Rohit's eyes softened, and he let out a quiet, almost desperate plea. "Please..." His voice wavered as he searched Isha's face, hoping for something that could ease the turmoil inside him.
Isha, sensing the weight of his unspoken emotions, raised a hand to stop him from speaking further. Her gaze was steady, yet there was an underlying sadness in her eyes. "I understand why you don’t want me to get involved with Project M," she said, her voice calm but firm. "We all know it's still shrouded in mystery, and we all know how dangerous it is. But the scars of our life—the ones from 1.5 years ago—they're still haunting us, no matter how much we try to push them away."
She paused for a moment, her words carrying a weight that felt heavy on both of them. "Even though we’re Survivors, those scars are part of us now. And while I'm grateful that the president helped us, backed us when no one else would, just like you, I’m searching for answers. I need them too."
Isha took a deep breath, her expression softening as she spoke again, her voice gentle yet firm. "Rohit, I get it. We’ve all been through so much, and it's hard to face what comes next. But just like before, I need you to respect my decision," she said, locking eyes with him. "I'm choosing this path because I believe it’s the only way to find what we're all looking for—the truth, the closure, the answers that we all deserve."
Rohit, his face filled with concern, responded, "No matter what decisions you make, I will respect them. But still—"
Before he could finish, Isha cut him off, slipping back into her usual bossy nature. "Oh? Are you worried about my safety?" she teased, a smirk playing on her lips. "Don’t worry about it. I know you’ll protect me just like before." She then playfully nudged his shoulder. "And my dear troublemaker, stop overthinking and enjoy our last day at the campfire."
Rohit exhaled, then slapped both his cheeks with his hands to shake off the tension. "Fine, fine. You go ahead, I’ll join in a minute." But before she could walk away, his voice lowered slightly. "By the way, Isha… does anyone know about the secrets? Especially Ayaan… and the reason you were selected for Project M?"
Isha paused for a moment before shaking her head. "Nope," she said casually.
Rohit hesitated for a second, then let out a small sigh. "It's nothing," he muttered, forcing a faint smirk. "Go on, I’ll catch up in a minute."
As Rohit watched Isha walk toward the campfire, a familiar scene flickered through his mind—a memory of a time when he and his friends had once gathered around a similar fire, laughing and carefree. His chest tightened as the thought crossed his mind: If everything had been alright, maybe we’d be sitting together, enjoying this moment just like before.
His reflection was abruptly interrupted by Isha’s voice calling out to him. “Oi, Mr. Troublemaker! Stop daydreaming and get over here!”
Shaking off the momentary haze, Rohit walked toward the group, finding his usual place among them.
Dev smirked as he noticed Rohit lagging behind. “Finally! Took you long enough,” he teased before shifting his gaze to Isha. “Now, it’s your turn to sing.”
Rohit’s expression darkened. He knew why Dev was pushing Isha to sing—before that incident, Isha had always been the one to lead their songs. But after what happened, she had stopped. His instincts urged him to intervene, to warn her—
But before he could speak, Isha smiled and said, “Alright, I’ll sing.” She paused, glancing at Rohit before adding, “But only if we do it together.”
She then began the song, its title lingering in the air like an unspoken message: My Message .....
As her voice filled the night, Rohit hesitated for a moment before stepping forward and joining in. Their voices blended in harmony, weaving through the night like an unspoken conversation only they understood.
The moment was mesmerizing, and by the time the song ended, the rest of the group erupted into applause, completely unaware of the significance behind it.
Then, without warning, Isha reached for Rohit’s hand, intertwining their fingers before softly pressing a kiss to his hand. It was a bold, undeniable statement—one that answered the silent curiosity surrounding them.
As Ayaan listened to the song, a strange sense of familiarity washed over him. His eyes widened slightly as he realized—the lyrics began with the same words and ended the same way. It felt deliberate, as if carrying an unspoken message. His thoughts drifted, a quiet question forming in his mind:
When will I experience something like this? When will I understand what it truly means to feel this way?
***************************************************
In a dimly lit hostel hallway, a frustrated voice echoed through the corridors.
“Anaya! Where are you?”
A girl, her brows furrowed in mild irritation, glanced around before turning to her roommate. “Did you see Anaya anywhere?”
Her friend shook her head. “Nope. Maybe she’s on the rooftop?”
“Alright, let’s check.”
The rooftop was bathed in soft moonlight, a gentle breeze weaving through the night. There, standing alone beneath the vast sky, was a girl humming a tune, her eyes fixed on the moon with a quiet smile. The melody was faint, yet carried an undeniable warmth. As the song neared its end, her soft voice lingered on the final words:
"…to the moon."
The approaching girl stopped in her tracks, watching the lone figure under the night sky. A knowing smile played on her lips as she spoke.
“So, you’re her. You’re Anaya.”
And at that moment, in two different places, under the same moonlit sky—Ayaan and Anaya unknowingly shared the same view, their fates slowly aligning.
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