Reluctantly, he walked toward Karan, and the two stood in silence for a moment.
Vansh faced Karan, who was staring at him with an air of expectation. Vansh felt confused by Karan's presence and the ensuing silence. "What's this guy up to?" he wondered.
Karan shook a box, signalling for something. Seeing the box, Vansh remained puzzled. Karan shook it again.
"Is there something inside?" Vansh asked.
"Would you mind… assisting me?" Karan replied politely.
Understanding why Karan had shaken the box, Vansh took the top box from his hands, balancing its weight on his arm.
Both of them walked in silence, not exchanging a single comment.
"So, you really are gloomy and silent," Karan remarked.
"Is that how you start a conversation with a stranger?" Vansh turned to Karan, who met his gaze.
"To be precise, you're wrong. We are classmates," Karan corrected him, adjusting his glasses. The box threatened to fall out of balance, but he caught it just in time.
"Be careful not to damage it. Can you enlighten me about who assigned you this?" Vansh asked, curiosity piqued. Karan tapped his fingers against the box.
"Ms Anki," Karan tapped again. Vansh mused over the tapping.
"Well, she loves to assign unnecessary tasks."
"You say that as if you know her well. Did you know her before?" Karan inquired, intrigued.
"Know her? I haven't really gotten familiar with anyone here," Vansh admitted honestly.
"Familiar? But lately, you've made some friends," Karan pointed out as they stepped into an unfamiliar area of campus.
"Did I?" Vansh seemed absent-minded. "Yeah, I guess I did," he conceded.
Karan signalled toward an old storehouse with rusted doors. The handle looked unused. They both set their boxes down. Karan stepped forward, trying to open the door by pushing and pulling it, but it wouldn't budge.
"Why don't you try kicking it?" Vansh suggested, resting his chin on his knuckles in thought.
Karan liked the idea. He took a step back, gauged the door, and then charged at it, delivering a solid kick.
The door swung open, and Karan stumbled inside. Vansh clapped and cautiously peeked in. Karan had landed inside, one leg raised, holding an iron rod he must have grabbed while flying in.
"Everything okay?"
Karan gave a thumbs-up and tossed the rod aside. He began searching for the light switch. Vansh found it, lighting up the old room filled with cobwebs that seemed to dominate the corners. The lights flickered, and they went back outside to retrieve their boxes.
"Would you be weirded out if I asked you something?" Karan asked, eyeing Vansh, who was still focused on the boxes.
"I'm already feeling weird," Vansh replied, distracted by the old items around him.
"How do you see yourself?" Karan shot the question out while holding the iron rod silently.
"Me? Why are you interested in that?" Vansh set aside a box. "Well, judging by your words, I'd say gloomy and silent."
"Is that how you see yourself?"
"I never really looked at myself closely. It's always been a compliment I've taken on as part of my identity. If I had to add something, I'd say I'm guarded."
"Guarded?"
"You asked if I made friends lately, didn't you?" Vansh dropped the box. "Well, I have to be guarded about it. They are my friends, but I haven't fully found my place yet.
"
"So you don't trust them?" Karan tightened his grip on the rod.
"I didn't specify anyone," Vansh sighed. "But let me share something with you."
Vansh stood up, sliding a box aside and facing Karan directly.
"Trust is a reflective source of bonding," he said, clenching his fist and then slowly releasing it, letting out a controlled breath. "If you're unsure whether to trust someone, trust them enough to give them a chance; they'll show you soon enough."
"That's the principle you're running on, then?"
Vansh cleared his mind, his eyes narrowing in the dim light.
"Why are you still holding that rod?" he asked, a hint of concern creeping into his thoughts.
"Oh, this?" Karan lifted the rod. It twirled in the air, landing neatly back in his palm.
In one fluid motion, he brought it behind his back, rolled it across his forearm, then flicked it forward, pointing the tip straight at Vansh.
Vansh clapped, entertained. "Wait, were you waiting to show off to me?"
Karan laughed, and Vansh smiled back.
Suddenly, the lights went out.
The afternoon sun spilt across the rooftop, casting long shadows as the three stood in silence.
Aanya looked at Rina and Srujan, but her eyes did not see the people they had become; instead, she saw their younger selves.
"The time really went by fast," she reminisced. "I wish we could have spent more time together."
"That's where you went wrong, Aanya," Rina challenged her. "You just left right when he started gaining some confidence."
Aanya turned to face Rina, narrowing her eyes. "Do you really want to do this, Rina?" She clenched her fist near her chest. "I know what I've done; regret has always been my enemy. But I was helpless. I couldn't even give him a proper farewell."
"You played with him," Srujan interjected, his voice subdued. "You sat beside him as a benchmate, had fun, and then vanished. We were happy. I admired you for making him smile and for resolving things."
"Srujan, wait. You're wrong. I had no choice." Aanya's eyes twitched, her nostrils flaring as she looked down. "I hate the idea of how it all turned out."
"Ideas? What ideas? You returned, and he treats you like a new friend, even though you're an old friend. Teasing him and acting as if nothing happened?" Rina's words struck Aanya like arrows, igniting her frustration.
"Stop it!" Aanya managed slowly, holding one arm to her side.
"Acting like nothing has happened? Hiding behind that guilt?" Rina pressed.
"Stop it," Aanya murmured again.
