It was a bright day, around 8 a.m.
A cycle raced down the road, its tires spinning so fast they almost screamed.
A boy pedaled through the dusty countryside path as spring dandelions set themselves free, their movement as graceful as the arrival of the early sun.
The distant horizon, filled with potato plants, painted the fields in the most beautiful shade of green.
Wearing a casual white and blue school uniform, Arav focused on the road ahead.
He'd pedaled through this path his entire life, yet every time he did, he still felt a sense of peace and solace whenever his eyes met the sight of growing plants.
It was as if he was seeing it all for the first time.
He once lived in the city, though he preferred the countryside more. The greenery and silence—each breath felt like it healed every pain that had found a home in his body.
Suddenly, while humming his favorite tune and nearing the school, another bicycle sped up beside him.
The one riding it was a girl—around three years older than Arav, nineteen.
She wore no uniform; instead, a simple t-shirt that moved gently with her body despite the speed.
Her long black hair flowed wildly yet beautifully, as if the wind itself was cheering her on.
Dark blue eyes—darker than the deep ocean.
"To the fields?" Arav asked, trying to hide his face.
"Yeah. And you—to school, kiddo?" Shreya replied, keeping her speed equal to his.
"Don't call me kiddo! I'm gonna be eighteen soon!" Arav snapped, frustration coloring his voice. She always called him that whenever they met.
Since the first time he'd seen Shreya, he'd fallen for her unmatched beauty. Even in the city, he had never found a woman who could compare.
For two years, they'd gone to school together, until she graduated and began working on her parents' farm.
Whenever they met now, she'd tease him by calling him a kid. Though he complained, he never truly wanted her to stop.
He loved her—and she smiled whenever she said it. How could he tell her to stop if that smile might fade away?
"Well, I'll be first!" Shreya said as she sped up, her figure disappearing with each passing breath.
"And there she goes... an actual grown woman."
Arav sighed, pedaling harder—not to catch up, but to drown the regret of never having confessed when they were still in school.
---
SC — AFTER SCHOOL
Before he could escape the school gates, rain poured down, running along the drains as the dirt turned to mud.
"A wise man once said, cry in the rain so no one sees," Arav murmured, pulling out his umbrella.
He walked to the bike stand, set up his bicycle, and began pedaling.
But holding an umbrella while riding proved impossible, so he put it down.
Getting soaked suddenly felt easier than trying to stay dry.
Moments later, he stopped beneath a closed bus stand, waiting for the rain to ease as he tried to shake the water off his clothes.
A soft cough.
A familiar voice.
Shreya ran toward the shed, parking her bicycle beside his.
"Oh! Kiddo, you're here too!?" she said, surprised, her handkerchief dripping with rainwater.
"You're still holding onto that?" Arav asked, noticing it.
"Yeah, why?" she replied.
"Well... it was given by a kid, so maybe you should use an adult one now," Arav muttered, looking away, trying to bury his feelings.
He knew it already—he could never be with someone older.
"Well," she smiled softly, "it was given to me by a special kid. So I'll keep it... until it tears apart."
That smile—he couldn't even look at it. It was too beautiful, too painful.
"If it's that special," he whispered, "then... why not be with me instead?"
The sound of the rain almost drowned his voice.
Almost.
"What?" Shreya asked—pretending not to hear.
"Nothing," Arav replied quickly.
"Really?"
"Really."
Shreya sighed, her smile fading slightly.
"Hey, Arav… do you know why I call you kiddo?"
"So you can make fun of me?" he replied.
"That's one reason," she said, smiling faintly. "But the truth is… I thought I could push you away by doing that. Did it work?"
"You could never," Arav whispered. The words escaped him before he even realized it.
Shreya looked down, heart racing faster than her thoughts.
"Then... what if I stopped pushing you away? What if I pulled you closer instead? It's selfish, but I'm okay being called greedy."
Her words struck through him like lightning.
He froze for a moment, then breathed out the words he'd buried for years—
"I love you."
A whisper meant for the rain to hide, but—
the rain had already stopped.
As if the sky itself held its breath for them.
"And can I say... I too love you?" she replied softly.
---
PoV - her
It was a bright morning, around 8 a.m.
The countryside road shimmered under the newborn sunlight, and a familiar rhythm echoed through it — the sound of spinning bicycle tires cutting through dust and dandelions.
