The door clicked shut behind them, cutting off the outside noise in an instant.
Sagnik's room settled into its usual quiet—dim light filtering through the window, a slightly cluttered desk, books stacked in uneven logic, a chair that looked like it had given up trying to be straight.
Aanya had already claimed the beanbag.
Shoes off.
One leg tucked under her.
Phone tossed aside without ceremony.
As if she had been there many times before and didn't need permission from the space.
Sagnik placed his bag near the table and pulled out the Ludo board.
He didn't have to ask.
Aanya was already watching.
"Finally," she said. "I was starting to think you forgot the rules of winning."
"I haven't even started playing."
"That's your first mistake."
He sat opposite her on the floor and unfolded the board between them.
Aanya leaned forward immediately.
"Rules," she said.
Sagnik glanced up.
"You're serious?"
"Very."
"About Ludo?"
"About winning."
He exhaled slightly.
"Go ahead."
"No teaming. No mercy kills. No emotional manipulation."
"I don't do emotional manipulation in Ludo."
Aanya tilted her head.
"That's what someone who does emotional manipulation in Ludo would say."
"That makes no sense."
"It makes emotional sense."
He didn't respond.
Which she took as agreement.
She picked up the dice first.
Of course she did.
Rolled.
"Six."
A slow smile spread across her face.
"I told you."
"You rolled once."
"Enough to establish dominance."
She placed her token down with exaggerated confidence, tapping it once on the board like it owed her something.
Sagnik rolled next.
Three.
Aanya leaned back immediately.
"Tragic start."
"It's one roll."
"It's your personality."
He ignored that.
The game began properly.
At first, it was exactly what Aanya expected it to be.
She moved fast.
Too fast.
Confident moves, immediate exits from base, unnecessary risks that somehow kept paying off.
She knocked one of Sagnik's tokens back early.
"Unlucky," she said.
"You didn't apologize."
"I did emotionally."
"That's not how apologies work."
"It is in relationships."
"We are not in a relationship."
A brief pause.
Aanya didn't react to that.
Just rolled again.
Six.
She smiled wider.
"See?"
Sagnik watched her quietly.
Not reacting.
Just observing the rhythm she created when she was ahead.
The way she leaned forward slightly when she was focused.
The way she spoke faster when she was winning.
The way confidence made her louder without her noticing it.
The game continued like that for a while.
Aanya in control.
Sagnik steady.
Neither rushing.
But the board slowly began shifting.
Not dramatically.
Just… subtly.
One of Aanya's tokens got sent back.
Then another.
She clicked her tongue.
"Okay," she said, still light, still amused. "That's fine."
Sagnik moved another token forward.
Silent.
Unrushed.
Aanya rolled again.
Four.
Not enough.
Her fingers tapped the edge of the board once.
Then stopped.
Reset.
Smiled again.
"Still fine."
Sagnik noticed the shift.
Not in her words.
In her timing.
She was thinking slightly longer now.
Still confident.
Just no longer careless.
The game tightened.
Less talking.
More watching.
Dice rolled.
Tokens moved.
Small wins.
Small losses.
Until the balance wasn't clearly hers anymore.
That was when she leaned forward again.
Properly this time.
"Okay," she said softly. "You're being annoying now."
"I'm playing."
"That's worse."
He didn't respond.
She rolled.
Six.
A small pause.
Then she exhaled slowly.
"Good."
She moved quickly again.
Reclaiming ground.
Not panicked.
Just focused.
Sagnik watched her carefully now.
Not the board.
Her.
Because this version of her was different.
Not less confident.
Just more intentional.
She wasn't letting the game happen to her anymore.
She was controlling it again.
Slowly.
Step by step.
One of Sagnik's tokens reached near home.
Aanya saw it immediately.
"No," she said.
"Yes," he replied.
"That one doesn't get to win."
"It already is."
"It's not allowed."
"That's not a rule."
"It is now."
She leaned in.
Rolled.
Five.
Not enough.
Her expression didn't change immediately.
Then she leaned back slightly.
"…okay."
Not disappointment.
Calculation.
Reset again.
The game continued like that.
Tighter now.
Every move mattered.
Aanya was no longer ahead.
But she wasn't behind either.
She was adapting.
Sagnik reached his final stretch first.
One token away from finishing.
Aanya saw it.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
That was the first time she stopped joking completely.
She rolled.
Six.
A pause.
Then she moved.
Cleanly.
Precisely.
Back into the game.
Sagnik watched her without speaking.
She rolled again.
Four.
Another clean move.
Silence now between them.
Not uncomfortable.
Just focused.
Final stretch.
Both players now close.
Too close.
Aanya leaned forward slightly.
One hand resting on the floor.
Eyes fixed.
Not smiling anymore.
Sagnik rolled.
Three.
Not enough.
Aanya didn't speak.
She rolled.
Five.
Her last token reached home.
A second of stillness.
Then she sat back slowly.
Breathing slightly heavier than before.
"…okay."
Sagnik looked at the board.
Then at her.
"You won."
Aanya stared at it for a second longer.
Then leaned back fully into the beanbag's edge.
"Obviously," she said.
But softer than before.
Less loud.
More real.
A pause settled between them.
Then she added:
"That was actually annoying."
A faint exhale escaped Sagnik.
Almost a laugh.
"You got nervous."
"I didn't."
"You did."
"I adjusted."
"That's the same thing."
Aanya pointed lazily at him.
"Don't ruin my victory with definitions."
He leaned back slightly too now.
"Fair."
A silence followed.
Not empty.
Just settled.
Aanya stretched her arms once.
Then glanced at him.
"Dinner is still yours."
"I remember."
"Good."
"And don't pretend I didn't almost lose."
A small beat.
Then Sagnik said:
"You didn't."
Aanya smiled.
"I know."
And she left it at that.