"How was it working with Yash Vaidya?! He's like the country's heartthrob!"

  A girl jumped with joy, eyes sparkling with envy and excitement.

  "Did you both really communicate after that magical scene?"

  Another one opened her notebook like a journalist, her pen ready to note every single word down.

  And in the middle of all of this— stood a girl who was the center of attention.

  Her smile was picture-perfect.

  The posture, effortlessly poised like a trained model— despite being a student.

  "Uh… he was a really wonderful man," she said with a sweet and soothing voice.

  "But now, I'll have to… hurry up for piano class."

  "Oh! Even her hobbies are graceful!"

  The group of girls moved aside, parting like a royal escort, making way for her exit.

  But the moment the girl turned and was out of their sight— her expressions dropped like a mask falling off.

  Disgust. Irritation. Exhaustion.

  She hated the attention.

  All of it.

  She stepped out of the building, with all the noise in the hallway slowly fading away.

  The cold breeze gently kissed her face, lifting off a few strands of her silky black long hair.

  She could finally let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

  She leaned against the iron railing and relaxed her whole body.

  Long lashes. Soft, unbothered lips. Skin that seemed to be admired by the sun itself.

  But her eyes— sharp, intelligent, enchanting— told a whole new story.

  Her waist narrowed with quiet symmetry, giving way for the long legs to move with fluid elegance.

  From a distance, she appeared to be a serene silhouette. Her collarbones were visible beneath her smooth skin.

  She didn't flaunt anything— she just had it.

  Kritika Tyagi.

  Everyone heard of her.

  But no one really knew her.

  She looked at the bleeding orange sky while she tried to find a way out of the world she never wished to be in.

  And then—

  A movement.

  Her eyes caught it in an instant.

  A boy spun effortlessly. His foot whipped through the air with shocking precision.

  The back kick landed clearly on a bully— Vijay Chauhan— sending him down for good.

  Kritika's breath caught.

  Yug Verma… just became a monster.

  She couldn't move. Her eyes refused to blink.

  But instead of looking at Yug again, her eyes shifted to the one right behind him.

  The boy who was handling the fight from the shadows, perfectly pointing out weak spots.

  Rishabh Tiwari.

  Still. Silent. Gathering his breath.

  Kritika's heart skipped a beat.

  Her fingers gripped the iron railing tighter.

  "So this… is what they were hiding?"

  ——————————————

  One month later, the bandages peeled off slowly , its fabric stained with yellow and old medicine.

  Yug winced a little as he scraped off the final wrap from his wrist.

  The plaster of his right foot was already lying on the floor.

  His bruises had turned pale.

  Faint scars ran across like battle scars.

  He looked down at his arms— not strong, but also not the same.

  The paint on the walls of his room was chipped.

  The floor was just cold concrete.

  In a corner, an old steel shelf held his clothes and his books.

  Yug dropped on the floor with his palms down and back straightened.

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  He was still for a moment, gathering courage.

  He didn't know if he could— but he had to.

  He began to do push ups.

  One, his hands were steady.

  Two, his jaw clenched.

  Three, his chest tightened.

  But he still went on.

  Four. Five. Six.

  His body threatened to fall down.

  Seven. Eight. Nine.

  And finally— he did it.

  Ten.

  He dropped on the floor with a loud thud.

  His chest fell and rose with victory.

  He didn't need any applause.

  It was already a win for Yug.

  —————————————

  Yug's mother, Asha Verma, stood beside the doorway, a tattered shawl around her thin frame.

  Her coughs were more frequent than before, but she still kept on smiling.

  "Yug, eat before you leave."

  She softly said, as Yug walked out of his room. She held a steel plate with a bowl of lentils and rice on it.

  There were no complaints.

  Yug ate it like it was his last meal— because he didn't know when the next good one would be.

  He sat cross-legged on a mat, under the sun.

  His mother stood there even when she didn't have the strength to do anything.

  "Is this good?" she asked innocently.

  Yug just smiled at her.

  "Tastes better than heaven."

  She chuckled, and as Yug stood up, wiped away dust from his uniform.

  And as Yug was about to grab his bag and move out for school, his mother stopped him.

  "Yug?"

  "All good, mom?"

