So many days had passed since Darakhsha had become a part of both Izhaan's school and his coaching life. Time had blurred the awkwardness they once shared. Now, they had begun to know each other—if not deeply, then just enough to understand when one was annoyed, when one was joking, and when the other was about to destroy them in a test.
Even Kashish, who once felt like an outsider, had now become a solid part of the group. Her loud voice, blunt jokes, and tendency to sulk whenever she felt left out—oddly fit in perfectly with the trio. Whenever discussions of upcoming school tuition tests came up, she would whine and clutch her head.
"I swear, you three are like walking-talking books. I just wanna sleep during break and you're discussing photosynthesis."
Izhaan would flash a sly grin and jab back with something like—
"Don't worry, Kashish. Even if we discuss gravity, you'll stay grounded in the same class."
And that was enough to send Darakhsha into a laughing fit, her palm over her mouth, her shoulders trembling.
But beyond all that, there was a silent thread of rivalry between Izhaan and Darakhsha. Sweet, sour, sharp, and subtle. The kind of rivalry where one would always wait to see the other's score before reacting to their own. The kind where every small smile after a correct answer carried more meaning than words.
In coaching, Izhaan topped most of the tests—except chemistry. That subject was like a chore to him. Something he studied because he had to, not because he liked it. And every time the Chemistry results were announced and Darakhsha's name came first, she'd flash the smallest victorious smile at him—and he'd roll his eyes like it didn't matter, even though it did.
Soon, even their classmates began noticing the dynamic between them. The not-so-hidden rivalry, the little bickering, the way they'd sit near each other but never too close, and the smirks they exchanged before tests. Akshat and Kashish, on the other hand, were usually sulking or joking about how they were "ignored side characters" in a topper drama.
But the truth?
They had become the backbenchers of Class 9-B—the squad everyone either envied or admired. From sports to debates to tests, they were everywhere.
Izhaan dominated as a left winger on the football team and held the chess trophy three years in a row.
Darakhsha stunned everyone with her badminton finesse and her own secret chess skills, though she'd never faced Izhaan in a match.
Akshat was the perfect center mid in football, full of agility and fire.
And Kashish?
Well… Kashish was just Kashish—good in spirit, bad in studies, and excellent at poking fun.
One afternoon, during lunch break, the four of them were in the school park.
Darakhsha and Kashish sat lazily on the swings, slowly rocking back and forth, while Akshat and Izhaan stood nearby. Izhaan leaned against the metal frame of the swing, his white school shirt slightly rolled up at the sleeves, tie half loosened, legs crossed like he was posing for a magazine shoot without realizing it.
"Are you even real?" Kashish muttered under her breath, eyeing him with mock disgust. "This pose should be illegal."
"Izhaan always does that," Darakhsha replied, half-annoyed, half-amused. "I think he's doing it on purpose now."
At that moment, a group of girls from another section passed by. They weren't subtle in their admiration—elbows nudging, giggles bubbling up.
And then, one of them broke away from the group.
She walked up to Izhaan, brushing her hair behind her ear, voice sweetened like syrup. "Hey, Izhaan, right?"
He glanced at her. "Yeah."
"You're in 9-B? I think I've seen you in the science competition last year…"
"Hm."
"Do you—uh—like reading... or football?"
He blinked. "Both."
Her awkward giggle echoed. "Nice, I just thought—maybe we could talk sometime, or hang out—"
That's when Izhaan finally shifted his body, turned slightly toward her, and spoke—calm, sharp, and completely uninterested.
"We're discussing something important here, so if you could..."
The girl froze. A silence fell. Then, with a quick "okay," she turned around and walked away, her head lowered in embarrassment as her friends tried to console her.
Kashish exhaled hard through her nose. "Damn. That was cold."
Akshat slapped Izhaan on the back. "You're ruthless."
Darakhsha just looked at him quietly, no expression on her face—but her heart, oddly enough, beat a little louder.
