Aryan and Rahul were walking down the corridor toward their class.
Rahul was saying something, but Aryan was only half-listening.
— Just then, voices started echoing from inside.
Some boys were laughing loudly, some girls' whispers floated in the air.
The classroom's atmosphere was spilling out into the hallway.
Rahul pointed toward the door—
"Looks like the classroom is a fairground again today."
Aryan pressed a faint smile and quietly stepped ahead.
The moment the door opened, the noise dimmed for a second, and many eyes turned toward them.
Two girls sitting near the window whispered—
"Hey… isn't he the same guy everyone's been talking about?"
The other looked carefully and smirked—
"Yeah… up close he looks even more handsome."
Another girl behind them giggled—
"OMG… look at his confidence, as if the class belongs to him."
Hearing this, the spoiled rich boys sitting nearby looked clearly annoyed.
One of them pushed his chair back and mocked—
"Trying to act like a hero… let's see how long that lasts."
The whole atmosphere suddenly grew intense.
The girls' curious stares, the boys' jealousy, and Aryan's indifferent face—
every moment of the class started to revolve around him.
The classroom was still buzzing with whispers and laughter.
But amid all this chaos, one girl sat quietly by the window, gazing at the sky—
as if searching for something lost.
Her long black hair swayed gently in the breeze. Bangles jingled on her wrist, and a faint smile lingered on her lips.
And then—Aryan's eyes fell on her.
Time seemed to pause for a heartbeat.
Aryan couldn't believe his eyes.
The one he had loved more than anything in this world…
the one whose death had left his heart lifeless—
today she stood alive before him.
It felt as if God had given him another life, another purpose—
just to reach her again.
Aryan could no longer control his emotions. His heart was pounding fast—
every beat singing her name.
His eyes glistened with a faint moisture, but his lips carried a smile.
A thousand emotions swam through his gaze.
Just then, the girl turned—and their eyes met.
The entire room fell silent for a breath.
But in the very next moment, she lowered her gaze and turned back to her book.
Aryan, still staring at her, realized—
this was the day… the very first day he had seen Myra.
But it also meant—Myra didn't know him.
For her, this was the first meeting.
For Aryan, it was the most unforgettable memory of his life.
The thought stung him, as if someone had quietly pierced his soul.
But he took a deep breath and steadied himself.
He vowed silently—
"Even if she doesn't recognize me in this life… I won't let her slip away this time."
Lost in emotions, Aryan's lips unknowingly whispered a name—
"Myra…"
The voice was so soft that only Rahul, standing beside him, heard it.
Rahul blinked, then looked at him in surprise.
"Myra? Who's that, bro?" Rahul whispered curiously.
Aryan jolted, quickly lowered his eyes, almost afraid of his own words. His throat went dry, and he said nothing.
Rahul grew even more puzzled, but with the classroom noise around, he couldn't ask further.
Aryan, however, was still looking at the girl by the window—
as if his heart had already decided she was his entire world.
And then the bell rang.
With the ringing sound, the atmosphere shifted.
Students rushed back to their seats, and in moments, the noise dissolved into silence.
Rahul smirked at Aryan, who still stood frozen, and teased—
"Aryan bro… planning to stand here forever, or will you move?"
Aryan felt a little embarrassed.
He inhaled deeply, gathered courage, and stepped forward.
His eyes naturally drifted toward the empty seat… right beside Myra.
His heartbeat quickened, but he dared to walk over and sat down.
For a moment, it felt as if that seat wasn't just a seat, but destiny's own design.
And just then—
the classroom door opened, and the teacher entered.
At once, everyone straightened up in their places.
The rustle of pages filled the room.
Students pulled out their books.
Aryan too opened his bag and took out his book.
Myra, at the same time, placed hers on the desk.
Aryan's gaze, unknowingly, drifted toward her—her face glowing with innocent concentration.
A faint smile touched his lips.
But then… something happened Aryan hadn't expected.
Myra, sitting right next to him, searched inside her bag.
Notebook, diary—everything appeared. But the one thing she needed wasn't there.
Her brows knit softly. She checked again, but the result was the same. No pen.
She looked hopefully at her friends, but they were too busy giggling and whispering.
No one noticed her problem.
She sighed softly and raised her eyes—straight into Aryan's.
Aryan's face was tense, sweat shining on his temples.
His eyes were already fixed on her, as if lost in another world.
And then, he heard her gentle voice—
bringing him back to reality with a jolt.
"Excuse me… do you have a pen? I forgot mine at home."
Aryan's heart pounded wildly.
He fumbled inside his bag, stammering—
"Y-Yeah… here."
His hands trembled so much that even holding the pen felt difficult.
Myra took it and smiled—
"Thanks. Seems like you get nervous very easily."
Aryan's cheeks flushed red.
He couldn't say a word, only managed a faint smile.
Not that he didn't want to speak—his words were stuck in his throat.
She looked at him with those same innocent, sparkling eyes that had once colored his whole world.
"By the way, your name…?"
Aryan took a deep breath.
"Aryan."
She smiled.
"Nice name." And she opened her book.
For Aryan, time froze again.
The rest of the class blurred into a haze.
Rahul nudged him and whispered—
"Bro… why are you freaking out? She just asked for a pen, not a wedding proposal."
Aryan tried to compose himself, but didn't respond.
Inside, his heart was torn between their first meeting and their last farewell—when Myra had taken her final breath in his arms.
Meanwhile, the teacher continued writing on the board.
Time passed… but Aryan's attention remained only on Myra.
---
The bell rang.
Students rushed out noisily.
Myra too left with her friends.
Aryan kept watching her retreating figure.
His fists clenched tightly.
He looked up at the sky and whispered—
"Last time, I lost you. But this time… no matter what, I won't let you go."
There was no fear in his eyes now—only determination.
God had given him a second chance.
And this time, he would play the game—but by his own rules.
---
Later, Aryan entered the canteen.
The crowd was loud—
the smell of fries, the steam of tea, the endless chatter of students.
Aryan sat at a corner table.
The samosas on his plate had grown cold, but his eyes kept scanning the crowd.
And then—she walked in.
Myra, laughing with her friends, her bangles jingling, her smile lighting up the entire canteen.
Aryan's breath caught.
He whispered—
"Last time I lost you… but not this time."
Myra and her friends sat at a nearby table.
Juices and snacks arrived at their side.
Aryan kept stealing glances at her.
Just then, a boy carrying a tray slipped in the crowd.
Cold coffee spilled—right toward Myra.
It was about to splash on her dress when suddenly… Aryan stood up, grabbed the tray, and steadied it.
The coffee spilled over his own hands, burning hot, but Myra's dress was safe.
She gasped, then her eyes sparkled with gratitude.
"Oh… Thank you! My whole day would've been ruined."
Aryan smiled faintly.
"No problem… I'm used to saving things."
Myra raised a brow.
"Used to it? You mean you save people's coffee every day?"
Her friends burst out laughing.
Aryan smiled too, though inside his pulse raced.
For him, this wasn't just a coffee accident—it was destiny's first push, bringing him closer to her.
Myra picked up her juice, then turned back with a playful smile—
"By the way… you're used to bearing pain, aren't you?" She glanced at his reddened hand.
"Keep some ice on it, or it'll burn."
Aryan looked at his hand, then at her fading steps.
A deep smile spread across his face.
"The burn is already there… but this time, I won't let it fade—I'll endure it."
---
So what happens next?
Will Aryan and Myra's tragic love story take a new turn?
Will Aryan succeed in making her his once again?
Stay tuned for The King of Shadows. With me, Nitish Chandel.