ECLIPSA

The classroom was loud in the way new beginnings always are—chaotic, careless, and still unaware of their own limits.

Students talked over one another, chairs scraped against the floor, and the air buzzed with restless energy.

At the front of the room stood a boy with calm confidence.

“Good morning, everyone. I am Abhishay, your class president.”

There was something about the way he carried himself—steady, composed, almost arrogant—as if the room already belonged to him.

A student from the middle row raised his head.

“Abhishay? Are you Hindu?”

“Yes, I am,” Abhishay replied without hesitation.

He continued as if nothing had happened.

“I’ll take attendance first. After that, you’re free to leave.”

A boy from the back leaned forward.

“Why are you taking attendance? Where are the teachers?”

Abhishay didn’t even blink.

“Who cares?”

The answer earned a few chuckles.

Another boy smirked and called out loudly.

“Hey, President. Become our puppet. We’ll set your life.”

The class burst into laughter.

Abhishay glanced at him with an unreadable expression.

“Then by that logic, you should become mine.”

The boy frowned.

“What?”

Abhishay’s voice remained calm.

“Because I’m the class president. I can set your life.”

The laughter grew louder.

Someone muttered from the side, “He just insulted you.”

Ignoring everyone, Abhishay lowered his gaze to the attendance sheet and began calling names.

One by one, students responded.

Then he paused.

His eyes stopped on a particular name.

“Eclipsa…”

Silence.

No response.

He looked up.

“Eclipsa? Like eclipse? Who is that?”

The room reacted instantly.

Laughter exploded from every corner.

“Wow, we even have an eclipse in our class!”

“Careful, soon we’ll get stars and moons too!”

A boy named Erick stood on his bench dramatically.

“Miss Eclipse? Eclipse? Anyone here?”

“Erick, get down,” someone ordered.

But the damage had already been done.

In the far corner of the room, Eclipsa sat silently.

She hadn’t spoken since entering the classroom.

Now every laugh, every voice, every stare felt like it was pressing against her.

She could feel it—

Eyes.

Laughter.

Attention.

Everything she hated.

Her chest tightened.

Slowly, she stood up.

Without saying a single word, she walked out of the classroom.

Some time later, the homeroom teacher entered.

The room gradually quieted down.

“Good morning, students. I am Emily, your homeroom teacher. For the first four semesters, you will remain under my supervision. After that, you will be divided according to your departments.”

A student raised his hand.

“Ma’am, we’re medical students. Why are we studying arts and philosophy? Are we supposed to treat patients with drawings?”

The classroom erupted in laughter.

Emily remained calm.

“This is an international university. We have medical, arts, and business departments. Basic subjects are necessary for coordination, communication, and broader understanding.”

A boy leaned back in his chair, unimpressed.

“This university is useless.”

A girl’s voice cut through the room.

“That’s why people say you should properly research a place before taking admission.”

The boy turned sharply.

“Who said that?”

“You should’ve read the prospectus before coming here.”

His expression darkened.

“You think you’re very intelligent?”

The girl didn’t flinch.

“No. You’re just a little too foolish.”

The class fell silent.

She continued coolly.

“That’s why you ask useless questions and waste everyone’s time.”

“Students. Enough,” Emily said firmly.

Before anything else could happen, the bell rang.

Class was over.

Emily gathered her things and left.

Instantly, the room returned to chaos.

That boy stood up and walked toward Maha. Without warning, he knocked her bag to the floor.

Two girls immediately stepped in beside her. Ash and Jasmine.

“Don’t you have any manners? Is this how you talk to girls?” Ash snapped.

“Look at her face. She looks like a villager,” the boy sneered.

Maha stepped forward.

“What do you want? This is between him and me.”

“Stay away,” the boy warned.

One of his friends laughed as he arrived. “If any girl complains, you’ll get a warning letter in your very first semester. Chill.”

Another yawned. “Come on, I’m hungry. Let’s go.”

