Saturday Night — Saharsh's Room
Saharsh didn't think twice.
He grabbed his phone, hit call, and the moment Deepak picked up, he said, "I'm coming over for a sleepover."
Before Deepak could respond, the line went dead.
"...Hello?" Deepak stared at his phone.
Then muttered under his breath, "Ya sure, just cut the call after saying whatever you want, huh? Idiot."
He tossed the phone on his bed and folded his arms. "Something is definitely going on. Sleepover out of nowhere? Weird timing every Sunday? Huh…"
He narrowed his eyes toward the wall.
"I'm digging deeper tonight. Something fishy's up, and I'm gonna find out what."
Saharsh's Desk — Minutes Before Leaving
Before leaving his room, Saharsh scribbled his first note and placed it neatly under his desk lamp — exactly where she always looked.
Note 1: If You're Reading This in My Room
"Hey Rakshita,
If you're reading this, it means the swap worked like usual — and you've landed in my room.
But I'm not here today. I'm crashing at Deepak's place to test a theory.
Now listen carefully — I've left my phone with me at Deepak's.
So if you want to see some pictures of me (sorry, not all of them are charming — you've been warned), check the album called Camera on my phone.
If you're still curious or just want to yell at me in person — Deepak's place isn't far. You can head there... or wait here. Up to you.
Just... don't burn my house down. Even if you're mad."
He folded the note and patted it gently, then got up and stuffed his hoodie with the second note — this one different.
Note 2: Inside Saharsh's Hoodie (for Deepak's Room)
If You're Reading This in Deepak's Room
"Hey.
So... you're here. In his room. Not mine.
That means the swap isn't tied to just our rooms anymore — it's tied to us.
Wherever I go... you land nearby. That's kinda insane. Kinda cool. Mostly terrifying.
Don't worry. I explained things to Deepak. Sort of. Enough to not panic. Or call the cops.
My phone is with you now. Check the album in the gallery — it's just the default Camera folder. You'll find some pics of me there. The real me. Not the doodles. Not the jokes. Just... Saharsh.
If this feels too weird, you can totally head back to my room. Or just wait — Deepak has the stealth skills of a lost puppy, so I bet he'll wander in pretending to 'accidentally' find you.
Either way... you're safe.
And yeah, we're clearly more than just room-swappers now."
Saturday Night — Rakshita's Room
Rakshita stared at her ceiling, arms folded behind her head, heart thudding with a strange mix of dread and anticipation.
This wasn't just another Sunday coming up.
Saharsh had proposed the idea: what if they didn't sleep in their own rooms?
Would the swap still happen?
She didn't like the idea of breaking the pattern — but more than that, she didn't like the idea of not knowing. So tonight, she was following through. His experiment. Their experiment.
She picked up her phone and called the one person who wouldn't ask too many questions.
"Hello?" Anaya answered, already sounding dramatic.
"Sleepover," Rakshita said flatly.
A pause.
"Oh no. What happened now? Don't tell me the guy finally replied and said 'k'. Or worse — sent a voice note."
Rakshita exhaled a laugh. "No. I just... need company. Tonight."
Another pause. This one softer.
"Okay," Anaya replied. "You bring emotional damage snacks. I'll bring judgment."
Rakshita smiled faintly. "Deal."
She threw a few things into her backpack — sketchbook, charger, water bottle, a few of her favorite instant noodles… and, of course, Saharsh's hoodie.
Then, on impulse, she paused and grabbed two sticky notes.
She clicked her pen open and started writing the first.
Note 1: Left on Her Desk (for Saharsh, if he lands in her room)
"If you're in my room and I'm not here…"
"Then it means the swap happened like usual — and I guess the theory didn't work.
Tonight, I'm staying at Anaya's. As you instructed — for the experiment.
Testing whether the swap follows us instead of just our rooms.
I was nervous about trying it. Still am. But I trust you more than I trust logic right now.
Also — my phone is with me at Anaya's. I know you probably won't go hunting for it, but I wanted to tell you something anyway:
There are pictures of me in the gallery. Not taken for you, not fancy, just... real.
Maybe one day I'll show you face to face. But until then, they're yours —
P.S. There's gulab jamun in the fridge. Don't finish it. Okay, fine. You can."
Note 2: Folded and Tucked into Hoodie Pocket (for Anaya's Room)
"If you're reading this at Anaya's…"
"The swap isn't about rooms. It's about us.
I followed your lead. I'm here because you said we should try this. And if you're here too...
it means you followed me instead of the walls.
And yeah — this is Anaya's room. She already thinks you're my boyfriend, so no pressure or anything.
Just try not to burn her kitchen, and if she teases you... well, don't say I didn't warn you.
My phone's with me. Go to the gallery — I saved a few photos there. Not perfect, not planned.
Just... me.
If we're going to keep showing up in each other's lives — I want you to know who I really am.
P.S. Don't ask for food. There's literally nothing here.
You might have to cook for both of us next time."
Deepak's Room — Late Night
The moment Saharsh stepped in, Deepak was waiting — arms folded, eyes squinting like he was auditioning for a detective film.
"You okay?" Deepak asked casually, pretending not to be too curious.
"Yep," Saharsh muttered, pulling off his hoodie and plopping onto the beanbag like it owed him rent. "Just felt like... not being alone tonight."
Deepak raised an eyebrow. "Sure. Totally normal. Sleepovers at 11:30 PM on Saturdays. Classic bro behavior."
Saharsh rubbed his forehead. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"
Deepak shook his head, slowly. "Nope."
There was a long pause. The kind that usually came before secrets spilled or tears fell.
Finally, Saharsh let out a sigh sharp enough to cut through the room's tension. "Okay, fine. But I swear, this isn't some prank or sci-fi fanfic."
"Here it is. The universe's most complicated maybe-love story—"
Anaya's Room — Similar Time
Anaya was inspecting her collection of face masks and judging which one looked the most emotionally supportive when Rakshita walked in, unusually quiet.
"Okay," Anaya said without turning. "Did he ghost you, or did you ghost him?"
"No ghosting," Rakshita replied, setting her bag down. "But I do need to tell you something. And it's... weird."
Anaya turned, head tilted. "How weird?"
"Universe-shifting weird."
"Here it is. The universe's most complicated maybe-love story—"