I wouldn't mind the company. We could travel together, explore this world, share food, stories… and neither of us would have to be alone anymore."
Veeru paused, genuinely considering it. His eyes reflected something thoughtful — maybe even longing. But I didn't press.
"Don't stress about it now," I said, smiling. "Let's eat first. Potatoes are ready for the second fry."
I turned up the heat on high flame and gave the potatoes one final fry until they were perfectly crisp and golden. Then I retrieved the pan with the sauce, reheated it, and tossed the hot potatoes in, mixing quickly. I added the golden honey Veeru had gifted me, along with toasted sesame seeds, and stirred it all together.
The glaze coated each potato stick perfectly.
"Honey chili potatoes, ready to serve."
I plated the dish carefully and added two glasses of freshly made orange juice to the table. I sat down on my chair while Veeru, barely able to contain himself, settled right next to his plate, eyes wide with excitement. The aroma rising from the dish was sweet, spicy, and mouthwatering.
I smiled at him, warmth in my chest.
In this quiet corner of the forest, with a friend by my side and a delicious meal before us, the world felt a little less lonely.
Veeru now sat in front of the dish, holding the fork and wooden glass he'd brought from his treehouse. I gently poured five drops of orange juice into the cup — surprisingly, that was enough to fill it completely. Smiling, I leaned forward and said,
"Veeru, try this. Let me know how it tastes."
He plucked one of the golden potato sticks from the plate and brought it to his nose. Watching him sniff it with such focus, I couldn't help but feel like he was intoxicated just by the aroma alone. His eyes softened, almost dreamily, and for a moment he hesitated. Then, slowly, he took a bite.
In the quiet air around us, the only sound that followed was a soft, satisfying crunch.
I leaned forward, watching his reaction closely.
As the sweet and spicy glaze met his tongue, his ears twitched. His brows lifted in surprise — then gradually, his eyes fluttered shut. Not from shock… but from peace. Pure, unfiltered enjoyment.
He didn't say a word — couldn't, with food in his mouth — but he didn't need to.
A soft hum escaped his throat, like a content purr vibrating in his chest. His shoulders, always slightly tense and alert, finally relaxed as if he'd been holding his breath and just now remembered to exhale.
One stick gone — he immediately grabbed another. Then another. And another. Watching him devour the dish with such eager delight, I couldn't hold back a chuckle.
"Arre Veeru! Eat slowly! I've made plenty, and we're not in a race! There's no hurry."
I pointed at his drink. "Have some juice too, before you choke!"
He paused, glanced at me with a guilty smile, then nodded. Putting down the fork, he gestured excitedly with his hands, trying to express just how much he loved the food. Then he picked up the wooden glass, took a small sip — and immediately his eyes widened. He looked shocked at how good it was.
Before I could say anything, he gulped down the rest in one go, held up the empty glass proudly, and gave me a look that clearly meant:
"More, please!"
I laughed and quickly refilled it for him.
Watching him like this brought back memories — memories of my own friends. I remembered the times we drank beer together, and how I used to make pakoras for them. The moment I brought them out; they'd devour them within minutes and demand more. I always scolded them playfully for it — throwing curses at them while frying the next batch.
Thinking of those moments, I smiled.
I picked up a fork made using my magic, and took a bite myself. The Flavors hit my tongue just right — it tasted exactly like the honey chili potatoes I used to make in my kitchen back on Earth. I let myself enjoy the moment fully. The honey Veeru had given me was incredible — pure, natural, and deeply flavorful. The juice, too, was refreshing, though I couldn't help but wish for a chilled beer right now.
But I sighed. No chance of finding that in a forest. I didn't even know how to brew one.
"I should've learned," I muttered.
There had been so many videos online — how did I never try?
Well, nothing to do about it now. Maybe I'd find something in a town nearby. I let out another sigh and focused on my food.
For a while, we sat there in complete silence — the only sounds were the quiet rustling of leaves, and the soft crunching and slurping of two very hungry eaters.
Eventually, we finished the meal. Veeru, now on his seventh glass of juice, gulped it down and let out a huge, satisfied burp. He patted his round little belly and, without another word, slumped on the table and fell asleep.
I sat back in my chair, equally stuffed.
"We might've overdone it," I whispered to myself with a grin.
I had planned to store the leftovers in my item box… but there was nothing left to store.
After a while, the sun moved, and a beam of sunlight slipped through the leaves and hit my face. I blinked, slowly waking from the daze of a full stomach. I wiped my mouth and looked at Veeru, who was still fast asleep.
Quietly, I started cleaning up. First, I washed the dishes, then stored them all in my item box. Once everything was neat, I gently shook Veeru awake.
He jerked upright, looking around in a panic. His eyes darted everywhere, until they landed on me. Then he relaxed a little, taking a deep breath.
"Probably a bad dream," I thought.
I handed him some water, which he drank quickly. He splashed a bit on his face too, and seemed to feel better. Then he picked up his notebook and scribbled something quickly.
He handed it to me. It read:
"Meeting you, enjoying such good food... It felt like a dream. But now that I see you're really here, I feel happy."
I smiled.
"A dream, huh? Well, I'm still here, in the flesh!"
Veeru chuckled and wrote again:
"The food was amazing. I've never had anything so delicious in my whole life. The flavor reminded me a bit of roasted Red Boar — but this was even better. From now on, I'll never underestimate vegetarian food again. I'll try it more often. Though… I still love meat. I don't think I can ever give it up. I was thinking — maybe I could try cooking it your way, with your seasonings."
I grinned.
"Eat what you like — but keep meat far away from me. And definitely don't ask me to cook it."
Veeru nodded quickly, indicating an "okay."
I stood up and stretched.
"Alright, I think it's time I head to town. I need to find a place to stay — and it's been a while since I've explored."
Hearing this, Veeru's ears drooped. He looked visibly sad.
Seeing that, I reassured him,
"Don't worry, I've marked this place on my map. I'll come back — maybe even tomorrow. And you know I can travel fast."
That seemed to cheer him up a little. He stared at the ground for a moment in thought, then suddenly picked up his notebook and wrote:
"I was thinking about your idea… I'd like to come with you to the town. I want to see the outside world, eat the food you make, and travel with you. I've been alone here for a long time. Living in this forest is peaceful, but sometimes… I want to wander too. And like you said — whenever I miss home, we can come back."
Reading that, I was overwhelmed with joy. The first real friend I had made in this world — and he wanted to come with me. No more loneliness. I'd finally have someone to travel with.
I picked him up in my arms and spun around excitedly.
"That's the best decision you've made, Veeru! We're going to explore, eat well, and help each other — maybe even find a way back home for me!"
But as I placed him back on the table, I realized I might've overdone it — he looked dizzy and stumbled clumsily.
"Oops... maybe too much spinning," I said, scratching my head.
"Sorry, buddy."
He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and wrote:
"Never spin me like that again. Also, we can't leave just yet. I need to pack. Put my stuff into your item box. And shrink down again — come help me get everything ready."
I laughed and nodded.
"Alright, alright. Let's go."
I shrank down to Veeru's size, stored the table away, and the two of us began walking back toward his cozy treehouse, ready to pack up for our next journey.