What after That?

Ch 29.

Ishan carefully tucked the chocolate into the freezer, making sure it was hidden from anyone who might stumble upon it. He didn't want to answer any curious questions about where it came from. 

After dinner, as the rest of the household retired to bed, Ishan stayed awake to finish up some remaining math problems from Chapter 6. 

His brows furrowed in concentration, the quiet ticking of the clock the only sound as he worked.

Once the last equation was solved, he stretched and glanced around to make sure no one was awake. 

Satisfied, he tiptoed towards the kitchen, careful not to make a sound. He retrieved the chocolate from the freezer and tiptoed back to his room, excitement bubbling inside him.

Sitting on his bed, with his back resting against the headboard, Ishan unwrapped the chocolate. 

He stuck his tongue out at it, as if mocking Shubman for the gesture of peace, imagining how he might have reacted if Shubman were watching him right now. The thought made him chuckle softly. Then, without further delay, he took a bite.

"Mmm... yum," he muttered, savoring the rich, creamy taste. He settled more comfortably against the pillows, allowing himself a rare moment of indulgence. 

As he enjoyed the chocolate, his thoughts drifted back to Shubman.

"Iska matlab usne Simran ko bhi sorry bol diya..." Ishan murmured, nodding in approval. "Achha hai." He took another bite, lost in thought.

"Waise bhi... shaant Shubman hume zyada bura lagta hai..." Ishan chuckled again, thinking about how odd it felt to see Shubman in a serious mood. 

Shubman's usual teasing, carefree self was so much more... fitting. The idea of him being anything else felt unnatural.

With those lingering thoughts and the taste of chocolate still on his tongue, Ishan continued nibbling, a content smile on his face as he quietly enjoyed the rest of his night.

The next morning, Ishan found himself walking to school alone. His brother couldn't drop him off today, so he was left to his own devices. 

His steps were slow, his mood matching the overcast sky above him. He was bored, lost in his own thoughts when something—or rather, someone—caught his attention.

There, a little ahead, was Shubman.

Ishan immediately tensed up, feeling the familiar mix of reluctance and curiosity bubble up inside him. 

He didn't want to see Shubman—or maybe he did, but he definitely didn't want to admit it. However, something else caught his eye, something that made him stop mid-step.

Shubman was holding a lunchbox. But it wasn't just the lunchbox that was surprising. He was handing it over to an old man, a frail-looking figure with wrinkled hands and kind, tired eyes. 

The old man's clothes were worn, and he stood by the side of the road, clearly a regular passerby whom people seldom paid attention to.

Ishan's immediate thought was sarcastic, almost annoyed. "To ab ye budhe logon ka khana bhi churata hai? Uncle to already weak lag rahe hain..." 

But as he squinted, watching the interaction unfold from a safe distance, he realized he was wrong. Very wrong.

The old man took the lunchbox with both hands, his face lighting up with gratitude. 

He offered a smile, his eyes crinkling with appreciation, and softly spoke, "Bhagwan tumhara bhala kare."

Shubman, in turn, smiled warmly, his usual playful smirk replaced with something far gentler. He nodded and said, "Kha lo, uncle." There was no teasing, no mischievous glint in his eyes. Just genuine care.