Finally, the day every student dreads had arrived—the final exams. The judgment day of the academic calendar. A day that didn't care whether you were a topper or a last-minute crammer—it demanded answers either way.
The air was different that morning. The usually buzzing corridors now echoed with tense whispers and rapid footsteps. Classrooms were unusually quiet, the playful spirit of the students now buried under heaps of notes, coffee-fueled nerves, and chewed-up pens.
Vansh stepped into his classroom, his bag slung over one shoulder. He placed it down beside his desk, exhaling quietly as his eyes scanned the scene. Aanya stood by the window, flipping through her notebook, her brows slightly furrowed in focus. The morning sun streamed in beside her, highlighting strands of her hair like threads of gold. She wasn't nervous on the outside—but her pacing thumb and restless page-flipping told a different story.
Vansh unscrewed the cap of his bottle and took a slow sip, his gaze wandering across the room.
Everywhere he looked, there was anxiety. A girl clutching her lucky charm keychain like it was sacred. A boy muttering words and phrases under his breath, eyes shut tight. Two students were in the corner arguing over whether the guessed questions would appear in Section B. Another whispered, "If I don't score well, my parents will cancel my phone plan."
And just like that, tension crackled in the air.
That's when the door flew open.
"THE LEGEND HAS ARRIVED!"
Srujan marched in with exaggerated drama, making a grand entrance like he was walking onto a movie set. His presence was loud and alive—a stark contrast to the room's quiet dread. His arms were wide, his smile radiating confidence, and the dramatic swish of his backpack toss made a few heads turn in relief.
The effect was immediate. Students gravitated toward him like moths to a light.
"Srujan! You don't look even slightly scared! What's your secret?!"
He smirked, pushing his hair back as though he had rehearsed the gesture.
"Fear? In this room? Not today! Trust me—you'll all ace it. You've studied. You've survived this year. Now go out there and own that paper!"
Somehow, hope flickered back into a few tired eyes. The corners of mouths lifted. A quiet cheer even escaped the back row.
But the universe had its balance.
THWACK!
A sharp kick landed on Srujan's back as Dhanush, ever the voice of reason, marched in behind him.
"Don't block the doorway, idiot."
Srujan hit the floor with a groan, landing in a heap near a desk.
Vansh, sitting nearby, chuckled quietly under his breath. He tried to mask it behind his water bottle, but Aanya caught the slight upturn of his lips. Her eyes lingered on him for a second longer than usual—half torn between amusement and curiosity.
Srujan pulled himself up, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt, glaring dramatically at Dhanush. "You could've just said 'excuse me,' you know."
Dhanush rolled his eyes. "You didn't have to act like Gandhi giving a motivational speech either. Besides, you haven't even studied."
Someone overheard and asked, "Wait… seriously? You didn't study at all?"
Srujan smiled innocently. "It's not about me. If my classmates do well, that's good enough for me."
"You absolute clown," Dhanush muttered.
Vansh motioned Dhanush over, and without hesitation, Dhanush grabbed Srujan by the collar and began dragging him across the classroom like a disobedient pet.
Srujan clung to Vansh for dear life. "Bro, help me! I'm doomed! I haven't even opened my textbook. This is my endgame!"
"What did you do, then?" Vansh asked, amused.
"There was a new game released yesterday... I had to finish the campaign."
Aanya sighed from her corner, pulled out a folded set of notes, and handed them to him.
"Read this. It has the basics covered."
Srujan held the papers like they were a gift from the heavens. "Aanya, you're a blessing to this earth. A divine scholar."
Vansh nodded to her. "Thanks for helping him."
She gave a short nod, then turned to Dhanush. "You ready?"
Dhanush adjusted his spectacles with exaggerated grace. "I'm the CR. I must be the ideal student. Naturally, I've studied everything."
"Hmm," Aanya said with a small, suspicious smile.
She glanced at Vansh next. "And you?"
"I've studied enough to do well," he replied coolly.
"What about you?" he asked in return.
"I finished everything," she replied with a soft grin.
The three boys blinked.
"Oh..." they chorused in unison, as if they had just been collectively humbled.
The bell rang.
Chairs scraped back as students rushed to their seats. Bags were zipped and stowed away. Whispered prayers intensified.
The teacher entered, clipboard in hand, glasses perched on her nose. She looked around sternly, clapping once.
"Everyone, sit at your assigned roll numbers. No talking."
As she began distributing the papers, her eyes scanned the classroom like a hawk. When students looked up nervously, she gave a rare, brief nod—as if saying, You'll be fine. Just do your best.
