The bus gave a sleepy groan as it rolled down the narrow village road, its old engine coughing and rattling like it had just woken up. Dust curled behind it in the golden morning light. The seats creaked, windows shook—but it all felt cheerful, like the bus itself was humming a tune.
Ji-Ho sat near the middle, his small school bag on his lap and a shiny cricket bat poking out. The breeze from the half-open window made his hair messy. His heart beat fast—not because of the bumpy ride, but because it was his first day at his new school.
Two seats ahead sat a little girl with neat braids and a bright pink ribbon. Thanu. She was drawing in a small notebook, her tongue sticking out slightly as she focused. Even when the bus bounced, her pencil didn't wobble. When sunlight touched her face, her brown eyes sparkled like melted honey.
Ji-Ho looked for a second too long, then quickly turned away, pretending to fix his bag. Don't stare, he told himself. You'll look weird on the first day.
"Hey!" a voice chirped behind him.
He turned. A girl with short hair and a big grin was leaning over the seat. "You're new, right? I'm Ganga," she said proudly. "What's your name?"
"Ji-Ho," he said shyly.
"Ji-Ho!" she repeated, as if testing the name. "Cool. You look nervous."
"I'm not," he said, hugging his bag tighter.
"You're holding it like it's a kitten," she teased with a giggle. "Don't worry, no one bites here. Well… except maybe the bus driver when we're late."
Ji-Ho smiled a little. "I'm just… it's my first day."
Ganga nodded. "Then sit near me after school, okay? I'll show you where the canteen line starts—and ends."
The bus suddenly hit a big bump, and Ji-Ho's cricket bat slid into the aisle with a loud clunk.
"Uh-oh! Your bat's running away!" Ganga said, quickly grabbing it before it tripped someone. "Planning to play cricket in the bus?"
Before Ji-Ho could reply, a soft laugh came from the front. Thanu had turned around, smiling.
"Cricket already?" she said, her voice tiny but teasing. "School hasn't even started yet."
Ji-Ho blinked. "It just fell."
"Sure it did," Thanu said with a grin.
Ganga giggled. "He just really loves cricket!"
Ji-Ho rubbed the back of his neck. "I do. My dad taught me. I want to play when I'm big."
Thanu's eyes brightened. "My brother plays too! He says hitting a six feels like flying."
Ji-Ho nodded eagerly. "That's what I want to do someday!"
"First learn to keep your bat from falling," Ganga said, laughing.
All three of them giggled, and suddenly Ji-Ho didn't feel so shy anymore. The sound of the rattling bus mixed with their laughter, like a happy song.
Outside, green fields stretched forever—tall sugarcane, banana trees, and a scarecrow waving in the wind. The smell of wet soil and diesel floated in. Thanu closed her notebook and looked out the window.
"It's so pretty," she murmured.
Ji-Ho nodded. "It looks like the pictures in my storybook."
Ganga yawned. "It just looks hot to me."
"That's because you never wear your hat," Thanu said.
Another bump sent Thanu's pencil box sliding toward Ji-Ho's shoes. He picked it up quickly and held it out. "Here," he said.
"Thanks," she smiled. "You're nice."
Ji-Ho's face turned red. "You're welcome."
Ganga saw his blush but, for once, stayed quiet, smiling to herself.
The bus slowed as it neared the village stop. A few farmers waved from the fields. A cow mooed lazily near the fence. Sunlight poured through the dusty windows, warm and soft.
Thanu stood up, adjusting her braid. "This is my stop."
Ji-Ho jumped up too. "Mine too!"
Ganga stayed seated. "Okay! See you both at school! Don't forget to wave!"
The bus stopped with a hiss. Thanu stepped down first, Ji-Ho right behind her. Dust rose around their shoes as the bus drove away.
For a moment, they just stood there by the roadside. Birds chirped, and the morning air smelled like wet grass.
Thanu looked up at Ji-Ho. "You're funny."
He blinked. "Me? Why?"
"You dropped your bat, but you still look brave," she said, giggling.
Ji-Ho laughed softly. "Maybe the bus wanted to test me."
"Maybe," Thanu said, smiling. "See you at school, Ji-Ho!"
She waved and skipped down the path toward her house, her braid bouncing. Ji-Ho watched her go, feeling lighter somehow. The sun felt warmer, the sky wider.
From the distance, Ganga's voice echoed from the bus window:"Don't forget your bat, hero!"
Ji-Ho grinned, gripping the handle of his bat. The road ahead shimmered in sunlight.It was just a bus ride—but to Ji-Ho, it already felt like maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something unforgettable.