She didn't know why.
Kashish let out a tired sigh, legs lazily swinging in the air.
"Half-yearlies are exactly two weeks from now… and I've not even started. Huh."
Akshat chimed in dramatically, flopping onto the grass.
"I agree… Why are the exams so early? Was the school authority drunk when they decided the dates?"
That's when he came in.
The backbench monarch.
The walking punchline with topper scores.
Izhaan.
He straightened up a bit, pretending to think with a finger on his chin.
"Umm… Akshat, in which month did our semester start?"
Akshat raised an eyebrow.
"April, duh."
"And in which month is our half-yearly exam?"
"...November?"
Izhaan tilted his head like an innocent kid.
"Do you have any job? Even if it's part-time?"
"No, but why are you ask—"
"Then what the hell were you doing for six months?!" Izhaan shot back. "Killing mosquitoes in slow motion? Practicing shadowboxing with your syllabus? How the hell do you not know anything even now?"
Kashish and Darakhsha—
They both exploded.
Darakhsha's laugh came out in waves—starting from a chuckle to full-blown riot. She threw her head back, her hand on the chain of the swing, barely keeping balance.
Kashish was clapping like a seal, nearly dropping her phone as her legs flailed off the swing.
"And you," Izhaan turned sharply to Kashish, grinning wide.
"Don't think you're safe. What exactly were you doing in these six months? Don't tell me you were waiting for your prince to come riding across the seven seas on a full moon night just to cancel your exams… or blow up the school building like Aladdin's rebellious cousin?"
That broke whatever restraint Darakhsha had left.
She burst out laughing so hard that her grip on the swing loosened and she tipped forward.
"Whoa whoa—" Izhaan caught her arm just in time.
"Yo, calm down. You're gonna fall and make me repeat this chapter to you all over again when you get hospitalized."
Her stomach was aching, cheeks flushed from laughing too much.
Kashish handed her a water bottle.
"Take it before you pass out."
Darakhsha wiped her eyes and held her chest.
"Y-you… you need to STOP or I'll DIE laughing, I swear…!"
Izhaan sat back on the swing frame again, watching her with a small smirk—his arms folded, wind brushing past his hair.
She was still holding her stomach and gasping for breath through laughter. Her eyes glistened from the tears, her voice cracked between giggles, but… she looked alive.
So free. So expressive. So unfiltered.
"She really laughs like the world doesn't weigh her down," he thought.
Kashish exhaled dramatically, leaning her head on her palms.
"I just couldn't get the motivation to study, okay? How could I study without someone to motivate me?"
Izhaan's ears twitched. His eyes sparkled like a lightbulb just flicked on.
"Perfect chance…" he smirked internally.
He stood up slowly, turned to her like a guru stepping on stage.
"You want someone to motivate you?" he repeated, voice deepening.
Kashish nodded innocently, still leaning.
"Yup..."
Suddenly—BOOM.
Izhaan erupted like he just got possessed by a motivational YouTuber with ten million subscribers and zero chill.
"WHY. ARE. YOU. SITTING?!" he roared.
"Stand up right now! Even if you're sad! Even if your dog left you and your crush blocked you—STAND UP!"
Startled, Kashish jumped to her feet like she was in boot camp.
"Ahh! Okay okay I'm up!" she panicked.
Then, without missing a beat, Izhaan coolly walked past her and plopped down on the exact swing she was sitting on.
Crossed his legs. Folded his arms.
He swayed slightly like he was on a throne of judgment.
"Hey! I was sittin—"
"Shut up. I'm in the middle of motivating you." he interrupted, voice deep and composed.
That was it.
Darakhsha and Akshat lost it.
Darakhsha was holding her stomach again, laughing so hard her swing started rocking.
Akshat was wheezing beside her, smacking his palm on his thigh.
Izhaan leaned forward on the swing dramatically, pointing like a motivational monk gone rogue.
"Look at yourself!" he shouted to Kashish.
