~YAMINI~

I'm back guys with another chapter. Do vote and comment...✨🎀

𝓔𝓷𝓳𝓸𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓮𝓼 🌷

...

After the movie ended, reality gently crept back in.

We sat on the floor, surrounded by open books and notebooks, trying to focus on the next day’s lecture topics. The soft buzz of the ceiling fan filled the silence as our pens scratched against paper. Krutika quizzed me on a few lines of poetry while highlighting half the textbook in yellow.

But soon, the words started blurring. I let out a slow yawn, and she followed a second later.

“Okay,” she mumbled, shutting her book. “We’ve done enough adulting for one day.”

We climbed into our beds, switching off the lamp. The room went quiet—just the sound of faint hostel chatter in the distance and Mumbai’s midnight rhythm outside the window.

“Good night, Kru,” I whispered.

“Good night, Devaa.”

And just like that, we drifted off—two souls curled in safety, still unaware of how quickly that peace could shatter.

The next morning arrived wrapped in pale gold and promise. The air was crisp, birds chirped somewhere near the window, and for once, there was no tension in the room. Only the quiet rhythm of a fresh start.

Devikaa stretched lazily, her hair messy and eyes still half-closed.

"We survived our first full day," she murmured.

"Barely," Kritzy grinned, tying her hair into a messy bun. "But hey—no creepy calls, no Taniya. That's a win."

They got ready in their usual rhythm—music playing softly in the background, perfume mist in the air, and hurried gulps of cold coffee. Within half an hour, they were out the door, bags on their shoulders, laughter trailing behind them as they walked toward college.

The path to Block B took them through a quieter section of campus—lined with trees, unused classrooms, and an alley that most students ignored. It was usually peaceful.

But not today.

As they turned the corner, the silence cracked.

A girl’s voice—shaky, panicked.

“Please stop—leave me alone!”

Devikaa stopped in her tracks.

Kritzy’s face hardened immediately.

At the far end of the path, a group of three boys had cornered a girl no older than sixteen. Her dupatta was tangled, eyes wide with fear. One of the boys was laughing, another stood far too close, and the third reached for her wrist.

“HEY!” Devikaa’s voice echoed, sharp and unafraid.

All heads turned.

“What the hell are you doing?” krutika snapped, storming forward like a force of nature.

The boys froze—caught.

“She was just lost—” one muttered.

“And you thought ‘lost’ meant corner her like cowards?” Devikaa shot back.

They backed off quickly, murmuring nonsense before stumbling away, faces pale.

Devikaa rushed to the girl, while krutika kept an eye out in case they circled back.

“You’re safe now,” Devikaa said gently, crouching beside her. The girl’s eyes were still brimming with tears. She looked delicate, like she didn’t belong in the shadows of boys like that.

“What’s your name?”

“A-Anamika,” she whispered.

krutika handed her a tissue and water bottle. Devikaa held her hand the entire time, her voice calm, her words comforting.

What none of them knew was that someone had seen everything.

Aniruddh Malhotra, tall, sharp-jawed, dressed in black like he belonged to the shadows, stood at a distance—hidden by a column near the admin block. He had come to pick up his younger sister after her early orientation and was running late.

Until he saw… this.

Devikaa’s tone wasn’t pity—it was strength.

She didn’t panic, she protected.

She didn’t ask for attention—she gave it.

And for reasons he couldn’t explain, Aniruddh didn’t walk away.

He listened to her comfort his sister. Listened to how she told Anamika it wasn’t her fault. That people like that thrive on silence, and she was brave for speaking up.

But before he could step forward, before he could say a single word…

They were gone.

Devikaa and krutika helped Anamika to the nearest counselor’s room and slipped away without leaving a name.

But their voices lingered.

And in that moment, Aniruddh Malhotra knew two things:

One—someone had just changed his view of this world.

And two—he needed to find out who that girl was.

Aniruddh walked through the marble corridor of St. Aurora’s admin block with his usual silent confidence, but his thoughts weren’t calm. They kept circling back to that moment. Her voice. Her strength. The way she comforted his sister like she'd known her forever.

When he reached the counseling office, Anamika was sitting near the window, sipping from a paper cup, her eyes still a little red but steadier now.

“You okay?” he asked gently.

She looked up, smiled softly, and nodded.

“Better… thanks to those girls.”

He sat beside her, brows slightly furrowed.

“Do you know who they were?”

Anamika hesitated, visibly thinking.

“I… didn’t ask.” She winced. “I was too shaken. They left so fast.”

Aniruddh leaned back, gaze fixed ahead.

Of course she didn’t know. The girl who stood her ground, who didn’t flinch, who told his sister she was brave… vanished like smoke before he could even hear her name.

“You didn’t get anything? A name, course, hostel block?”

Anamika shook her head, frustrated. “Nothing. But... she had this vibe.”

She paused. “Not like the others here. Real. Kind of… powerful.”

Aniruddh stayed quiet.

But something shifted behind his eyes.

The campus was full of noise, ego, performance. But that girl wasn’t any of those things. She didn’t stand up for credit. She didn’t need recognition.

She just did the right thing.

And somehow, that haunted him more than if she’d stayed.

He would find her.

