When I woke up the next morning, I felt strange.
Not weak.
Not sick.
Just… different.
For the first few seconds, I kept staring at the ceiling without moving, as if my body was waiting for my mind to catch up. The room was quiet. The fan was turning slowly above me. Sunlight was coming in through the window in a soft orange line.
Everything looked normal.
But I knew something inside me was not normal anymore.
I sat up slowly and touched the back of my neck.
There it was again.
A faint mark.
Red-orange in color.
Not exactly painful, but strange enough to make me uneasy. It looked like a trace of heat had stayed there through the night. I stared at it in the mirror for a long time, trying to understand what it was.
Nothing made sense.
I washed my face, changed my clothes, and went downstairs for breakfast, still feeling that quiet confusion inside me.
The moment I entered the dining room, I could feel the family atmosphere.
Mom was already at the table.
Papa was sitting across from her.
And Shourya was half-awake, still looking like he had not fully returned from sleep.
Mom noticed me first.
She looked at my face carefully, then at my neck.
"Takash," she said, narrowing her eyes a little, "why do you look so serious this early in the morning?"
I forced a small smile and sat down.
"Nothing, Mom. Just sleepy."
Papa looked at me too, but unlike Mom, he smiled in that relaxed way of his, as if he already knew I was not telling the full truth.
"Sleepy?" he said. "You were the one who went to bed like you had conquered the entire world."
Shourya laughed quietly through his tea.
Mom shook her head.
"Don't start again. At breakfast also you two will begin your nonsense."
Papa gave her a dramatic look.
"My nonsense? Megha, I am only speaking the truth."
Mom folded her arms and leaned back in her chair.
"Then tell me the truth properly. Why are you smiling so much this morning?"
Papa acted innocent.
"Because I am in a good mood."
Mom immediately raised an eyebrow.
"Good mood? Since when?"
Shourya almost choked on his food, trying not to laugh.
I looked down at my plate, but I could already feel the strange tension rising at the table. It was one of those mornings when everyone was talking, but underneath the teasing, there was something else hiding quietly.
Papa looked at Mom with a very calm expression.
"Why are you asking so seriously?" he said. "You are the one who was acting all worried yesterday."
Mom blinked.
"I was worried because you were behaving weirdly."
Papa smiled.
"Me? Weird?"
He leaned a little forward, lowering his voice as if he was sharing some dangerous secret.
"Then explain why you were staring at me like I had suddenly become a stranger."
Mom's face changed instantly.
"Don't make things up."
Papa gave a soft laugh.
"I am not making anything up. I know that look. If you had one more second, you would have started interrogating me properly."
I stayed quiet, but I could not stop watching them.
The way they talked to each other always felt strange to me.
Not in a bad way.
More like they knew how to annoy each other so perfectly that even their arguments looked warm.
Mom tried to hide a smile and turned toward me.
"Takash, tell your father to stop behaving like this."
I opened my mouth slightly, but before I could say anything, Papa spoke first.
"Leave him out of this. He is already thinking too much these days."
Mom's eyes shifted to me immediately.
That made me pause.
She always noticed such small things.
"Thinking too much?" she repeated softly. "Takash, are you okay?"
I nodded quickly.
"Yes, Mom."
But she did not look convinced.
Her gaze moved to my neck again.
I immediately became aware of the mark there.
And now, with her looking at me, I felt even more conscious of it.
Mom tilted her head slightly.
"Beta… what is that on your neck?"
My fingers froze around the spoon.
Papa also looked in my direction.
Shourya, who had been silent until now, turned to look at me too.
I touched the back of my neck again and tried to act casual.
"Oh… nothing. Maybe I slept wrong."
Papa narrowed his eyes slightly, not in suspicion, but in that quiet fatherly way that always made me feel like he already knew more than he was saying.
"Sleep wrong?" he repeated. "Then why does it look like a burn mark?"
I looked down immediately.
Mom stood up and came closer.
"Show me."
"Mom, it's nothing."
"Takash."
Her voice was soft, but firm enough to leave no room for argument.
So I lowered my head slightly while she came near.
Her fingers touched the back of my neck gently.
Her touch was warm.
For a second, I almost forgot the strange feeling from the night before.
Then she frowned.
"What happened here?"
I swallowed.
"I don't know."
Papa finally got up from his chair and came closer too.
He examined the mark carefully, then looked at me for a long second.
Not worried.
Not angry.
Just thoughtful.
Then he said quietly, "It doesn't look serious."
Mom glanced at him.
"Then what does it look like?"
Papa smiled faintly.
"Like he has been carrying too much on his mind."
I looked away.
That sentence hit harder than it should have.
Mom sighed and returned to her seat.
"If he keeps pretending like this, then one day his body will start complaining louder than his mouth."
Shourya nodded quickly.
"That's true."
I glanced at him.
He was trying hard not to smile.
Mom turned to Papa again, still slightly annoyed.
"And you—stop smiling like that. I am seriously asking."
Papa gave her a calm look.
"Then ask seriously."
Mom was quiet for a second, then said, "Fine. I was asking because you have been acting strange too."
Papa raised one eyebrow.
"Me?"
"Yes."
She pointed at him with the spoon.
"You keep smiling as if you know something I don't."
Papa leaned back in his chair, very relaxed.
"Maybe I do."
Mom stared at him.
And for a moment, I thought she might really get angry.
But then Papa added softly, "Or maybe I just like watching you worry about me."
Mom immediately looked away, but I saw it.
A small smile.
Barely there.
But real.
That was the strange thing about my parents.
Even their tension felt affectionate.
Even their arguments felt safe.
After a few seconds, Mom sighed and stood up to clear the plates.
"Enough drama. Both of you finish breakfast and get ready."
Shourya finally spoke.
"Mom, I am already getting ready. Takash is the only one who looks like he fought with a ghost last night."
I shot him a look.
He grinned.
Papa laughed under his breath.
Mom shook her head.
"Shourya, don't start."
Then, while collecting a bowl from the table, she looked back at me again.
"But Takash…"
I looked up.
"Don't keep things inside just because you think you can handle them alone."
I went quiet.
Her voice had changed now.
No teasing.
No joke.
Just a mother who had noticed something wrong and did not want to ignore it.
"I'm fine, Mom," I said again, but this time my voice sounded less convincing even to me.
She held my gaze for a moment, then nodded slowly.
"Alright. But if something is bothering you, tell me."
Papa also looked at me with that same calm expression.
And then, in a lighter tone, he said, "Otherwise your mother will keep observing your face like a detective all day."
Mom gave him a sharp look.
"Because someone in this house has to notice when people are lying."
Shourya laughed.
I could not help smiling a little too.
For a few minutes after that, the room felt lighter.
Normal.
Almost.
But as I sat there, touching the mark on my neck again, I kept feeling that strange uneasiness inside me.
Because it did not feel like something I had caused in my sleep.
It felt like a reminder.
A warning.
Or maybe a sign that whatever happened last night had not ended at all.
And somewhere deep inside me, I knew one thing for certain—
this morning was peaceful only on the surface.