The car came to a gentle stop in front of a charming two-story house, its warm lights glowing invitingly through the windows. A small garden of lush greenery curled around the front gate—reaching out, almost like it remembered them.
As the doors opened. three boys—Aarav, Abhi, and Vihan—stepped onto the driveway.
Vihan moved sluggishly, his heavy footsteps dragging as if the day itself weighed on him.
He paused halfway to the gate and turned to glance at his brothers.
His voice came out tired, laced with reluctant hope. "Are you sure you're not coming in?"
Thud—Door opened.
Mrs. Varsha Rawat stood there—a woman of timeless beauty. Her expression, serene and maternal, radiated a grace untouched by the years.
Vihan's face lit up instantly. "Maa... I'm home."
Aarav, composed and graceful, joined his hands respectfully. "Hello! Maa," he murmured, a quiet reverence woven into every syllable.
Abhi followed with a softer, but distant and formal tone.
Her smile—divine, radiant, full of warmth—washed over them like a blessing.
"I made chicken," she said sweetly. "Why don't you two join us?"
"Chicken!... I'm going in then." Vihan grinned, dashing inside like a child returning to something precious.
Her gentle giggle followed him in.
Her eyes returned to Abhi and Aarav, her smile thinned. Something soft and sorrowful lingered beneath it.
Abhi met her gaze, silence pressing against him like a wall.
"Sorry, Maa… but you should go now. Vihan's waiting. We have to go home."
He turned without waiting for her reply, walking back to the car with shoulders heavy from the weight of things left unsaid.
Her smile crumbled.
Tears welled in her eyes as she whispered to herself, "It's been years... and he still hasn't forgiven me."
Aarav stepped forward, "Don't worry, Maa. He'll understand—once he's ready."
She cupped his cheek, a tender look overtaking her sorrow.
"You're becoming more like Aadi every year," she murmured. "Thank you… for taking care of them."
Aarav gave a small nod, then turned back to the car.
The front door clicked shut behind her.
Inside the car, the air was silent.
Aarav glanced sideways at Abhi. Worry flickered beneath his calm facade—but he knew...
Abhi didn't need comfort. Not yet.
He needed time.
[ Next day ]
The room was vast and cold, its sterile silence pressing down on everyone inside. Around a polished mahogany table sat a row of tense officials, their eyes flicking toward the head of the table—Mr. Rawat.
He sat still, sharp eyes burning with stormy restraint, locked on the empty chair across from him. His jaw tightened with every breath, as if counting down to something inevitable.
The silence shattered as Mr. Singh entered.
Composed. Commanding.
He walked to the seat across from Mr. Rawat and sat. Their gazes clashed—intense, unreadable. A flicker of something behind their calm.
Mr. Raj followed in silently, standing behind him like a silent pillar.
Then the door opened again.
Arun stood in the doorway, a file in his hand and hesitation in his posture. He didn't enter—just lingered, uncertain, like a shadow unsure of its place.
Mr. Raj noticed and quietly stepped out after him.
In the hallway, Arun handed over the file without a word.
"I'll handle Master," Mr. Raj said gently. "You should go. Ayan is alone."
Arun hesitated, fingers twitching at the absence of the file. Then he nodded, turned, and vanished down the corridor.
...
[ In a Parking lot ]
In the dim silence of the parking lot, Arun moved with quiet purpose between rows of parked cars.
Suddenly—
A hand shot out from behind a pillar, soft but surprisingly strong, grabbing his wrist and pulling him sideways.
Startled, Arun spun, fist clenched instinctively— about to punch.
But it froze mid-air.
Abhi stood before him, hand raised in surrender, a playful grin tugging at his lips. Eyes flickering between the punch and Arun's eyes.
"Were you really about to punch me, Young Master?" Abhi teased, head tilting dramatically.
Arun relaxed slightly, lowering his arm, though his tone remained firm.
"What are you playing at now?"
Abhi let go and slipped a hand into his pocket.
"We don't even have each other's numbers." He held out his phone. "Here. So you'll be there… when I need you."
Arun arched a brow, skeptical. "It's locked."
Abhi leaned in, eyes gleaming, glanced at the screen. "Oh, it's my birthday… 22…"
Arun scoffed softly. "Stupid."
He typed the password with ease and saved his contact, then handed it back.
Abhi stared with surprise. "Wait—how did you know my birthday?"
Arun didn't answer. His face shut down, unreadable. Like hiding something.
"Don't contact me unless it's important."
And with that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the distance. Leaving Abhi rooted in place, a little stunned. A little breathless.
...
Inside the car, Ayan sat quietly, scrolling through his phone. The soft hum of the engine filled the silence.
A gentle tap on the window startled him.
He looked up—Aarav stood there, a warm, affectionate smile lighting his face.
Ayan blinked in surprise, rolling down the window.
"Senior...? What are you doing here?"
Aarav leaned against the car with effortless ease.
"Came along with my father for a meeting. You?"
Ayan's lips curled into a gentle smile as he responded, "Brother Arun and I came to hand over Papa a file ."
Aarav nodded slowly.
A pause passed between them.
Then, Aarav took out his phone and offered it, hesitation flicker in his expressions. "Ayan... If you're okay with it... can we share contacts?"
