The house was quiet.
Not the peaceful kind.
The kind that came from things that couldn't be fixed.
Tanu placed her bag down near the door and stepped inside.
The room was small, barely enough space for two people to move comfortably. A thin curtain separated the kitchen from the main area. The walls carried marks of time—faded patches, small cracks—but everything was clean.
Carefully maintained.
Her mother lay on the bed near the window.
Awake.
"You're back early," she said.
Tanu nodded, forcing a small smile.
"Half day."
It wasn't entirely a lie.
She had left early.
"How was school?"
"Normal."
That word again.
Normal.
Tanu moved closer, adjusting the pillow slightly behind her mother's back.
"Did you take your medicine?"
"Yes."
A pause.
"You didn't have to come early," her mother said softly. "I can manage."
Tanu shook her head.
"I know."
But she stayed anyway.
Narrator :
"Some responsibilities aren't forced.
They're chosen.
Her father had died years ago.
An army man.
The kind people respected.
The kind people forgot.
And after the accident—
her mother never walked again.
Life didn't stop.
It just… changed."
By evening—
Tanu stood behind the counter of a small café.
The place wasn't fancy.
A few tables. Soft lights. A quiet playlist running in the background.
But it was enough.
"Table three," the owner called out.
"Coming."
Tanu picked up the tray, moving quickly but carefully. She had learned how to balance things—literally and otherwise.
A customer smiled.
"Thanks."
She nodded.
Simple.
Professional.
No one here knew her as a student.
No one asked.
And that made it easier.
Back at school—
things were… less serious.
Kabir leaned back in his chair, stretching.
"I swear, this class would collapse without me."
"Please test that theory," Vijay replied.
Before Kabir could respond—
laughter echoed from the side.
The trio.
Misha crossed her arms, looking at Kabir with clear amusement.
"You're very confident for someone with no achievements."
Rhea added, "Confidence is attractive… but only when it's justified."
Kavya tilted her head slightly. "What exactly do you bring to the table?"
Kabir blinked once.
Then leaned forward.
"I make people laugh," he said calmly.
A pause.
"Not intentionally," Misha replied.
A few nearby students chuckled.
Kabir nodded slowly.
"Fair."
Then—
"Still better than trying too hard and failing."
That landed.
Rhea raised a brow.
"Excuse me?"
Kabir smiled.
"You heard me."
Misha laughed lightly, shaking her head.
"You're irritating."
"Consistently," Kabir replied.
Kavya sighed dramatically. "He's never getting a girlfriend."
"Not from you, at least," Kabir shot back.
The trio exchanged looks—
then walked away, still smiling.
"Disaster avoided," Kabir muttered.
Vijay shook his head slightly.
"You enjoy this too much."
"Of course I do."
By the end of the day—
something felt different.
Not tense.
Not strange.
Just… lighter.
Because—
"They're back."
Dev walked into the school gate like he owned it.
Dev Malhotra
"Missed me?" he announced loudly.
"Not even a little," Kabir replied instantly.
Dev ignored that.
"You've gotten weaker," he said, looking at Kabir's arm.
Kabir blinked.
"What?"
"You didn't train, did you?" Dev continued. "I can tell."
"Are you serious right now?"
Dev flexed his arm slightly.
"Look at this."
Kabir stared at him.
"…Are you shameless?"
Dev frowned.
"Are you a freaking girl?"
Silence.
Then—
The group burst out laughing.
Even Vijay couldn't stop it this time.
Ayaan stood nearby, shaking his head.
Ayaan Sheikh
"You two haven't changed at all," he said calmly.
"Unlike you," Kabir replied. "Still cooking?"
Ayaan gave a small nod.
"Better than before."
"Good," Dev added. "We need food."
"You always need food."
They gathered at a small hotel after school.
Nothing fancy.
Just familiar.
Plates arrived.
Conversations overlapped.
Dev talked the most.
About gym.
About routines.
About "discipline."
Kabir interrupted every two minutes.
Ayaan listened more than he spoke.
But when he did—
people paid attention.
Vijay sat among them.
Not silent.
Not distant.
Just… present.
And for the first time in a while—
He felt it.
Something simple.
Something normal.
Belonging.
Outside—
the city moved as it always did.
Inside—
laughter filled the table.
And for that moment—
Nothing felt complicated.