Vansh was about to take his seat when Dhanush leaned in again.
"You sure you're alright?"
"Yeah," Vansh said, not quite meeting his eyes.
"You've been skipping meals. Half-eaten lunches, quiet all week…"
Vansh smiled faintly. "I'm totally fine."
"If you say so," Dhanush muttered and walked away.
But Vansh wasn't looking at him anymore. His eyes had wandered toward the back of the class—where a girl was walking toward him. Not Aanya.
She leaned in, her voice just above a whisper. "All the best," she said and walked off just as quickly, leaving a silence behind her.
Srujan, Dhanush, and Aanya had all seen it.
"Who was that?" Srujan asked.
Vansh shrugged. "No idea."
But the way he kept staring at her retreating figure said otherwise.
Aanya didn't speak. Her eyes flicked between the girl, and Vansh. Then back again.
The teacher clapped again. "Start writing only after I say begin!"
The answer sheets were handed out. The exam had officially begun.
The scratching of pens echoed in the classroom. Chairs creaked occasionally, papers rustled, and every now and then someone sighed or muttered under their breath. The teacher walked the aisles slowly, her heels clicking rhythmically, watching, observing, making quiet notes.
Aanya read through the paper with narrowed eyes. It was harder than expected. Her confidence wavered for a moment.
Srujan stared at the first page like it was written in another language. Still, he wore a forced smile, trying not to panic.
Dhanush sat straight-backed, marking answers with clinical precision.
And Vansh… had no visible emotion. His face didn't move. He read the questions, and yet, his eyes looked distant—like part of him wasn't even in the room.
Outside the windows, the world went on as usual. Birds chirped. A janitor swept the hallway. Life didn't care about the storm in their heads.
Three hours passed.
When the final bell rang, a wave of relief washed over the classroom. Students trickled out, some chatting excitedly, some sulking, some simply exhausted.
Dhanush emerged with his usual pride, expression unchanged.
Srujan stumbled out next, deflated.
"That was... the worst paper of my life," he muttered, eyes glassy.
Vansh gave him a small pat on the shoulder. "Now now…"
Srujan turned to Aanya. "Thank you... again. Those notes saved me."
Dhanush glanced at the group. "Five more exams to go."
"NOOO!" Srujan screamed dramatically.
"Shut up," Dhanush said, clamping his hand over his mouth.
Aanya giggled at the scene, light and genuine.
Vansh looked at her, then looked away again—but not before placing a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle a smile.
"I have to head home early," Dhanush said, checking his phone. "Family stuff."
"See ya, CR," Srujan waved.
"Bye," Aanya and Vansh said together.
As Dhanush walked off, the hallway began to empty. But something subtle had changed in the air—something quiet, but real. Not just the end of one exam. But the beginning of a shift.
Vansh slung his bag over his shoulder lazily, just as Dhanush turned back toward him with a concerned expression.
"Eat properly, okay?" Dhanush said with a firm, older-brother tone that didn't match his usual dry demeanour.
Aanya nodded in agreement beside him, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes playfully at Vansh. "Yeah. You're turning into a walking ghost. I've seen your lunchbox half-full for days."
Vansh chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "You two act like I'm gonna faint any second."
Before Aanya could say more, Srujan jumped between them, his voice as puzzled as his expression. "Wait, what? When did this become an intervention?" He grabbed Vansh's wrist dramatically. "Come on! There's still hope left in this world. We've got one day to study. Let's make it count!"
Dhanush smirked, adjusting his glasses. "You've only just realized that?"
Their laughter faded behind them as Dhanush took Srujan along. Since Dhanush and Srujan lived in the same neighbourhood, they parted early, Vansh went with Aanya, as their usual bus was waiting for them, both went inside.
This time, there was no question—they sat beside each other.
The late afternoon sun cast golden streaks through the smudged windows of the bus. The plastic seats were warm, slightly sticky from a day of sunlight, and the overhead fans hummed softly but did nothing to ease the heat. As they settled in, the conductor gave a cheeky smirk in their direction, a silent tease that neither acknowledged—except for Aanya, who pouted at him in mock annoyance.
Aanya, without a word, pulled a bar of chocolate from her bag and bit into it in one go, chomping like a predator.
Vansh blinked, tilted his head toward her and muttered under his breath, "What a monster…"
The engine revved, the bus began its journey through the narrow city streets, past snack stalls, honking rickshaws, and the slow-moving evening crowd. The golden light of sunset brushed softly across their faces. Neither spoke much—but they didn't need to.