Ayan looked at him, eyes soft, lips parting in a small smile. His eyes almost hypnotized as he looked at Aarav.. He took the phone without hesitation.
He typed quickly, nervously, sharing his socials platforms too.
"Here, Senior," he whispered.
He handed the phone back to Aarav.
Aarav, noticing the nervous tremor in his hand, leaned in slightly, his presence steady and reassuring. With a gentle smile that softened the moment, he held his phone, his fingers brushing lightly against Ayan's.
Their heart thudded.
"I'm feeling the same ." Arun whispered.
Their gaze mingled. Aarav slowly closes the distance between them his eyes dropping to Ayan's lips.
Ayan sensed Aarav's warm breath coming too close his heart pounded loudly. But he didn't refused either. As if he was asking for it.
Their lips just an inch apart. About to meet, but the coming footsteps intrupted the heat.
Aarav pulled himself back.
...
Arun returned to the car, his eyes fixed on the phone held loosely in his hand.
He slipped into the driver's seat.
Ayan was already settled in the passenger seat, his arms wrapped tightly around his bag. A soft, loving blush tinged his cheeks, and his deep breaths, coupled with the faint rhythm of his heartbeat.
A moment passed.
Then, Ayan turned. "Brother, did you hand the file to Papa ?"
Arun, still gazing at his arm with lost mind, looked up with a soft smile, "Yes... Let's go."
Ayan nodded softly, a playful glint in his eyes as he pointed at Arun. "Your expressions don't look familiar, Brother ."
Arun just placed the phone down with a soft clink. And answered, "Nothing."
Then, the car started. Arun's face remained unreadable, an unreal severity etched into his features.
...
Outside, Abhi Still Stood Alone
His brows furrowed. Something about that moment hadn't settled. His mind churned with questions. "He knew my birthday?"
Then—
Aarav appeared beside him, calm yet unsatisfied.
Without turning to look, Abhi addressed him absentmindedly, "Done, Brother?"
Aarav brought the phone up to Abhi's face, a playful glint in his eyes as he showed Ayan's contact on the screen.
"Thanks to my dearest brother..."
He gently reached out and ruffled Abhi's hair with a soft look over his face.
Abhi let out a soft whine, "Brother, I'm not a kid anymore..."
Aarav's lips curled into an admiring smile as he looked at Abhi.
[ At Junior wing ]
The corridor lay in golden stillness, bathed in soft afternoon light. Even the wind outside seemed to hold its breath.
Abhi stood near the back door of his classroom, shadows dancing across his expression.
The door behind him creaked open.
Vihan peeked out, finger to his lips. Wordlessly, he beckoned Abhi inside.
Abhi nodded and slipped inside, his steps silent as breath.
They made their way to the back row. Abhi eased into the seat beside Vihan like a whisper settling into the room. His eyes drifted toward the front row, where Ayan sat immersed in the lesson, his posture upright, his concentration absolute.
A whisper broke the hush.
"Why did you ask me to join class today?" Vihan leaned closer.
Abhi folded his arms atop the desk and lowered his head onto them, his gaze steady and sharp as it met Vihan's. A teasing smile played at the corners of his lips.
"It's good for your academics… And," he added, voice lazy and low, "wake me up when classes are over."
Then he closed his eyes, surrendering to sleep as if nothing else in the world mattered.
Vihan rolled his eyes dramatically, slumping further into his seat, as he muttered under his breath.
"Good? I'm already dying in here."
[ Afternoon ]
The classroom had long emptied, the once-buzzing energy now replaced by a blanket of calm. Abhi still lay sleeping, his head resting peacefully on his folded arms, his expression softened by slumber.
A gentle hand touched his shoulder.
"How long are you going to sleep?"
Abhi stirred. His brows knit slightly before his eyes fluttered open, slow and dazed. He rubbed at them, much like a sleepy puppy trying to find his place in the waking world.
"Ayan?" he asked, voice rough and laced with sleep.
A blink. Then recognition bloomed.
"But... I told Vihan to wake me up…"
He turned—and saw Vihan, fast asleep beside him, sprawled like a baby sloth over an open book.
Abhi's expression flattened. He gave Vihan a quick, firm tap on the head. The soft thump echoed faintly in the quiet room.
Vihan jolted upright, eyes wide in panic. "I'm just here for some advice for exams, Sir!" he blurted out, clearly disoriented.
Ayan and Arun, standing nearby, burst into laughter. The sound was bright, unfiltered, echoing through the empty classroom like a shared secret.
Vihan blinked rapidly, scanning the room. Realizing they were the only ones left, he slumped back into his chair, exhaling deeply.
Abhi scowled playfully. "I told you to wake me up."
Vihan scratched the back of his neck, his guilt melting into a humble grin. "Oh, sorry…"
Just then, Ayan's phone buzzed, breaking the warm moment.
He answered quickly, his tone shifting to alertness. "Hello! Brother, I'm coming."
There was a pause on the other end—Arun's voice.
Ayan's eyes flicked toward Abhi.
"Oh… Abhi? Okay." His voice softened, a bit more curious now.
He hung up, his thoughts briefly elsewhere, while Abhi simply watched—silent, unreadable.