ℂ𝕆ℂ𝕂𝕋𝔸𝕀𝕃𝕊 𝕎𝕀𝕋ℍ ℂ𝕌ℙ𝕀𝔻

𝟳𝟰: 𝗦𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗠𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝘆

>>>>–––– 💘 ––––<<<<

Dinner was a quiet affair that evening—too quiet for a house that was usually filled with Ananya's half-sarcastic banter with Shakthi's loud and exaggerated comebacks, Mithra giggling at them, and the occasional scolding from Avi. The chairs were all occupied, the table was full of food, but the energy? Strangely absent.

Ananya sat with a distant look in her eyes, one elbow resting on the table as she lazily ran a butter knife across a slice of bread. She wasn’t paying attention to the conversation—if there even was one. Her hand moved on autopilot, spreading the butter with careful, almost obsessive slowness. The food on the table didn’t even seem to exist to her.

Mithra, seated beside her, paused mid-bite and turned toward her.

Sapadla?

(You’re not eating?)

Ananya looked up, blinking as if pulled from a distant thought. Then she smiled politely, soft and hollow.

Illa, mood illa

(No, not in the mood)

she said gently. Not cold. Just tired.

Without another word, she folded the bread in half, took a small bite, and quietly stood up. She didn’t make eye contact with anyone. Her plate remained untouched. Her footsteps were soft as she walked out of the dining area and disappeared into the hallway.

Avi watched her go, his hand frozen mid-motion with a spoon full of rice. His eyes lingered for a few seconds after she turned the corner.

She’s been like that since you all came back

Mithra murmured beside him, voice low.

He didn’t respond. He just nodded once, almost imperceptibly, and put the spoon down without taking a bite.

On the opposite side of the table, Shakthi was eating like he hadn’t been fed in days.

Second helping. Then a third.

It wasn’t unusual. Shakthi always ate well—he was that guy who treated every dinner like a buffet—but something was different today. He wasn’t talking. No loud complaints about Mithra rationing the pickles. No overdramatic exclamations.

Just… chewing.

Quietly. Mechanically.

Nee yen oru maadhiri irukae?

(Why do you look sad?)

Mithra asked, frowning as she watched him scoop a mountain of rice onto his plate.

Shakthi paused, hand hovering over the sambar bowl. Then he looked up at her, face completely blank, and said with alarming seriousness,

Na yeppome sandhoshama irukenlae, adhan sogama irundha yepdhi irukumnu experiment panren

(I’m always happy. So today I wanna experiment what it’s like to be sad.)

Mithra blinked.

What?

Avi, who was sipping water, stopped mid-sip and turned to look at Shakthi.

Shakthi didn’t elaborate. He calmly poured sambar over his rice and began mixing it like nothing had happened.

Mithra exchanged a glance with Avi, brows slightly furrowed.

Neither of them could understand Shakthi's experiment.