  "Do you know what the 30th of July is?"

  Yug scratched his head with complete cluelessness.

  "Just a boring Wednesday?"

  Asha had a warm smile with teary eyes.

  "It is the day I got a kid who thinks food without salt is better than heaven."

  Yug blinked. Once. Twice.

  And finally it hit him like a delayed punch.

  Asha brought out a small cake— badly decorated, lopsided but with pure love.

  "You're sixteen today, my son."

  Yug stared at the cake.

  A flood of emotions rushed through him— gratitude, guilt, warmth, longing— all wrapped in the little chocolate cake from the local 'Bittu's Bakery' across the street.

  Yug knelt beside his mother, took the knife and smiled as wide as he could— all real.

  He blew the candle, placing the first piece in Asha's mouth.

  "Happy birthday, son."

  Asha whispered and giggled like a child.

  "I can't be late on my big day!"

  He said softly, gently tapping her cheek.

  Yug slung the bag over his shoulder, the last piece of cake in one hand, waving goodbye with another.

  He wasn't the strongest— nor was he the weakest one anymore.

  He didn't have any memory of his awakening.

  But the world remembered it crystal clear.

  The sun didn't just touch him, it acknowledged his growth

  Yug quietly walked off into the sunlight.

  —————————————

  The sunlight followed Yug all the way to the school gate.

  But inside, the light faded.

  And the voices took over.

  "Didn't he defeat Vijay in that fight?"

  "He gained some muscle… just saying."

  "I heard it's his birthday today."

  "He looks pretty good with plasters off."

  Students began acknowledging him, hovering around like silent observers.

  Yug could hear all of these, but he didn't stop.

  His steps were steady— with his head higher.

  He finally reached his class.

  11-A

  Everyone was engaged in something or the other in the class.

  Vijay had taken a leave for two months the next day of the fight— he'd be back in a month now.

  "Good morning, sir."

  Yug greeted the teacher, and turned his head to search for Rishabh at his place.

  But all he found was an empty bench.

  Rishabh was never late for school than Yug.

  Yug scanned the class— and then he saw it.

  The bench near the window, on the other end.

  Tarun and Rishabh were sitting together.

  Laughing about something. Rishabh had a book in his hand, Tarun was snacking at something.

  Their body language was relaxed, like they were the best of friends.

  Neither of them looked at Yug.

  Not even once.

  Yug was still for a while, caught in a moment that felt colder than anything.

  The only two friends he had— on the day he was born— were just some strangers.

  But Yug took his seat.

  Without a word.

  Just a deep sigh.

  —————————————

  But there was a thunderstorm between the two boys themselves.

  Tarun, unbothered, was munching on chips like it was a casual Sunday.

  Rishabh held a book on 'Darwin's Theory Of Evolution' but a page hadn't been turned in 5 minutes.

  "Did you think he noticed?"

  Tarun asked loud enough for the next two students to hear.

  "Noticed? You eat louder than a rocket launch! And seriously, how do you still have abs?"

  "I'll teach you later. But do you think he noticed my Oscar-worthy act of ignoring him?"

  "He's Yug. He thinks we hate him even after the shittiest acting ever."

  "I hope this doesn't ruin the surprise."

  "It'll be even more crazy."

  "Anyway, you asked me to book the cake, right?"

  Tarun cracked open his fifth packet of the day.

  "Wait… you didn't forget—"

  "You doubt me?! Chocolate truffle. With whipped cream on top."

  "What about the writing?"

  Rishabh leaned in, like it was the biggest secret.

  " Wasn't 'To The Biggest Loser We Know' the thing?"

  Tarun smirked like a certified goon.

  "He's gonna kill us for that."

  "Let him try. It's his day."

  "And I'll kill you if he gets to know the surprise."

  "He'll have no idea."

  Tarun glanced at Yug— only to find him watching them quietly, with a flicker of fear.

  Like he was already convinced he didn't belong with them.

  —————————————

  The sun wasn't kind during the afternoon.

  Yug's shirt was sticking to his body— he was exhausted after three laps of the school field.

  But there was something else also felt off in that day's P.E. class.

  Rishabh was there too, but he was still reading his book instead of any physical activity.