Not for gratitude.

But because someone like her doesn’t walk into your life—even briefly—without changing something.

Aniruddh wasn’t the kind of brother who overreacted.

But when it came to Anamika, there were lines no one crossed.

And someone had.

He stood outside the counseling room, fists clenched, jaw ticking. His mind wasn’t on lectures or emails—it was locked on the image of those boys crowding his little sister like she was prey.

He waited until he saw one of them—tall, smug, chewing gum and laughing near the back gate with the other two. Same clothes. Same attitude.

He didn’t think. He walked straight up.

“You three,” he said coldly.

The tallest one turned. “Yeah?”

Aniruddh didn’t yell. His voice was too quiet for that.

“Cornering a girl near the alley. That ring a bell?”

Their grins faltered.

“Chill, man,” one scoffed. “It was just—”

“A joke?” Aniruddh stepped in, eyes hard. “Try that again with someone who doesn’t have a brother.”

The tall one pushed forward. “Who even are you, dude?”

Aniruddh didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His presence alone made the threat obvious.

But just as the tension started to boil, a soft voice cut through it.

“Bhai.”

Anamika appeared beside him, placing a gentle hand on his wrist.

“Please. I told the counselor. They’ll be dealt with. Don’t make a scene.”

Aniruddh’s eyes didn’t leave the boys.

But after a long pause, he stepped back.

“You got lucky,” he muttered to them. “This time.”

The boys scattered quickly, laughing nervously but not making eye contact again.

Aniruddh turned to Anamika, still fuming beneath his calm.

“You sure you’re okay?”

She smiled. “I wasn’t alone, Bhai. I had angels looking out for me.”

He exhaled slowly.

“I know. I just wish I knew her name.”

And somewhere inside him, a promise began to form—

He would find her.

********

A week passed in the blink of an eye, yet somehow, everything felt slower.

St. Aurora’s was buzzing with its upcoming Cultural Showcase—a yearly celebration where students from all departments signed up for performances, exhibits, and creative expression. Posters were everywhere. Lights had started going up near the amphitheater. Rehearsals took over classrooms, and music spilled into the corridors like warm light.

One morning, as students crowded around the notice board, Devikaa quietly stepped forward, pen in hand.

Her name appeared under the "Solo Classical Dance" slot.

No one knew she was trained. She hadn’t spoken of it since she arrived in Mumbai. But something inside her had stirred—like a thread pulling her gently toward the stage again.

Krutika looked at the sheet and raised an eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

Devikaa shrugged, hiding her nerves under calm.

“It’s time.”

“O Re Piya? Of course it’s that song,” her best friend teased. “Emotional, haunting, elegant... totally you.”

Devikaa smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“It’s not for them. It’s for me.”

---

Devikaa spent the next few evenings in one of the unused dance practice rooms behind Block C. It had old wooden floors, a cracked mirror, and dust that floated like memory—but it was perfect.

She danced barefoot, her ghungroos tied tight around her ankles, each step echoing with grace and ache. Her arms moved like poetry, her face softened with expression, and her body bent in rhythm to the ache of the lyrics:

O re piya... Hayeee... O re piya.....

She wasn’t just dancing.

She was remembering.

She was reclaiming.

And while no one knew it, someone was trying to find her.

---

Aniruddh Malhotra leaned against a pillar near the student union office, scanning the bustling lawn. Groups passed by—laughing, rehearsing, gossiping—but none of them had her voice.

Since that day with Anamika, her face had stayed blurry in his memory. He hadn’t seen her—only heard her. That voice, soft but sure. That fire, hidden in gentleness.

He had walked the blocks. Sat through events. Checked out campus clubs—even attended the creative orientation once, thinking maybe she’d be into writing or poetry. Nothing.

And strangely, it wasn’t obsession driving him.

It was curiosity.

A pull.

But she remained invisible, like smoke that disappears just when you reach for it.

“Forget it,” he muttered to himself as he walked toward the amphitheater setup. “If it’s meant, it’ll happen.”

---

The night before the big event, the hostel was alive with energy. Rooms glowed with string lights, girls tried on outfits, and the sound of dhol from a Bhangra group echoed down the staircases.

Devikaa sat cross-legged on her bed, lightly oiling her hair in front of the mirror.

Her white lehenga hung by the window, ghungroos placed gently beside it. She had kept it simple. Elegant. No flashy sequins—just grace and silk and poise.

Her notebook lay open, lyrics scribbled across the page in her handwriting. She wasn’t nervous.

Not this time.

Because when she danced, the world melted away.

Krutika walked in, holding two cups of chai.

“For the future star of the evening,” she said, placing one beside Devikaa. “And for her underpaid, overworked hype girl.”

Devikaa chuckled. “You love it.”

“I live for it.” She paused. “You sure you’re ready for this? It’s a big crowd.”

“I’m not performing for them,” Devikaa whispered, eyes soft in the mirror. “I’m dancing for the girl I used to be.”

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So guys how was the chapter? Did you like?? Tell me in comments. ✨🦋

And don't forget to vote ofcourse.

And what do you think everyone would go normal?

Will Anii continue his search?

Byee for now see you in next chapter. Stay hydrated girlieesss 💅🎀