Aarohi tried to keep her focus on the teacher's voice, but her mind refused to sit still.
Something felt wrong.
Something in the air pricked her skin—cold, sharp, familiar.
She gripped her pencil tightly to steady herself.
Her classmates chattered, laughed, scribbled, tapped…
Everything felt normal around her.
So why didn't she feel normal?
Why did she feel watched?
A soft breeze slipped through the cracked classroom window, brushing her cheek gently. She turned, expecting to see nothing but the school playground.
But her breath hitched.
A tall figure stood near the far gate—still, unmoving, half-hidden by trees.
Black hoodie.
Head lowered.
Hands in pockets.
She blinked once, twice.
Gone.
Her heart pounded painfully.
Was someone from her past life following her?
Was it only her imagination?
Was her trauma rewriting shadows into threats?
The teacher's gentle voice broke through her fear.
"Aarohi? Sweetheart, are you alright?"
Dozens of little eyes turned toward her.
Aarohi forced a nod. "Y-Yes, ma'am."
She lowered her head, breathing slowly, silently.
Her fingers trembled so hard the pencil nearly slipped.
In her first life, she always felt watched—
whispered about in teachers' rooms,
talked behind her back,
followed by judgmental eyes everywhere she went.
Was this the past returning?
Or a fear too old to bury?
---
When recess came, children rushed toward the playground with excited screams. Aarohi stood slowly, her legs stiff.
Her friend from the morning—Mia, the ponytail girl—grabbed her hand. "Come! We'll show you our secret place!"
Aarohi hesitated.
Touch.
Warmth.
Friendship.
Those things scared her more than shadows did.
But Mia's smile was too bright. Too innocent.
Aarohi followed.
Mia and two other girls guided her behind the school garden, where a huge banyan tree stood with low, thick branches. Under it lay small stones painted with cartoon faces.
"We made these last year," Mia said proudly. "This one is you."
She pointed to a little blue stone with two uneven eyes and a crooked smile.
Aarohi stared.
Someone had painted her.
Someone had thought of her.
Someone had remembered her.
Aarohi's chest tightened with a warmth so fragile she almost cried.
"We saved it," Mia whispered. "Because you got hurt and… we didn't want anyone else to take it."
Aarohi bit her lip. Hard.
Her heart was splitting open—
not from pain,
but from a love she didn't know how to receive.
"Thank you," she whispered, eyes burning.
Mia flung her tiny arms around Aarohi again.
The hug was sudden. Soft. Warm.
Aarohi froze.
Her own arms hovered awkwardly for a moment before she slowly—very slowly—wrapped them around the girl.
Her past life felt millions of miles away in that moment.
And yet…
A shiver crawled down her spine again.
She turned her head.
The far gate.
The trees.
The shadows.
Empty.
But the uneasy feeling only grew.
---
After school, Arin waited at the gate for her, waving wildly.
"Aarohi! Here!"
His voice alone grounded her.
He grabbed her backpack playfully. "So? How was the first day back? Did anyone mess with you? Should I beat them up?"
Aarohi blinked. "No one… hurt me."
Arin gave her an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Good. If anyone does, tell me. I'll make sure they regret it."
Aarohi shook her head softly. She wasn't used to protection.
In her first life, nobody stood for her.
Nobody cared enough to.
"Arin…" she whispered, "thank you."
He stopped walking.
Turned to her.
And gently flicked her forehead. "Idiot. You don't need to thank your brother."
She looked down, hiding a small smile.
He saw it.
His expression softened.
"You smiled," he whispered, as if witnessing something rare and precious.
Aarohi touched her lips self-consciously. "I… I didn't mean to."
Arin nudged her shoulder. "Mean it next time."
They walked toward the exit.
But as they reached the corner of the street, Aarohi suddenly froze in place.
Her body locked.
Her breath stopped.
Her eyes widened.
Someone stood across the road.
Same black hoodie.
Same posture.
Same stillness.
Not close.
Not far.
Just near enough to be real.
Arin noticed her stop. "Aarohi? What—"
But by the time he turned, the figure had already moved away.
Almost melting into the crowd.
Aarohi couldn't speak.
Arin placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. I'm right here."
She swallowed hard.
She didn't know if the person was real…
or a ghost from her old life.
A memory.
A fear.
A threat.
A warning.
But she did know one thing:
Her past had found her.
Or was about to.
And for the first time since reincarnation, the warmth of this world wasn't enough to silence the cold truth inside her bones—
The shadows she escaped were coming back.
---