"What are your plans now? Tell me." Rina turned to Srujan. "You're just as guilty here."
Srujan tried to defuse the tension, saying, "Let's calm down. We're all back together. He needs us now."
"Now?" Rina scoffed. "Are we being serious?"
"I said STOP IT!" Aanya couldn't hold back her emotions any longer. She charged at Rina, grabbing her collar. "What are we trying to claim here, huh?"
She gripped Rina's collar firmly. "I am guilty, and I know that. Every day after leaving him, I prayed to return and apologise. To make him smile again! But I couldn't."
Srujan was taken aback by the escalated situation and urged Aanya to let go of Rina.
"He needed me, but I wasn't there. I blame myself! I hate the thought of him hating me. When I found out he lost all his memories, I lost it." Aanya's tears soaked into Rina's shirt, dampening the fabric.
"I lost him! He doesn't know me anymore. He sees me as a stranger. How can I bear that?" She broke down, all her emotions spilling out. Aanya released Rina, who fell to her knees, and Srujan slowly placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Calm down, Aanya. We're all guilty here in our own way," Srujan reassured her, gently rubbing her shoulder.
Rina, still on her knees, looked up, tears in her eyes. Aanya stepped forward and hugged her tightly.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there. But here I am; let me make things right with him."
"What are you saying, Aanya?" Srujan asked, confusion evident on his face. "You could be making another mistake."
Aanya had calmed herself. "I'm not. I just want us to be here for him, for all of us."
"I'm sorry for saying all those mean things," Rina admitted sincerely. "Let's just try to rewind everything."
The three of them slowly settled down, sitting against the wall, facing the sky.
"What will you guys do? Why didn't you try to make him remember anything?" Aanya asked. "You were here before me."
"I did. On the first day I met him, but he was a complete stranger to me. I couldn't handle it. I learned everything afterwards," Srujan said, his voice quivering. "But he wasn't the same underconfident person he used to be. He was different."
"Yeah, but he still pushes people away; some things never change," Rina replied. "It's like a trademark of our Vansh."
Srujan chuckled, "Yeah, trademark— that's why he's our Vansh."
The tension eased, and the three of them shared a laugh.
Srujan turned to Rina, a serious look on his face. "But I can't forgive you, Rina."
Rina stared at him, bewildered. "What are you talking about?"
"Even after we let you, you were there the whole time, but never by his side," Srujan pointed out. "Why?"
"He was distant, pushing everyone away. He was gloomy as ever," Rina replied. "But I was still processing everything when you all suddenly left the school. His bench was empty." Aanya looked down as Rina continued, holding Aanya's hand.
"I was with him in fourth grade before the tragedy struck. He used to talk, but he spoke less then. His actions never matched his words."
"And middle school?" Aanya asked, curious. "Weren't you with him?"
"Not with him, but with others. He was assigned to a different section, so I never got a chance to connect with him again." Rina looked at both of them. "But here we are now, happy to be close again, thanks to this idiot."
Srujan smirked proudly, "Praise me more; I took the initiative."
"Are there any stories about him?" Aanya asked, intrigued. Rina nodded, and the three of them chuckled together.
The afternoon sun had dimmed; it was calm now. The breeze was cool, swaying all the threads with it.
The threads intertwined, weaving a new fabric from old silk. Memories floated along these threads, engaging in a reflective dance.
Srujan had promised to bring something, and Rina accompanied him, as she had convinced him to do so. The boys were bewildered by the situation, so she felt responsible for ensuring they didn't get the wrong impression about it.
Aanya wanted some fresh air, so she decided to stay and returned to her usual spot.
The door creaked open slowly. She clasped her hands behind her and turned to face the entrance. Her eyes narrowed as she saw him.
"You finally came back," she whispered to herself, a genuine, soft smile spreading across her face.
As their conversation unfolded, it finally led to this moment:
She grasped his wrist tightly and asked, "Tell me, Vansh! Do you still hate me?"
Vansh sighed as he felt her hands gripping his wrist. He looked into her eyes, which sparkled with something—something superficial.
"I don't know what years you're referring to, but from the day we met, I never hated you. And even later... I doubt I ever will. Unless you mess up big enough to make me regret saying that—so be careful."
Their eyes locked, and while his expression remained neutral, his words spoke volumes.
Aanya smiled, but tears streamed down her face. Those tears weren't just droplets; they carried years of emotions.
"Geez, why are you crying again?" She gently rubbed her eyes, trying to wipe away the tears.
"Vansh," she looked up at him earnestly. "Can I hug you...just for a moment?"
Vansh studied her; she wasn't teasing him this time.
"I told you earlier, misunderstanding—" he began, trying to avoid the situation.
"I'm not asking for your boring lecture," Aanya pouted, "I just need your warmth for a little while. So can I?"
Vansh couldn't hold back either; her tearful eyes tugged at his heart. He nodded in agreement but looked away shyly.
She took a step closer, her arms wide open. Those arms weren't just meant to hold a body; they were ready to embrace a whole world—a world for which she would sacrifice anything. The warmth of his body filled her with happiness.
Vansh reciprocated; one arm wrapped around her back while the other gently patted her, running through her hair.
That afternoon, the sun's warmth couldn't reach Aanya; she could only feel him. She wanted to let go of his entire life, his tragedy.
And Vansh wanted to protect those sorrowful eyes, never letting them out of his sight.