“I didn’t even say anything,” Maha muttered.

“You’re the one starting trouble,” the boy said.

Within moments, his friends pulled him away. The tension dissolved—not resolved, just abandoned mid-air and replaced with noise again.

From a distance, Eclipsa had seen everything.

She didn’t move. Didn’t intervene. Didn’t look away either.

Something quiet formed in her mind.

How sharp… like a lioness.

“Why are you smiling?” a voice asked suddenly.

Eclipsa flinched. “Me? No…”

“I’m Maha,” the girl said.

“I’m Ash,” said another.

“And I’m Jasmine.”

Eclipsa looked at them, processing slowly. “Are you three friends?”

“No,” Ash replied. “We just met.”

“Then why did you help her?” Eclipsa asked.

Maha tilted her head. “Do you need permission to help someone?”

Eclipsa didn’t answer immediately.

“I’m Eclipsa,” she said at last.

“Eclipsa?” Maha repeated. “Like Eclipse?”

Then, more directly, she asked, “Who gave you that name?”

Eclipsa frowned. “That’s a strange question.”

A brief silence settled.

“Oh—sorry,” Maha said quickly. “I didn’t mean it badly. It’s a beautiful name.”

Eclipsa didn’t know what to say to that.

Maha smiled. “Now we’re four friends.”

“We should make a group,” Ash added.

“Core 4,” Jasmine decided.

Eclipsa looked down for a moment.

In her mind, she corrected it quietly.

Core 4… no. Core 3 and Eclipsa. The extra one. Me.

“Hey,” Ash said, snapping her out of it. “Stop thinking so much. Come eat.”

“I brought my tiffin,” Eclipsa replied.

“Wow,” Ash said. “You made it yourself?”

“No. My mom did.”

“Lucky,” Jasmine said. “Our mothers barely have time for anything.”

After eating, they stepped outside together.

A thought struck Eclipsa suddenly.

I don’t even have money.

It wasn’t just money. There was a distance between her and them. They moved freely, laughed easily, and made plans like the world was wide open.

Her life wasn’t like that.

Not rich. Not poor enough to be free of expectations. Just controlled. Carefully arranged. Like a life placed behind invisible glass.

“Lost in thoughts?” Maha asked.

Eclipsa blinked. “You guys go ahead. I don’t feel like going out.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” Ash protested. “Come with us.”

“I can’t,” Eclipsa said quickly. “My mom told me—home to university, university to home.”

“Then who’s going to tell her?” Jasmine said.

“No,” Eclipsa replied firmly. “That would be wrong.”

Maha stepped in. “Enough. If she doesn’t want to come, don’t force her. We’ll be back soon, Eclipsa.”

“Alright… thank you.”

“She’s such a strict mama’s girl,” Ash muttered as they left.

Later, Eclipsa went to the library.

It was crowded—mostly students, mostly boys: low noise, constant movement.

Her heartbeat increased.

The first time in a co-educational space like this felt like stepping into unfamiliar terrain.

She accidentally bumped into someone.

Books slipped from her hands.

“Sorry,” she muttered quickly, bending down.

The boy in front of her also helped pick them up.

His eyes paused on the name written on the cover.

“Eclipsa?”

He looked up. “So you’re the one.”

Something in her snapped into alertness.

“Yes, I am. So what? What will you do about it?” she said sharply.

The boy’s gaze stayed steady.

“Sparkle Doom,” he said.

“What?” Her voice tightened. “What are you saying?”

“Stay away from me.”

She straightened abruptly and walked out of the library.

“Excuse me… can you tell me the way to the accounts office?”

“Yes, from here take a right. Second room.”

“Okay, thank you.”

She walked away quickly.

Her steps were hurried, uneven—like she was trying to escape the moment before it could settle in her mind. Her heartbeat was louder than it should’ve been, echoing in her chest with every step.

She had spoken more today than she usually did. More than she planned to. For someone like her—an introvert who carefully measured every interaction—it felt unusual… almost unreal.

