The town of Shillong woke slowly, its slumber disrupted only by the soft whisper of the wind weaving through the dense foliage. The hills stood shrouded in mist, their verdant peaks barely visible beneath the silver clouds. The air carried a crisp freshness, mingling with the scent of pine trees and wet earth as it meandered down the narrow streets.

Arnav awoke to the quiet hum of the morning, the golden light of dawn spilling gently through his curtains. He blinked, his eyes heavy with sleep, struggling to shake off the remnants of a dream that had felt too vivid, too real. He lay in bed for a moment, letting his mind drift back to it.

There was a girl in his dream—a fleeting figure, her features obscured by a haze of light. She had been standing in a field of sakura blossoms, the delicate petals swirling around her like snowflakes. As always, she had turned to look at him with eyes full of something—a sadness, perhaps? Hope? He couldn’t tell. And then, just as he had stepped closer, trying to reach out, the dream had slipped through his fingers, vanishing before he could understand what it all meant.

Arnav sat up with a groan, rubbing his eyes. He had been having this same dream for weeks, and each time, it left him with a nagging sense of longing. As if there was something he needed to know, something he was supposed to remember.

But it was only a dream.

Shaking off the last remnants of sleep, Arnav pushed himself out of bed and walked over to the window. He pulled back the curtains, letting the early morning light flood the room. The town below looked peaceful, almost serene. The mist hung low over the streets, curling like smoke, while the sun began to stretch across the sky, its warm glow casting long shadows on the cobblestone paths. It was the beginning of another day, but for Arnav, it felt like everything was standing still.

He sighed, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was a mess, his eyes dull with exhaustion. Another day, another routine. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for—maybe something beyond the ordinary, something to break the cycle of monotony.

Arnav dragged himself into his school uniform—a white shirt, navy trousers, and a tie he always struggled to knot properly—and headed downstairs. The aroma of freshly made parathas greeted him as he entered the kitchen. His mother, always the early riser, was already at the stove, humming softly as she flipped the parathas.

“Good morning, Arnav,” she said, not looking up from her work. “You're up early.”

He nodded, sliding into his usual seat at the table. His father sat across from him, his nose buried in the morning newspaper, his glasses perched at the edge of his nose.

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“You need to focus this year,” his father muttered without lifting his eyes. “10th grade is a turning point. You can’t waste your time on that... hobby of yours. It’s time to get serious.”

Arnav clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to respond. The conversation was all too familiar. His father never understood his love for animation—his sketches, his drawings, his passion for creating stories. To his father, it was all a waste of time. But Arnav didn’t care. This was what he loved, what kept him going.

His mother placed a plate of steaming parathas in front of him, giving him a gentle smile. “Let him be, Ravi. He knows what he’s doing.”

His father muttered something under his breath but didn’t press the issue. The conversation drifted to other matters, but Arnav’s mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t shake the feeling that today was important. That something was about to change.

Once breakfast was over, he grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and stepped outside. The cool air hit his face, refreshing but oddly empty. He could feel the weight of the day ahead—his first day of 10th grade. The start of a year that everyone seemed to think was going to be pivotal in his life. But to Arnav, it just felt like another year, another cycle to endure.

The walk to school was uneventful. The same narrow streets, the same small shops opening their doors, the same few people rushing to work. The world seemed to move around him, yet he felt detached from it all, as if he was merely a spectator to his own life.

As he approached the gates of his school, he spotted Sidhhanta leaning against the wall, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. Sidhhanta looked like he had just rolled out of bed, his hair still messy and his eyes half-lidded with the remnants of sleep.

“You’re not running late for once,” Siddhanta remarked as Arnav approached. “Is this a sign of maturity, or are you just trying to avoid your usual entrance?”

Arnav offered him a small, tired smile. “Something like that.”

Sidhhanta raised an eyebrow, sensing that something was off. “Alright, alright, whatever’s going on with you, I’ll let it slide for now. But this year, you better not slack off. 10th grade, man. You can’t be messing around.”

“Yeah, I know,” Arnav muttered. “Let’s just get to class.”

They entered the school together, the familiar chatter of students filling the air. The halls were buzzing with the energy of a new school year, but Arnav felt disconnected. His mind kept drifting back to the dream, to the girl he had seen time and time again, the girl who seemed so real yet so impossibly far away.

It wasn’t until they reached their classroom that Arnav’s world suddenly shifted.

She was there.

Sitting by the window, her head slightly tilted as she gazed out at the view. Her hair cascaded in soft waves down her back, and the sunlight seemed to cling to her, turning her into something ethereal. She didn’t notice him at first, lost in her own thoughts. But when she turned to look at him, their eyes met.

Arnav’s heart skipped a beat.

It was her. The girl from his dreams. The one he couldn’t stop thinking about, even though he had never seen her in real life before.

But now she was here. In his classroom. Right in front of him.

Her eyes widened for a moment as their gazes locked, and Arnav felt a jolt of recognition shoot through him. His breath caught in his chest, and for a moment, the world around him seemed to freeze.

She didn’t say anything, but her gaze softened, almost as if she knew exactly who he was. And just like that, the moment passed. She looked away, returning her attention to the window, leaving Arnav standing there, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and curiosity.

How could she be here? How could this be happening? Was it fate? Or was he simply losing his mind?

Before he could gather his thoughts, the teacher entered the room, calling everyone to attention. Arnav stumbled to his seat, his hands clammy, his mind racing with a thousand questions. But one thing was clear.

He had to know who she was.