Nothing In This World

|10| Let Me be the First

Arya

Arya settled into her seat on the bus, nestled between Ishaan and Veer, the gentle hum of the engine reverberating under her feet. It was late, and the world outside was blanketed in darkness, illuminated only by fleeting streetlights casting golden halos on their faces as the bus rumbled on. Veer had long since fallen asleep, his head lolling to the side, looking blissfully at peace. But Ishaan leaned close, his head resting softly on Arya's shoulder, both of them comfortably wrapped in the cocoon of quiet.

The journey was taking her back in more ways than one. She couldn't help but recall a similar ride just a couple of weeks ago, one where the night felt equally tender and charged, where words hung between them like confessions in the dark. The memory unfurled in her mind, vivid and achingly close.

They had been sitting on the same bus, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on her knees. She'd just learned that Ishaan wouldn't be around for her birthday this year. Her heart had sunk when he'd mentioned it offhandedly, his words casual, as if it hadn't crossed his mind that it would mean something to her. But it did. Last year, he'd been the only one who showed up, a steady presence that filled her otherwise lonely day. This year, without him, the day felt empty before it had even arrived.

She had looked over at him in the dimness, her voice barely above a whisper as she blurted out the words she hadn't intended to say.

"I miss you," she'd said, the phrase simple but loaded, her voice as soft as the night around them.

She remembered his reaction—how he'd blinked, taken aback, his eyes searching her face as if he needed to see the truth in her expression. "Really?" he'd asked, his voice soft but carrying a note of disbelief.

"Yes," she'd replied, smiling a little at his surprise. "You know... you were the only one there last year, Ishaan. And now, it just feels... I don't know, strange that you won't be around."

A small, almost shy smile had crept onto his face, one she rarely saw. "You know, you're the first person who's ever said that to me," he'd admitted. "No one's ever said 'I miss you' to me like that."

"Not even your mom?" she'd teased, trying to lighten the moment, though his words had stirred something deep within her. How could someone like Ishaan—a friend so constant, so reliably there—never have been told he was missed?

He'd rolled his eyes playfully but nodded, a thoughtful look in his gaze. "Not directly anyway. But you... it means something, Arya. Just to hear it like that."

In the present, Arya glanced down at Ishaan, his eyes half-closed, lost in some thought or memory of his own. She felt that same warmth from their conversation weeks ago, lingering between them now as if the night was somehow carrying that moment forward, knitting them together in a silent understanding.

They drifted along in companionable silence, the low hum of the bus soothing them both. Arya's mind wandered as she absently gazed out the window, streetlights blurring into soft streaks of gold. She thought about how easy it was to care about people, to feel something as simple as missing someone, yet how often those feelings went unexpressed. It saddened her, and maybe that's why she couldn't help but speak again, breaking the stillness around them.

"You know," she said softly, "I used to hug my friends a lot... just because. It was like my way of telling them I cared. I always thought that was nice."

Ishaan stirred, shifting his head slightly on her shoulder as he opened his eyes. "Yeah? Why don't you do it anymore?"

She shrugged, glancing at him. "I mean, I still do... sometimes. But things change as we grow up, I guess. It just feels a bit different now, like people aren't as open to it. But I always wondered, why don't boys hug each other? Why don't they show they care the same way?"