There are many humiliating things a man can experience.
Failing an exam.
Falling in public.
Accidentally confessing feelings on a balcony.
But nothing—
nothing—
compared to having your first date officially scheduled by your mother.
Not suggested.
Not encouraged.
Scheduled.
Like a dentist appointment.
Aarav sat on the edge of his bed the next morning, staring at the ceiling and questioning every life decision that had led him here.
Outside, Delhi continued existing like nothing catastrophic had happened.
Birds were singing.
Cars were honking.
And somewhere in the kitchen—
His mother was probably planning grandchildren.
Too fast.
Far too fast.
Rohan, traitor and self-appointed life coach, was sitting in the chair near the desk, eating chips like this was premium content.
"This," he said proudly, "is better than any romance drama."
Aarav glared.
"You are not helping."
"I am helping myself. Emotionally."
Fair.
Unfortunately fair.
He pointed dramatically.
"Your mother arranged your first date with a future biotech queen who can probably kill you using nanotechnology."
A pause.
"Cinema."
Pain.
Only pain.
Aarav rubbed his face.
"I'm considering exile."
Rohan nodded.
"She'll still call."
True.
Terrifyingly true.
There was a knock on the door.
Aarav froze.
Because in this house, knocks were warnings.
His sister entered without waiting.
Of course.
She leaned against the doorframe like the villain she was born to be.
"Mom says wear something decent."
Rohan gasped dramatically.
"Official maternal fashion inspection."
His sister ignored him.
"She also said if you wear that black T-shirt again, she will disown you."
Aarav looked down at his black T-shirt.
Betrayal.
Immediate betrayal.
He sighed.
"What does Mira even count as a date person?"
His sister blinked.
"She likes honesty."
Rohan added,
"And violence."
Useful.
Deeply useful.
His sister folded her arms.
"Also, don't be weird."
Aarav stared.
"That advice is impossible."
Correct.
Very correct.
Downstairs, the house looked suspiciously prepared.
Too prepared.
Flowers.
Extra food.
His mother was sitting like she had orchestrated governments.
His father was reading the newspaper with the expression of a man who had survived this battlefield once and refused re-entry.
Wise.
Anciently wise.
Aelina sat at the table, smiling into her tea like a peaceful witness.
Selene stood near the window like a royal guard approving the mission.
Nysera was helping his grandmother with online shopping because, apparently, she had become family in under forty-eight hours.
And Mira—
Mira had not arrived yet.
Which meant Aarav still had time to panic.
His mother looked up.
Calm.
Terrifying.
"Why are you standing there?"
He answered honestly.
"Fear."
She nodded.
"Good. Means you care."
Not comforting.
Not even slightly.
Then—
The doorbell rang.
Everyone looked.
Even destiny paused.
Rohan whispered,
"She's here."
Aarav considered death.
Again.
The door opened.
And Mira walked in.
Silence.
Immediate silence.
Because apparently the universe enjoyed dramatic timing.
She wore a simple dark blue dress—elegant, sharp, impossible to ignore.
No unnecessary effort.
Which somehow made it worse.
Her hair was loose.
Her expression was calm.
Dangerously calm.
And the moment Aarav saw her—
His brain resigned.
Rohan whispered like a sports commentator,
"He is gone. Spiritually gone."
Accurate.
Painfully accurate.
His mother, of course, noticed immediately.
She smiled.
Terrible.
Beautiful.
Terrible.
"Mira beta, come."
Mira stepped inside with the confidence of someone entering enemy territory and deciding to own it.
She greeted everyone politely.
His mother approved.
His grandmother approved.
His sister approved too much.
This was dangerous.
Then Mira looked at Aarav.
One raised eyebrow.
No words.
Just—
Are you going to stand there like furniture?
He recovered slightly.
"Hi."
Brilliant.
Poetic.
Unmatched.
Mira stared.
"…Truly your best work."
Rohan physically left the room laughing.
Excellent.
Wonderful.
His mother stood.
Decision made.
"Good. Leave."
Aarav blinked.
"What?"
She pointed toward the door.
"This is called a date. Go outside."
His father muttered behind the newspaper,
"She is efficient."
Legend.
Absolute legend.
Aarav grabbed his keys like a man escaping prison.
Mira followed, somehow looking both amused and dangerous.
As they stepped outside—
His mother called after them.
And of course it was the final attack.
"Be back before midnight!"
Silence.
Then—
His younger cousin shouted from inside—
"And hold hands!"
Chaos.
Absolute chaos.
The front door shut.
Mercy.
Beautiful mercy.
Outside, the evening air felt like freedom.
Temporary freedom.
Aarav exhaled slowly.
Mira stood beside him, arms crossed, looking far too calm.
For a moment—
silence.
Then she said—
"Your family is terrifying."
He nodded.
"Yes."
Another pause.
Then—
"…I think they like you."
Mira looked at him.
"I noticed."
A beat.
"I am still deciding if that is good."
Fair.
Very fair.
They began walking.
No giant monsters.
No collapsing timelines.
Just city lights and two people trying not to overthink everything.
Which was somehow harder.
After a while, Aarav said quietly—
"I'm sorry."
Mira frowned.
"For what?"
"For… all of it."
He made a vague gesture toward existence.
"The chaos. My family. The accidental public confession."
She looked ahead.
Then—
"I wasn't angry."
That stopped him.
"What?"
Mira sighed.
"I was annoyed."
Important distinction.
"Because you said something real and then immediately tried to run away from it."
Painfully accurate.
He accepted that.
She continued.
"I dislike cowardice."
Fair.
Brutal.
Fair.
Aarav nodded.
"Then let me say it properly."
Now she looked at him.
No escape.
Only truth.
He took a breath.
And this time—
No panic.
No jokes.
Just honesty.
"I like you, Mira."
The city felt quieter.
"I like that you challenge me."
A step.
"I like that you care even when you pretend not to."
Another.
"And I don't know what the future looks like yet…"
His voice softened.
"But when I think about it—"
He met her eyes.
"You're there."
Silence.
Real silence.
The kind that changed things.
Mira stood still.
Violet eyes unreadable.
And then—
very softly—
She asked:
"Do you know how dangerous it is to say that to me?"
Aarav smiled faintly.
"Yes."
She stepped closer.
Close enough that breathing became a strategic decision.
Good.
Because I was starting to think I would have to kiss you first."
System failure.
Complete.
Total.
Aarav, hero of timelines, defender of humanity, survivor of cosmic tragedy—
forgot how language worked.
Mira looked entirely too satisfied.
Then—
She kissed him.
Simple.
Real.
No fireworks.
No cosmic energy.
Just warmth.
And the terrifying realisation that somehow—
This mattered more than saving the world.
When she stepped back, Aarav looked like a man who had briefly met God and lost the argument.
Mira adjusted her sleeve calmly.
"As I said."
A pause.
"I dislike unclear people."
Rohan's voice suddenly echoed from somewhere across the street—
"LET'S GOOOOOO!"
They both turned.
There he was.
Behind a tea stall.
With binoculars.
His sister is beside him.
And somehow—
Nysera.
A surveillance team.
A criminal operation.
A betrayal of historic proportions.
Mira closed her eyes.
"…I want new friends."
Aarav sighed.
"Me too."
But he was smiling.
Because after everything—
after time, wars, and impossible futures and all the terrifying uncertainty ahead—
This felt right.
Messy.
Embarrassing.
Real.
And somewhere at home—
His mother definitely already knew.
Because of course she did.
She always did.