  Every time Yug passed by, Rishabh followed him, like a secret agent in disguise.

  He looked at Tarun next, who was doing pull ups with one hand along with weights on.

  Rishabh tapped the bench beside him twice— a signal for progress in the plan.

  He was surprisingly unnoticed.

  Tarun was too focused on his pull ups.

  Rishabh now hit the bench harder, grabbing not only Tarun's, but also Yug's attention.

  Across the field, Tarun fell from the bar— a really bad acting.

  "AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!"

  Tarun screamed at the top of his lungs, with everyone looking at him.

  "What happened, Tarun?"

  The P.E. teacher asked from the other corner.

  "I broke my arm!"

  "But didn't you fall down?"

  "Did I say arms? I meant my legs!!"

  Rishabh slammed his face to the book in his hand, all hope abandoned.

  Tarun, on the other hand, ran towards the teacher to ask for permission to rest.

  "How're you running, kid?"

  "Just understand the feelings!"

  "Fine. You can go."

  "Thank you. You're my favourite!"

  Tarun planted a dramatic kiss on the teacher's forehead in excitement and ran outside with his 'broken' legs.

  "My spine! My pancreas! My elbow!"

  As soon as he went out, he sprinted towards the bakery to get the cake.

  Yug raised an eyebrow.

  The fall didn't look right.

  But he shook the thought and kept on running.

  —————————————

  Hours later, when all the students emptied the class, chaos erupted at Yug's bench.

  His bag was lost, and no one knew about it.

  He stood frozen, looking around— no prankster in sight anywhere.

  "Not again…"

  His eyes searched for any clues, and he found it.

  A pen on the ground.

  His pen— the one with tape holding it together.

  He picked it up with a frown.

  But then—

  He saw his ID card.

  He picked it up again.

  And one by one, he found things from his back— books, worksheets, stationery— all leading him to the staircase.

  And as he stepped into the roof lit by the golden sunset, he found Rishabh crouching behind a crate, giggling.

  "You took too long, detective."

  A cheap blue and white banner hung lopsided across two poles at the roof.

  "Happy Day Birth"

  The tape on one side was about to give up.

  Below it, a small table made up of two stacked desks was lying empty.

  A few ribbons were torn and stuck to the wall with chewing gum.

  There were cut outs of many motivational quotes all around— definitely Tarun's work.

  Yug took a step forward, and grinned more than what Rishabh did.

  "Not bad, detective Rishabh, but the plan was too obvious."

  "What? It was genius!"

  Rishabh stood up in shock— he didn't expect Yug to understand the perfect plan he had.

  "You were good, Rishabh. It's the mighty Tarun."

  Rishabh knew that his alliance would have some problems.

  Disappointment took all over him. But—

  Yug pulled him in without a word. That hug said more than any words could.

  "Thank you, both of you."

  Rishabh's face also curled into a smile.

  But the main surprise was still not here.

  The rooftop door barged open— a hinge fell off.

  Tarun Singh was back!

  He had a box with cake in it.

  "He knew it, Tarun." Rishabh announced.

  "I told you to make your act better!"

  Tarun looked clueless, acting like an omniscient.

  Everyone relaxed, because the celebration had to begin with happiness.

  Tarun proudly placed the box on the table like it was pure gold, handing over the bill to Rishabh.

  Rishabh was at the center, with his friends jumping with euphoria.

  But when Rishabh glanced at the bill, his eyes widened and expressions changed.

  "Oh shi—"

  Yug opened the box— but what they saw blew their minds away.

  There was no trace of chocolate truffle cake.

  Just… yellow.

  There was no chocolate, but rings of pineapple.

  "It's… not the cake." Rishabh spoke in horror.

  The box had pineapple pizza in it!

  Rishabh was on the verge of abandoning his friendship with Tarun.

  Tarun's mouth was wide open with shock.

  But Yug laughed amidst all of this— their friends fumbled, but he was proud of them.

  Tarun quickly calmed down, shrugging.

  "Protein, carbs and fruits. It's basically the best meal for the party."

  "PINEAPPLE PIZZA IS THE WORST!"

  Both Yug and Rishabh shouted— in perfect sync, like their friendship was forged on hate for pineapple pizza.