"You want motivation? Lemme ask—do you want to top the exams or flop in front of your future in-laws?!"
"Do you want the world to remember you as 'that girl who didn't revise physics'?!"
Akshat was on the ground, actually slapping the grass now.
Darakhsha was laughing so hard she couldn't stop rocking forward on the swing. Her laughter had gone completely uncontrollable—eyes shut, hair swaying, stomach aching.
And then—
"Ack—!"
She tipped forward, almost falling off the swing.
But before she could hit the ground, someone caught her.
Firmly.
One strong arm slipped around her shoulders, pulling her back into balance.
The other hand gently pressed against her belly to stop her momentum.
She froze.
Her eyes widened—still slightly teary from the laughter—but now it wasn't just because of the joke.
Izhaan.
He was standing right beside her, steadying her with that same calm seriousness he used when solving a math equation.
"Careful…" he said softly, eyes steady. "You'll actually fall one day if you keep laughing like that."
Darakhsha blinked. Her breath caught somewhere between her throat and her chest.
That arm was still over her shoulder, his hand still lightly on her waist.
"…T-thanks…" she whispered, cheeks going rosy.
He let her go gently and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.
Kashish, who had just recovered from her own laughter, looked between the two and muttered,
"…Well, that escalated adorably."
Izhaan pretended to hear nothing and dramatically pointed a finger back at Kashish.
"Anyway, as I was saying, the swing might be gone, but my motivation will continue to swing through your hearts forever."
Akshat: "Bro, just… stop before you start a TED Talk here."
"Such excellent motivation, wow," Kashish said, arms crossed sarcastically.
"Almost killed a person from laughter."
That only made Akshat and Darakhsha burst out again.
Izhaan chuckled, now leaning casually on the swing again.
"Motivation is a dangerous thing," he said with a wink.
"Some faint, some fall, some just stand up and lose their seat."
As the laughter finally settled and everyone regained their breath, Akshat suddenly snapped his fingers like he had a eureka moment.
"Guys!" he said, standing upright like some genius had just descended into his body, "Why don't we start group studying together from tomorrow? That way even me and Kashish can cover up our 'slightly misplaced brilliance'."
Kashish raised a brow. "You mean your syllabus-shaped grave?"
Izhaan smirked. "Bro, this idea sounds suspiciously like a setup where we do the work and you two eat the snacks."
Akshat raised both hands. "No no no. Hear me out. I'm serious this time. Look, we all have half-yearlies coming, and I genuinely don't wanna fail in front of Sharma sir again… And you know he will call parents this time."
Darakhsha nodded thoughtfully. "Actually, it's not a bad idea. Studying together could help us all revise better."
Kashish clapped. "Exactly! And we can quiz each other too—though please don't roast me like last time…"
Izhaan tilted his head. "Fine. I'm in. But where's this so-called study camp happening? Library?"
Kashish instantly shook her head. "Nooo. The school library closes too early. Plus, I want snacks."
Akshat added, "And coaching is out of the question, that place already feels like a prison. We need… vibes."
Darakhsha raised her hand like a class monitor. "What about my house? We could—"
Izhaan cut her off. "You sure your mom won't throw me out for being loud?"
Kashish: "Valid concern."
Darakhsha laughed. "I'll ask, but I doubt she'll be okay with four teens yelling about equations in the drawing room."
Akshat offered another: "Kashish's place?"
Kashish instantly: "My little cousin will destroy your notes with crayons before you blink."
Everyone went silent.
And then…
All eyes slowly turned to Izhaan.
He paused. "…What?"
Akshat grinned like a fox. "Your house is always empty in the evenings… Plus, snacks. And Wi-Fi."
Izhaan squinted at him. "You just want to use my fridge and net."
Kashish leaned in, persuasive voice activated. "Come onnnn, Izhaan. You're the most logical choice. Your study table fits two. Your sofa fits two more. It's destiny."