And yet, it wasn’t anything big.

Just a direction. Just a few words.

But for her, even small moments like this didn’t stay small for long.

She walked away quickly, her footsteps sharp and hurried. Her heartbeat was still fast, echoing in her chest like it didn’t want to calm down. Today, she had been unusually social—too social for someone like her. For an introvert, even this small interaction felt like a milestone… or maybe just the beginning of something she couldn’t yet name.

As soon as she left, she went straight back to class. Half an hour passed, and nothing had happened; the usual routine swallowed the moment whole.

Then, the classroom door opened.

She entered.

The same girl who had given her directions earlier.

She slowed near the door, as if the decision to enter properly came a second late. Then she continued forward, steady this time, until she stopped near Eclipsa’s desk.

“Hey,” she said softly, “you helped me earlier… thank you.”

Her voice was calm, but there was a slight hesitation underneath it—like she wasn’t fully used to starting conversations first.

Eclipsa looked up.

For a brief moment, she didn’t respond. Not because she didn’t hear, but because she was processing it—her expression controlled, but her mind already moving faster than her words.

Then she gave a small, careful nod.

“It’s okay,” Eclipsa replied quietly.

Simple. Minimal. Safe.

The girl stayed there for a second longer than necessary, as if deciding whether to say something more. Then she moved to find a seat nearby.

And just like that, the space between them didn’t disappear—but it also didn’t stay the same.

She paused slightly, then turned her head.

“My department? Psychology.”

She said it simply, like it was not a big deal.

Then after a beat, she added, “What about you?”

Her eyes stayed on Eclipsa, waiting—not forcing, just observing.

“EMT.” Tilted her head slightly.

“EMT?” she repeated, more clearly this time. “Emergency Medical Technology?”

She was trying to confirm, not correct.

A moment of silence followed as she waited for Eclipsa’s answer, the classroom noise continuing around them like a background blur. “Right… emergency medical technologist.”

Her voice stayed even, but there was a slight shift in her gaze—like she was seeing Eclipsa a little differently now.

“That sounds intense.”

She didn’t overstate it—only a simple observation.

A small pause followed.

She adjusted the chair beside Eclipsa’s desk but didn’t sit immediately. Instead, she stood there for a second, hands loosely by her side, as if deciding how long she was allowed to stay in this space. Florence exhaled lightly, a small realization crossing her face.

“Hey… we talked so much, and I didn’t even ask your name.”

A brief pause.

“By the way, my name is Florence.”

Her gaze stayed on Eclipsa, steady but calm, as she waited for a response without pushing the moment forward.

“Eclipsa,” she said quietly

Florence gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

“Cool,” she replied.

No extra words followed.

“You don’t really have to force anything,” she said calmly. “Just say what comes naturally.”

A small pause followed.

“What”?

“It’s just that my name is weird.” Florence looked at her for a moment, then shook her head slightly.

“No,” she said, without hesitation. “Your name isn’t weird.”

A brief pause followed.

“It’s special….

The rest of the group arrived.

Ash was the first to notice Florence. “Wow, Eclipsa,” she teased, eyes flicking between them, “you made another new friend already? Weren’t the three of us enough?”

“No, it’s not like that,” Eclipsa replied quickly.

Florence stepped forward with effortless brightness. “Hi, everyone. I’m Florence. I’m new here. It’s really nice to meet you all.”

Ash blinked, then laughed. “Girl, everyone here is new. It’s the first semester.”

“Oh… right,” Florence said, smiling at herself.

Maha observed her for a moment, then smiled faintly. “You’re interesting. This is going to be fun.” She tilted her head slightly. “Want to join us?”

“Sure, why not?” Florence replied without hesitation.

A brief pause settled, like the group silently adjusting itself to a new shape.

Eclipsa exhaled, almost smiling. “Then it’s officially Core Five now.”

“True,” they agreed, almost in unison.