It was Culture Day, and every corner had been transformed into a patch of India—tiny stalls showing off food, outfits, crafts, and accents from every state. Flags fluttered, kids ran around in ethnic clothes, and dhol beats from the Punjab stall competed with Garhwali folk songs playing from a small Bluetooth speaker.
Ryu adjusted her silver bangles as she made her way through the crowd. She wore a traditional Pahadi ghaghra, pure white with red borders, and silver jewellery that jingled softly with every step. Her dupatta danced in the wind like it belonged in an old folk tale.
And then she saw him.
Rey—leaning against the Uttarakhand stall, dressed in a crisp white churidar, deep green woolen waistcoat, and a proper Kumaoni cap tilted slightly to the side. His jawline looked sharper than ever. His stare? Calm. Intense. Secretive.
Ryu blinked. Why does he look like a mafia prince from the hills?
"Didi!!" Anika's high-pitched voice pulled her back.
Ryu turned to see Anika Singh Kashyap rushing toward her in a vibrant red frock with mirror embroidery and a mini jhumka bouncing in each ear. Right behind her was Aarav Singh Kashyap, with a fake mustache and a stolen Rajasthani safa he had snatched from a stall for 'drip.'
"Look at Bhaiya," Anika whispered dramatically, "acting all serious like some Garhwali don."
Aarav burst out laughing. "He's even saying words like bhula and tu bhandi lagdi chha now. One Culture Day and he thinks he's some pahadi movie hero."
Ryu giggled, covering her mouth. Rey gave his siblings a warning look but didn't interrupt.
"Come with us, didi," Anika tugged her wrist. "We're taste-testing every state!"
Just then, Maya walked up, bouncing slightly in her shiny Punjabi salwar suit, the chunni tied like a warrior sash across her shoulder. "Oye hoye!" she said. "Pahadi queens, step aside—the real mirchi is here!"
Kabir appeared right after, spinning in his Rajasthani angrakha and turban. "Please! Don't melt the tandoor, Maya. Also, Jai Rajasthan!"
With him was the ever-serious, royal-styled Avyan Pratap Singh, looking like he walked out of a historical film set. His bandh-gala was stitched with golden thread, his posture straight, and his accent crisp.
"Why is no one greeting the Maharaja?" Aarav joked, bowing with dramatic flair.
Avyan rolled his eyes. "Because the Maharaja is considering exile."
Everyone burst into laughter.
They made their way stall to stall:
At Punjab, Maya made everyone do one round of bhangra.
At Rajasthan, Kabir made them try dal baati churma—Aarav sneakily pocketed two churmas for later.
At Uttarakhand, Rey silently handed out jhangora kheer samples while Anika loudly shouted, "Only eat it if you can handle mountain magic!"
Ryu watched Rey with curiosity. He rarely talked. But when he passed her a bowl of kheer, his fingers brushed hers.
"You're enjoying?" he asked softly.
She nodded. "You look like a Kumaoni mafia."
He blinked. "What?"
"Nothing," she said quickly, hiding her grin.
Later, they all sat under the tree near the sports field, surrounded by half-eaten food, wrappers, water bottles, and loud banter.
Kabir challenged Aarav to a paper plane contest.
Anika braided Maya's hair and threatened to add glitter.
Ryu leaned back and sighed. "Best school day ever."
Rey was silent beside her. But then, without a word, he slid a small envelope into her lap.
A plain brown card.
Inside, scribbled in rough black ink:
"You looked like the hills I once knew—beautiful, wild, and untouchable."
Ryu stared at the words.
And for the first time in a long time—
—she didn't feel distant from him.
She felt seen.