Even Darakhsha joined in, "You explain well… and we'll bring food?"
Izhaan groaned, rubbing his face. "Fine. But if you people mess up my room—"
Akshat cut in, "We won't! Promise! So it's final! Group study at Izhaan's palace starting tomorrow."
Izhaan, with the most dramatic sigh in the world:
"Congratulations to me, the unwilling host of the first annual Backbencher Bootcamp."
Everyone laughed—and just like that, the deal was sealed.
The next day, after school, the four of them made their way to Izhaan's home. For Darakhsha and Kashish, it was their first time visiting; for Akshat, it was more like stepping into his second home.
Izhaan rang the doorbell, and within moments, his mom opened the door with a warm smile. "Come, kids," she said kindly, stepping aside. "Study hard, the living room is free."
As they all stepped in, her gaze gently settled on Darakhsha. Her eyes lingered for a moment as she admired the soft chestnut brown of the girl's hair, and then said warmly, "You must be… Darakhsha, right?"
Darakhsha straightened slightly and replied in a respectful tone, "Yes, but… how do you know me, aunty?"
Izhaan's mom smiled knowingly. "Well, Pritam sir told me. He said you and Izhaan are among the best students at the coaching institute—and good friends too."
Darakhsha's cheeks turned a faint pink. "Oh… I see," she murmured softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Just then, a small pair of feet came pattering toward them—Noor, Izhaan's little sister, had just woken up from her afternoon nap. She reached for her brother, her sleepy eyes lighting up as she hugged his leg.
Izhaan scooped her up in his arms and chuckled, "Who are these people, bhaiya?" Noor asked.
Noor blinked at the group, observing them one by one.
"They're my friends," Izhaan continued. "Come, meet them. This is—"
"I know him!" Noor interrupted, pointing at Akshat. "He is… Akshat bhaiya!"
"Yesss, smart girl!" Izhaan said, grinning, while Akshat reached over to gently pinch Noor's cheeks.
"Good girl," he said warmly, making her giggle.
Then Izhaan gestured to Kashish. "This is Kashish."
"Hii baebyyy," Kashish cooed playfully. Noor smiled brightly in response.
Finally, Izhaan turned to Darakhsha, and for some reason, the moment felt unexpectedly awkward. He hesitated for half a second, then introduced, "She is… Darakhsha. Say hi…"
Noor blinked, then waved shyly. "Hi didi… You are cute…"
Darakhsha's face went red as she laughed softly, taking Noor from Izhaan's arms and holding her gently. "Thanks, baby… What's your name?"
"My name is Fatma Noor," she said proudly, wrapping her tiny arms around Darakhsha's neck.
"You are cuter than me, Noor," Darakhsha said sweetly and planted a soft kiss on Noor's cheek.
Izhaan, watching from beside, felt a strange warmth rise in his chest. He didn't quite understand it… but seeing Darakhsha holding Noor so gently, smiling like that—it made him… happy. Genuinely happy.
He glanced at the two once more, Darakhsha cradling Noor with such affection, and found himself smiling before he even realized it.
After Noor was taken away by Izhaan's mom for lunch, the four teens settled in the living room, closing the door behind them to keep their little "mascot" from barging in mid-equation.
Izhaan and Darakhsha took the sofa—seated side by side but leaving just enough space to make it feel formal. Meanwhile, Akshat and Kashish sat cross-legged at the coffee table like obedient kids in a gurukul—today, they were the students, and their teachers were none other than the duo who topped every class.
The first subject on their agenda? Biology—Izhaan's favorite.
"Okay," Izhaan clapped his hands together, "Let's start with The Living World."
He explained the first two chapters, The Living World and Cell: The Unit of Life, with absolute ease, breaking down even the densest paragraphs like a pro. Diagrams were drawn, analogies were cracked, and whenever he noticed Akshat or Kashish zoning out, he tossed in jokes that made the whole room laugh.