The week passed in waves. Exam after exam, the grind didn't seem to let up. The emotions, however, remained surprisingly consistent: Dhanush's calm confidence never cracked, Srujan maintained his signature grin—though sometimes forced—and Aanya remained quietly stressed but graceful. Vansh tried to hold it all together, pushing through the weight of it. But beneath the surface, he was fraying at the edges.
And then… there was her.
That same girl. The one who had wished him luck on the first day. She continued her pattern—appearing at just the right time, offering a soft "All the best," her eyes meeting his, unwavering and filled with something... unreadable. He never managed more than a soft reply: "All the best to you too." Short, plain. But when their eyes locked, the world dimmed slightly, as if their quiet moment belonged in a different time altogether.
She never said anything more. And he never asked.
After the fourth exam, the hallway buzzed with murmurs and dragging footsteps. Vansh stepped out of his classroom, rolling his stiff neck. The fluorescent lights flickered slightly above him.
His eyes caught sight of something odd—Aanya was standing near the water cooler, talking to that girl. The sight made Vansh pause.
The girl noticed him first and stared, almost piercingly. Aanya followed her gaze and turned to see Vansh. For a few seconds, none of them moved—just three points of a triangle caught in some silent current. The girl smiled faintly, gave a nod to Aanya, and said, "Let's talk again sometime… if ever."
She walked off like a ghost, melting into the crowded hallway.
Vansh approached Aanya, his curiosity plain. "What did she say to you?"
Aanya shrugged, offering a knowing smile. "Nothing much. Just about the exam."
There was something unspoken in her tone, but Vansh didn't press it. Instead, he replied, "How'd it go?"
Before she could answer, Dhanush and Srujan appeared in their usual dynamic—Dhanush teasing, Srujan flailing in defence.
"Your answer was completely wrong!" Dhanush barked.
"I felt it was right! That lines, you unfeeling dictionary!" Srujan shouted back.
Dhanush gave him a firm chop to the side of the head. "Knockout, idiot."
Aanya and Vansh both laughed—partly at the absurdity, partly at the comfort of routine.
Then came the final exam: Mathematics.
The classroom was filled with a hush deeper than silence. Just the sound of pencils against paper, the creak of chairs, the occasional cough. Desks were spread out perfectly, sunlight filtering in from half-closed curtains, cutting shadows across students' anxious faces.
Vansh, surprisingly, finished first.
He sat back, slowly scanning the room. Most students wore familiar expressions—panic, deep focus, surrender. His eyes landed on Aanya. She was scratching her head with the end of her pencil, her lips twisted in confusion. Then—her eyes met his.
In that moment, the connection lit up.
Aanya began making hand signs—numbers.
Vansh froze. What? What was she trying to ask? The question number? The answer?
He panicked slightly, looked around. The teacher was focused elsewhere, helping someone in the front row. Against better judgment, Vansh responded. He gave her the answer. Aanya nodded gratefully.
Then Srujan caught on.
With wide, pleading eyes and folded hands, he begged silently from a few seats away.
"Messiah," his lips mouthed.
Vansh sighed and helped him too. As he did, he noticed Dhanush glancing over—not for help, just watching. Their eyes met, and Dhanush gave a slow, disapproving shake of the head. But even he didn't say anything.
Finally, the girl—that girl—looked at Vansh. She noticed everything. Their silent communication, the signs, the answers. Her gaze then shifted to the teacher.
Vansh's heart sank. She's going to report it.
But she didn't.
Instead, she looked at him again.
To distract the teacher, Vansh dropped his water bottle noisily. It worked. The teacher turned, scolding him gently and walking over. The moment passed.
The bell rang.
"Pens down! Submit your sheets!" the teacher called.
The exam was over.
As they filed out, Vansh felt a tap on his shoulder. The girl stood behind him, still quiet.
"I wasn't going to complain," she said softly.
He blinked.
"And… have fun this vacation. See you next year."
And then she walked off, disappearing into the crowd, like a mist dissolving in light.
Aanya, Dhanush, and Srujan joined him. Srujan looked hopeful, linking his arms with Vansh.
"You're a saviour, bro. I can already feel a 40 coming my way!"
Dhanush rolled his eyes. "Stop encouraging him. He's going to start worshiping you now."
"I already do," Srujan said dramatically.
Aanya chuckled and added, "Well, you did help. I'm glad. Everything you taught came in the paper."
Dhanush gave Vansh a sideways glance. "Oh yeah? You're teaching now?"
Vansh didn't answer. He was… somewhere else. Eyes unfocused, shoulders slightly hunched, like some invisible weight settled between his neck and chest. Something about his silence—familiar, yet not—made Dhanush's smile fade a little. But he didn't ask. He knew Vansh often carried things inside.
