Farra meet Dalmakhni

Chapter :1

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Somewhere in Chhattisgarh

Nishtha's POV

I was sitting right in the middle of the classroom, The morning assembly had already drained whatever little patience I had left, and now this , the hour I disliked the most . The teacher stood near the green-black board, chalk scratching against it , writing some theories that were supposed to shape our future—but all I could hear was the faint screech of chalk and the hum of my own thoughts growing louder by the second.

I stared at the board, but I wasn't really seeing it. The green surface slowly stopped being a board in my mind and turned into something - It reminded me of fresh grass after rain, wide open and inviting. I imagined tiny barefoot children running across it, laughing freely, falling down, getting back up again without worrying about marks, attendance, or expectations. My lips curved into a faint smile without me even realizing it. I wondered how peaceful it would be to lie down on that grass, to close my eyes and let the world pause for just a moment.

My notebook lay open in front of me, pages painfully blank except for a few careless doodles at the corners.

Suddenly, the teacher's voice cut through the air, sharp and demanding.

"Nishtha," she said, "Explain this theory."

For a second, the name didn't even register.I was still lost somewhere between green fields

"Nishtha," she repeated, louder this time.

I blinked. Once. Twice. My heart skipped, then began to race. Slowly, the classroom came back into focus

"Nishtha!" she shouted now.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My mind was blank.

"I... I—" I, my voice barely audible.

The teacher sighed, disappointment lining his face, and just as she was about to say something that would probably stay with me longer than the lesson itself, the voice -

"May I come in, mummah i mean mam?" a soft, hesitant voice asked.

Every head in the classroom turned at once,

the sudden shift of attention making the air feel heavier than before. The teacher's expression changed the moment she realized who stood at the door, her jaw tightening in a way that felt far more personal than professional.

"Adira," she snapped sharply, her voice echoing against the walls, "how many times have I told you about punctuality?"

The room went silent. No whispers. No giggles. Everyone knew. —our strict Class teacher was Adira's mother. And somehow, that made things worse for her, not better.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Adira said softly, eyes lowered, her voice calm but tired.

"Sorry doesn't fix discipline," her mother replied sternly. "Get out of the class. You are not allowed to enter before the lunch break."

She didn't roll her eyes or try to explain. She simply hummed a quiet, almost defeated "okay," turned around, and stepped outside, standing near the wall with her bag hanging loosely from her shoulder.

She didn't look back even once.

I watched her from my seat, my fingers curling against the edge of the bench.

The class went on as if nothing had happened. Time dragged. But my focus had already followed Adira outside the room.

When the bell finally rang for lunch break, the sound felt like relief crashing into my chest. Without thinking twice, I stood up and walked straight toward her, weaving past benches until I reached the doorway where she stood, pretending to be unbothered.

"Why were you late?" I asked gently, my voice low .

She looked at me, then scoffed softly,. "You won't believe this," she said, shaking her head. "Mummah herself told me in the morning to switch off the motor when it is full and not come to schooltill it is done .. I was literally doing what she asked. That's why I got late."

She paused, then added bitterly, "And still, she threw me out. Don't worry wait till I reach home. I'm definitely telling her everything."

I laughed quietly, . "Leave it," I said, nudging her arm lightly. "Teachers get stressed too. She probably had a lot on her mind."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're defending her now?"

"Not defending," I replied with a shrug. "Just saying... come on. Let's go roam around. As if we ever eat lunch properly anyway."

She nodded instantly, the tension easing from her shoulders. "True. What's even the point of food?"

We walked back into the classroom together to As soon as we reached my place , she stopped abruptly.

And then—thud.

She lightly smacked the back of my head.

"Ow what was that for?" I protested, rubbing my head dramatically.

She stared at the seat beside me, where another girl's bag rested comfortably. Her eyes narrowed, mock-offended. She clapped her hands together sarcastically. " WAAH SHAMPYY WAAHHH! , I'm late for five minutes and you've already changed the whole party?"

I blinked, then burst out laughing. "Are you mad? She came and sat on her own. I even told her that you'd be coming back and she should move, no tension at all."

