A girl glided into the engineering class, moving with a silence that was absolute. A late-coming boy hurried past, his shoulder passing directly through her arm as if she were mist. He shivered and looked around, confused, but his eyes never landed on her.
The madam, already teaching, pointed to the board with a piece of chalk. Her gaze swept the room, pausing on every student, except the girl who had just entered.
She took a seat at the last bench, the wood making no sound under her weight. Her eyes, pale and searching, scanned the faces of the students one by one. She dismissed them just as quickly—a flicker of boredom, a sigh no one heard. She was looking for something.
Or someone.
Snehwal started walking to his college in the soft morning sunlight. The air felt strange, charged, as if the day held a secret. He knew it was just his first day of college, but the climb from his house to the main road had already left him breathless, a familiar, unwelcome exhaustion settling deep in his bones.
He paused, leaning against a wall, and forced a small smile. The doctor's words from last week echoed in his head—months, not years.
"No," he whispered, pushing off the wall. "Not today."
He wouldn't let the fatigue win. He wouldn't let the blood cancer define his first day. He was, after all, only eighteen, and the morning was bright. He walked with a confidence he didn't always feel, a peace he had to fight for every morning. Each step was a small victory.
Wearing a clean white shirt and blue jeans, Snehwal walked toward the main gate. He pulled his bag tighter on his shoulder as his pace quickened. Just as he reached the gate, a cold realization hit him—he had forgotten to wear the college uniform.
The guard at the gate stopped him with a raised hand. "Hey! Where are you running? You can't just go in like that. Why are you not in uniform? Are you new here?"
Snehwal, still trying to catch his breath, nodded. "Yes, brother. I'm new here. I came from twenty-five miles away, and I'm already late. Please let me in."
The guard looked at him seriously for a moment, then his expression softened. "Alright, go ahead."
Snehwal sighed in relief and ran inside. His footsteps echoed across the open ground. By the time he reached the academic building, his heart was hammering and his lungs were burning—a painful reminder of how little effort it took to wind him.
As he turned toward the classrooms, a professor stopped him. The man's red tie was a sharp slash of color against his shirt. His deep, strict voice made Snehwal's heart jump.
"Which class are you going to? And which department are you from?"
Snehwal, his nervousness battling his excitement, replied, "B.Tech… Computer Science, sir."
The professor looked straight into his eyes, then nodded firmly. "Alright. Go to the last classroom."
Snehwal found it at the end of the hallway. It was an English class, and the madam was teaching grammar, her chalk squeaking on the board.
Standing at the door, Snehwal said softly, "May I come in, ma'am?"
The madam didn't reply, lost in her lesson. A few students in the front rows turned, looked at Snehwal, and snickered. One waved at him impatiently.
Snehwal took a few slow steps inside, his cheeks warming. The madam finally turned, her eyes sharp.
"Who are you?"
Snehwal felt the entire class looking at him. "I…" he started, his voice barely a whisper.
The class burst into laughter.
Gathering his courage, Snehwal spoke clearer. "My name is Snehwal."
"Which branch?"
"Computer Science," he replied.
"Alright. Sit at the back," the madam said, turning back to the board.
Snehwal scanned the room for an escape. Every bench was full, students sitting in pairs. All except one. In the very last row, a single seat sat empty next to a girl.
She looked up and met his gaze. She had a calm, unnerving smile. She gestured to the empty seat. He gave a small, grateful nod and made his way to the back, sliding in beside her.
After a few minutes of silence, Snehwal asked softly, "What's your name? You already know mine."
The girl smiled, a slow, gentle expression. "My name is Lily."
Snehwal smiled back. "Nice to meet you, Lily. I'm happy to sit beside you."
The classroom was quiet, but the air around them felt light, almost shimmering.
After their short talk, the bell rang.
Snehwal asked curiously, "Which subject is next?"
Lily smiled. "It's Math class."
Just then, a new teacher entered the classroom. Everyone stood up—Snehwal and Lily too.
As Snehwal rose, he glanced at Lily. She was already standing, watching him. Not the teacher. Him.
A sudden, sharp heat bloomed behind his eyes. He flinched, his vision swimming. The room seemed to tilt. The new teacher's voice became a dull, distorted drone, as if it were coming from under water.
He tried to focus, but his head felt impossibly heavy. The classroom dissolved, replaced by a sterile white light. He smelled antiseptic. He heard a different voice—Dr. Ar