"Anyway," Dhanush said with a stretch, "vacation plans are on. I'm going to my uncle's place for a month."
"My parents are dragging me to grandma's," Srujan moaned.
Their parents arrived shortly after, waving from the school gate.
They exchanged farewell gestures. Nothing too dramatic—just subtle nudges, small waves, and knowing smiles. There was comfort in knowing they might meet again before the next term, maybe in the park… maybe not.
Just as the last few students trickled out of the school gate, an announcement blared through the dusty old speakers near the bus parking area—static-heavy and crackling:
"Attention students, due to a mechanical issue, Bus Route 4 will be delayed. Kindly wait until further notice."
The moment of collective groaning from the waiting students blended with the fading footsteps and laughter of others already heading home. Vansh and Aanya, left standing with no urgency, shared a glance. Neither said anything at first, but both walked toward the shaded area near the school's wall where a few stone benches offered a quiet moment to breathe.
They sat side by side, the sunlight casting their shadows long and slender across the gravel. The air had a mellow, early summer warmth. Not too hot, not too cold—just still. Even the wind seemed to pause.
Aanya fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, then looked over at him. "Hey… thanks. For helping in the exam. You really saved me."
Vansh gave a small smile, his voice almost a murmur. "Don't mention it."
She noticed his shoulders seemed a little more relaxed now—less guarded than when they'd first met. After a brief pause, Vansh turned to her and asked, "So… what's the plan for your vacation?"
Aanya's eyes lit up like string lights on a winter evening. "Oh! We're going to visit the beach first, then to my cousin's place—they have a rooftop garden and rabbits! After that, maybe the waterfalls, if the rains come early."
Vansh blinked in surprise. "That sounds… like a whole adventure."
Aanya smiled, teeth showing, cheeks slightly puffed in excitement. But more than that, it was the way she noticed him leaning in—not physically, but emotionally. He was listening. Genuinely. That alone made her heart beat a little faster. she coughed up in the middle, Vansh offered some water and she drank it. gave a relief breath.
"What about you?" she asked, tilting her head.
Vansh looked away briefly, then offered a small shrug. "Nothing much, really. Probably stay at home… read some stuff. Maybe play a little."
Aanya gave a soft "Hmm," almost like a sigh, but not of disappointment. Just… quiet understanding. Then her expression started shifting slowly.
"My mom's coming to pick me up," she said as she stood. Her bag swung lightly from her shoulder. "Maybe she's already nearby."
Vansh nodded, about to say something, but Aanya turned back.
And then, before he could process the motion, she stepped close—just one step too close for it to be casual—and leaned in.
She planted a kiss on his cheek. Light, but sure. Quick, but unmistakable.
The world held its breath.
For a moment, Vansh didn't move. His mind froze. The warmth of her lips against his skin sent a rush through his nerves like a firework quietly blooming inside his chest. She pulled back with a smile—not mischievous, not flirty. Just… real. Honest.
"Bye, Vansh," she said softly, her voice carrying more meaning than all their conversations combined.
And just like that, she turned and walked away, joining her mother with the energy of a delighted child. Vansh, still stunned, didn't move until the bus horn startled him. He boarded without words, his legs moving on instinct.
Through the smudged glass of the bus window, he spotted Aanya one last time. Her mother held her hand, gently speaking to her, but Aanya's face was flushed—cheeks rosy red as she looked down, trying to hide the storm of emotions that had exploded inside her.
Then, as if she felt his gaze, she looked up.
Their eyes met.
But it wasn't just a glance.
It was a moment. A message. A long, wordless exchange stretched between two people who had no idea what this meant, but knew it meant something. His cheek was still warm. Her eyes still trembling.
Vansh raised his hand, just slightly—wanting to wave goodbye. But the bus turned, just before he could. She disappeared behind the corner, like a scene slipping away from the page.
somewhere in the future,
"Yeah... is this all I can say about it?" Vansh spoke softly, his voice almost carried away by the wind, as if narrating a memory too delicate to hold. "I never thought I'd meet someone like that. But... like the sunset, we eventually walked different paths."
The person standing before him didn't reply—only smiled, gently, knowingly. No words were needed. In that quiet moment, Vansh felt a strange sense of peace, as if that smile alone had told him everything he needed to hear.
A weight that had been pressing on his chest for days finally began to lift.
The breeze picked up, cool and steady, sweeping through the space between them. It carried away the unspoken emotions, the regrets, the lingering questions. And with it, the air—once heavy and suffocating—felt a little lighter.