She didn't say anything for a second, just looked at me then turned away with a dramatic sigh. I picked up the other girl's bag immediately and carried it to the next bench, placing it carefully.

"There," I said. "Problem solved."

Adira's lips curved into a small smile. She kept her bag right beside mine, the familiar comfort returning to its place like it always did. No apologies needed. Just understanding.

Without saying anything else, we turned and walked out of the classroom together, side by side, our steps falling into a quiet rhythm.

The corridor outside felt louder , footsteps, and the smell of lunch .

Sunlight slipped in through the long windows.

We didn't speak at first. There was no hurry to fill the silence.

"Why didn't Iyana come today?" I asked casually, though I already had a feeling I knew the answer.

Adira let out a soft laugh, the kind that carried both amusement and familiarity. "She's absentpaglu , i***t," she said, nudging my shoulder lightly. "She's probably lying at home buried in books. You remember how hard it was for her to even reach seventy-five percent attendance in tenth grade, right?"

I groaned dramatically. "Ugh, don't remind me. She really is impossible."

"She's hopeless," I muttered, half-laughing.

She glanced at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Exactly.."

Somewhere in Punjab

Author's POV

The afternoon sun hung stubbornly above the school ground, pouring its heat onto the dry grass and the restless boys scattered across it .

The ground echoed with whistles, shoes scraping against soil, and the sharp, commanding voice of coaches .

Avyaan, completely done with life at this point, leaned heavily onto Aarvik's shoulder, his entire body sagging as if his bones had quietly decided to resign.

"I'm exhausted," he muttered dramatically, voice rough with breathlessness. "That i***t Treyaksh has already made us run fifteen rounds, and I swear, if he makes me do even one more, I'm going to break his head .. I really thought being his friend would mean less torture, but no—that dog makes us run more than everyone else on the ground."

Avyaan slid further down, resting his head against Aarvik's, Aarviks chin awkwardly perched on top of Avyaan's hair, eyes half-closed, clearly using him as a human pillow without permission.

Aarvik didn't move. He just sighed, but didn't push him away either. There was a quiet understanding between them—

They sat there in the middle of the field, surrounded by noise and movement, yet somehow existing in their own exhausted bubble.

Before either of them could say anything else, a sudden sharp kick landed on Aarvikn's back.

Aarvik barely reacted, lifting his head just enough to complain lazily, "Avyaan, look at this. I'm letting you rest on me like a good friend, and you're hitting me?"

Avyaan finally stirred, turning his head slightly, brows knitting together in confusion. "What are you talking about? You're the one heating on me. Don't lie."

They stared at each other for a second, too tired to even argue properly.

That's when Treyaksh lost whatever patience he had left.

He kicked both of them at once, not hard enough to hurt, but definitely hard enough to offend.

"I swear," Aarvik groaned, straightening up slowly, rolling his shoulders. He turned to Avyaan with mock seriousness and whispered, "I'm going to kill you . One day. Not today—today I don't have the energy."

Treyaksh folded his arms, glaring at them like a disappointed captain "I'm warning you both," he said sharply. "If I see you sitting down again, I'll make you do ten extra rounds."

Both boys groaned in unison but stayed where they were, trying to look upright and obedient.

Treyaksh continued, his voice lowering, more controlled now, but heavier. "There's an inter-school cricket competition in two weeks. And if you two keep doing this lying around, fooling off people will start saying I'm showing favoritism because you're my friends. I won't have that."

He paused, his eyes flickering briefly with something softer before hardening again.

"Stand up properly. Right now."

Something in his tone made them listen.

Avyaan straightened first, wincing slightly, stretching his legs, while Aarvik followed, brushing dust off his shorts. Neither of them complained this time.

They knew Treyaksh wasn't just shouting for the sake of it. He cared about the team, about the game, about them even if his care came wrapped in shouting and endless rounds.

As they began jogging again, slower now, matching each other's pace, Avyaan leaned slightly toward Aarvik and murmured, "After this, I'm not talking to him for at least five minutes."

Aarvik let out a tired laugh. "Five minutes? That's generous."

They ran on, feet pounding the ground, lungs burning .