Shreya smiled faintly, her hands steady on the handles, her hair flowing behind her as the spring breeze played with it.
She'd been cycling down this road for years, yet it never grew dull.
The same green fields, the same scent of soil after dew — and still, each morning felt like a beginning.
Her eyes caught a figure a little ahead — a boy in a blue-and-white school uniform, pedaling as if the road itself was a race to the stars.
She didn't need to guess. She already knew who it was.
Arav.
He'd grown taller. His hair was messier. But that quiet determination on his face — that hadn't changed at all.
She slowed down for a moment, watching him. He looked at the fields like they meant something more than just land.
Maybe that's why I can't stop noticing him, she thought. He sees the world like it's alive.
She caught up to him easily, the front tire of her cycle lining with his.
"To the fields?" he asked, his voice half shy, half pretending to be casual.
Shreya smirked. "Yeah. And you — to school, kiddo?"
Just like that, his shoulders stiffened. He always did that when she called him that.
"Don't call me kiddo! I'm gonna be eighteen soon!" he snapped.
That made her laugh. The same boy who used to forget his lunchbox every other day is talking about being eighteen.
But behind her teasing, there was something she could never admit — that she called him kiddo not to mock him… but to protect herself.
If she kept a little distance, maybe her heart wouldn't betray her.
Two years ago, she'd graduated, left the school behind, and taken up her family's farm. Life had become quieter, slower…
Except when she saw him.
Then everything inside her sped up again.
"Well, I'll be first!" she called, pushing her pedals harder. The wind swallowed her laugh, and she didn't dare look back — because if she did, she might have stayed right there beside him.
---
SCENE — AFTER SCHOOL
By the time she finished her work at the fields, the sky had turned gray.
And before she reached the road home — rain began to fall, heavy and sharp, like the sky had decided to weep without warning.
She pedaled through it anyway, until her shirt clung to her arms and her hair dripped down her neck. The road to the bus stand was slick, the smell of wet earth surrounding her.
When she finally stopped under the shed, shaking off the water, she heard a cough — small, familiar.
Arav.
Standing there, drenched, trying to look calm under the tiny roof.
Her lips curved before she could stop them.
"Oh! Kiddo, you're here too!?"
He glanced at her, flustered as always. She noticed his eyes fall briefly on the handkerchief she held, soaked but still neatly folded.
"You're still holding onto that?" he asked.
She looked down at it — the little piece of cloth, once handed to her by a boy trying to wipe her tears after she'd twisted her ankle years ago.
"Yeah, why?" she asked, smiling.
"Well… it was given by a kid, so maybe you should use an adult one now," he muttered.
His words made her heart twist. He thinks I see him as a child.
Maybe that's her fault — maybe she made it so by calling him one again and again.
"Well," she said softly, "it was given to me by a special kid. So I'll keep it… until it tears apart."
His eyes turned away, but the way his breath hitched didn't escape her.
And then — just barely audible through the rain — she heard it.
"If it's that special… then why not be with me instead?"
Her heart froze.
For a second, she thought she imagined it.
"What?" she asked, half hoping he'd repeat it.
But he only shook his head. "Nothing."
"Really?" she pushed.
"Really."
She sighed. The rain was thinning, softening. Maybe it was time to stop pretending too.
"Hey, Arav," she began, voice low. "Do you know why I call you kiddo?"
He frowned. "So you can make fun of me?"
She smiled faintly. "That's one reason… but the truth is, I thought I could push you away by doing that. Keep you safe. Keep myself safe."
She hesitated. Then whispered, "Did it work?"
He didn't even think. "You could never."
Her chest tightened. You could never.
"Then what if," she said, her voice trembling now, "instead of pushing you away, I pulled you closer? It's greedy, I know. But I don't care if you call me greedy anymore."
He froze — she could see it in his eyes. Then, a whisper, soft but clearer than the rain:
"I love you."
And right then, the rain stopped.
As if the whole world waited for her answer.
She stepped closer, smiled — not the teasing one, not the guarded one — but the one she'd been holding back for years.
"And can I reply… I too love you?"
The sky cleared. The road glimmered again.
Two bicycles leaned side by side, waiting —
for the next morning, when neither of them would need the word kiddo anymore.
---
Written by { dhoben }
Published by { noobBooks studio }
Published on { webnovel TMR }
Editor { raitha, leaf on books studio }
Translation { nooblate eng studio & sub studio }