The Raas was always known to have nine dancers.
Nine forms. Nine souls.
But Vrinda's diary had a last page… Aarohi never noticed before.
She found it by accident, hidden in the flap of the back cover.
The ink was faint. The writing shakier than before.
It said:
"There were ten, once."
But the tenth never danced.
Because he didn't believe he belonged.
He was meant to stand beside her. But he stood outside the circle.
I wait for him to return.
– Vrinda
Aarohi stared at the words.
Then at Ishaan.
"It was you," she whispered.
He looked confused.
"What do you mean?"
She handed him the diary.
"You were always meant to be the tenth. Not a witness. A part."
Ishaan stared at the words. His hands trembled.
"I… I don't even believe in past lives," he muttered.
"But maybe your soul does," Aarohi said.
"And maybe she always knew."
That night, they returned to Nidhivan.
The flute played again — soft, slow, calling.
Aarohi stepped into the circle.
The other trees moved like they remembered her.
But this time…
She turned around.
And held out her hand.
Ishaan hesitated.
His heart raced.
But the bansuri note changed — warmer, gentler.
Like Krishna was smiling somewhere, saying:
"Your turn."
Ishaan stepped forward.
Into the circle.
Aarohi smiled.
And the tenth shadow… joined the dance.
The next morning, Aarohi woke up beside Vrinda's diary.
One last change had happened.
A tiny tulsi leaf pressed between the final pages —
And below Vrinda's name, a new line had appeared:
"He danced."