"Bro, how is mitochondria the powerhouse? More like the overworked uncle who never gets a raise," he quipped once, making Darakhsha chuckle in spite of herself.
But every time someone sulked off—mostly Akshat claiming "mental breakdown" or Kashish groaning like she was climbing Mount Everest—Darakhsha didn't hold back.
"Get back to your notebook, Akshat. Or I swear I'll throw this cell diagram at you," she warned once, dead serious.
Izhaan blinked, thinking, Damn… she's dangerous when she's in study mode. No wonder I don't even joke with her during serious explanations.
When it came time for the next two chapters, Darakhsha took the lead. Her explanations were sharp and accurate, her handwriting crisp as she pointed at lines in the textbook and translated them into simple terms.
Only problem?
Her jokes needed… work.
"So… you can remember the Golgi Apparatus by thinking of a Golgappa stall," she said once with an awkward little laugh.
There was a pause.
Then Izhaan leaned forward, lips twitching, "Yes, especially because both pack things… Golgi packs proteins, and Golgappa packs mirch masala emotion."
That cracked up everyone—including Darakhsha herself, who laughed with a hand over her mouth. Maybe he's not that bad, she thought quietly, before brushing the idea off.
After nearly four chapters of nonstop biology, they were drained—at least Kashish and Akshat were visibly dead inside.
"I think my soul left my body in the middle of meiosis…" Kashish mumbled, face-planting onto the table.
Akshat groaned beside her, "I can still hear cells dividing in my brain…"
Izhaan and Darakhsha exchanged a glance, both recognizing that any more would be overkill.
"We'll do the rest tomorrow," Izhaan said, standing and stretching. "Before these two drop dead."
With that, the session was paused for the day.
They went out to the balcony for snacks and cool drinks, chatting and unwinding. Later, they played with Noor—who insisted everyone sit in a circle while she served imaginary tea from her toy set.
It was the perfect ending to a very productive study session.
As the sun began to dip low, casting golden streaks across the street, the study group decided to call it a day. Laughter still lingered in the air from the balcony snack session, and Noor waved goodbye from the doorstep with a half-eaten cookie in hand.
Izhaan walked the three of them down to the society gate.
Akshat was the first to part, calling out, "See you tomorrow, Coach Izhaan!"
"Go revise what we studied before your brain replaces it with football formations," Izhaan teased.
Next was Kashish, who dragged her feet dramatically. "Ugh, I've never studied this much in a single day. My ancestors are crying."
"Tell them I said hi," Izhaan shot back with a smirk.
Finally, it was Darakhsha's turn to leave. She adjusted her backpack and looked at him.
Their eyes met for a moment—quiet, warm, and just long enough to say something without words. Neither of them needed to speak. They just smiled at each other.
"Bye," she said softly.
"Hmm," he nodded with the faintest curve of his lips. "See you."
And then she turned, walking away with Kashish while the streetlamps flickered to life behind her.
Izhaan stood at the gate for a moment longer, hands in his pockets, before turning around and heading back home, a strange lightness in his steps he didn't quite understand.
Night fell gently over the city, spilling shadows across rooftops and quiet rooms.
In her room, Darakhsha sat cross-legged on her bed, the soft white moonlight slipping in through the curtain's edge. Her room was silent, save for the slow ticking of the small clock beside her pillow.
She held a pen in her hand, her diary lying open in her lap. The light from her bedside lamp bathed the pages in gold.
She had written many lines that evening—scattered thoughts, funny moments from the day, Akshat's whining, Kashish's cookie hoarding, and that group study madness that somehow ended up feeling… warm.
"His sister said to me that I looked cute… but she was very cute too. Alike siblings…"
She smiled faintly at her own handwriting.
Then, slowly, she closed the diary.
She looked up at the ceiling, her fingers brushing the edge of the page as if to seal that moment in time. Something was changing… quietly… and she wasn't sure what it was yet.
But it felt real.