The new apartment smelled like rain, rust, and unopened cardboard. Boxes were stacked everywhere, leaning against each other as if tired from the journey. Some were labeled neatly in Vahni's careful handwriting—Kitchen, Books, Vessels.Others, as always, were labeled simply:
Misc.
Misc had followed us through four cities, two fake names, and one life we never talked about.
I nudged a box with my foot. It wobbled dangerously, then settled.
Raghav sat on the edge of the sofa, his right arm wrapped in a makeshift sling. He tried to shift his weight to stand, but pain shot across his face in a tight wince. He pressed his hand to his ribs, breathing shallowly.
"Don't," Vahni said immediately.
She crossed the room before he could argue. Her fingers curled around his wrist, steadying him. For a moment, they stood too close. Her hair brushed his shoulder. His breath hitched.
He looked away first.
"I can carry something," he muttered.
"You can barely stand," she replied.
Her voice softened when she said it. The kind of softness she didn't allow often.
I sat by the window and pretended not to notice the tension between them. It wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic.It was just there—quiet, careful, and unspoken.
Vahni turned to me. "Tejas, finish your bag. First day of school."
I nodded and opened my bag, stuffing in notebooks, sharpened pencils, and a water bottle that still smelled faintly of the old apartment. The fan rattled overhead, stirring the smell of wet clothes drying on the balcony rope.
Outside, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. The city looked washed clean but tired underneath.
My father tried again to shift. His injured arm dragged, and he almost stumbled forward. Vahni stepped in instantly, catching him by the elbow. Their hands stayed linked for a moment too long.
"I've got you," she said quietly.
"I know," he replied, but the words carried guilt.
That guilt had lived in our house long before the fire took everything else.
I slipped to the balcony to give them space. The railing was still wet from the rain. I placed my palm on it.
Cold metal met my skin.
And then warmth bloomed under my hand.
A small throb pulsed inside my chest, growing outward through my arm. The railing warmed beneath my palm, slowly at first, then steadily, like holding a hot cup of tea.
I snatched my hand back.
Not here.Not now.
I pressed my fist to my chest and inhaled the way Vahni had taught me: slow, deep, controlled.
The spark faded.
Only then did I step outside with my bag and walk with Vahni down the narrow stairs. She held an umbrella over the both of us. My father stayed behind—he could barely move, let alone escort me.
The rain pattered lightly around us.
"You'll be fine," Vahni said.
Her voice was firm as always, but her hand tightened around the umbrella's handle. She was worried.
New school. New city. New lies.
We reached the main road. Autos honked. A milk vendor shouted about fresh packets. A couple argued over who forgot the house keys. The world moved on, unaware that ours had burned only yesterday.
The school gate rose ahead of us. A faded signboard with peeling paint welcomed students in bold lettering. Kids hurried through the entrance, laughing, pushing, shouting about homework and TV shows.
Normal kids in a normal world.
I wasn't sure if I envied them or feared them.
Vahni bent down slightly to look me in the eye. "Remember what I said. Stay quiet. Stay low. Don't get angry. Don't draw attention."
"I know," I whispered.
She nodded, kissed the top of my head, and pressed something into my palm—her old brass locket.
"For strength," she said.
"But—"
"I'll take it back later. Go."
I watched her walk away until the umbrella disappeared behind a curve.
Then I stepped into the school grounds.
Students swarmed past me in every direction. A boy ran by holding a football. Girls compared hairbands. A group near the wall debated whether aliens were real.
None of them noticed me.
That should've been comforting.But it felt like standing in a crowd made of smoke.
I followed the painted arrows toward the main building. Rainwater dripped from the roof edges. My shoes squeaked with every step.
Two students whispered near the stairs.
"New kid?""Probably. Look at his uniform. Too neat."
"Poor fellow," someone added. "He'll meet Kabir by lunch."
I didn't know who Kabir was, but the way they said it made my stomach twist.
Inside the building, the hallways smelled of chalk and sanitizer. A teacher walked past, balancing a stack of test papers. A janitor cleaned a muddy footprint.
I let the tide of students pull me forward until I reached Class 6B.
The door was open.
A cluster of kids were already inside—some arranging books, some gossiping, some staring blankly at the board.
I stood in the doorway for a moment, preparing myself.
New lies.New name.New mask.
Footsteps approached behind me—fast, uneven, almost chaotic.
"Hey, move—!"
Someone bumped straight into my back.
I stumbled forward and caught myself on the bench.
The girl behind me gasped dramatically.
"Oh my god, sorry! I was trying to outrun my own brain."
I turned.
She had round glasses, messy hair tied in a half-broken ponytail, and a school bag stuffed so full it looked like it wanted to explode. She blinked at me with wide, unfiltered curiosity.
"You're new!" she declared instantly. "I knew it. I can always smell new people."
"You can … smell them?" I asked.
"Yes. It's a talent."
She shoved past me, plopped into the first-row bench, then turned back and pointed at the empty seat beside her.
"Sit here!"
"Why?" I asked.
"Because you look like you need supervision," she said simply.
Her smile was too real, too open.
"By the way, I'm Anaya."
I hesitated.
But something about her—maybe the blunt honesty, maybe the chaos—felt strangely safe.
"I'm Tejas."
"Welcome to 6B, Tejas." She leaned in and whispered dramatically. "Trust me, this place is a circus, and you just bought a front-row ticket."
Before I could respond, the class teacher walked in, stacking her handbag on the table.
She greeted a group of polished-looking boys with warm smiles.
"Good morning, Kabir! Lovely haircut!"
Then she gave a thin, polite nod to the rest of the class.
Including me.
Favoritism existed everywhere, it seemed.
I exhaled and took my seat beside Anaya.
She nudged me and whispered, "Don't worry. I'll explain all the villains later."
My first day had officially begun.