CHAPTER 29
ARYAN
If someone had told me a few months ago that Ishika Vyas would be sitting in my living room, cross-legged on our couch, arguing passionately about fictional monsters while my family watched in delight, I would have recommended therapy.
Yet here we are.
She’s changed back into her own clothes after breakfast, hair tied loosely, face scrubbed clean except for faint kajal still left behind near the corners of her eyes.
She had looked embarrassed enough this morning to disappear through the floor, but Ma handled it like she’d always been around, which somehow helped.
Now she’s here. Still here. Talking. Actually talking. Not clipped replies. Not sarcastic bullets fired in my direction. Full sentences. Animated expressions. Opinions. Theories.
And I can’t stop smiling.
Radhika is sitting opposite her, knees folded under her, leaning so far forward she might as well crawl across the table. “No, listen to me,” she says, waving both hands. “Vecna is not fully gone. There is no way they will build him up for seasons and end him like that.”
“I know!” Ishika says, eyes wide. “Exactly. And there are too many loose ends. Also Will definitely matters more than they’re showing.”
My sister gasps like she has found her soulmate. “That is what I’ve been saying!”
I lean back in my chair and watch Ishika’s face as she speaks. There’s color in it now. Life. Her hands move when she talks, brows pulling together when she gets intense about a point. She forgets to guard herself when she’s excited.
I don’t think she knows that. And I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing it. “We should definitely watch the new season together,” Radhika declares suddenly.
Ishika blinks. “What?”
“Yes,” Radhika says firmly. “Because Aryan is a scaredy cat.”
I choke on air. “Excuse me?”
Radhika shakes her head dramatically. “This thirty-two-year-old man is scared of flower-like monsters from a kids’ show.”
Ishika looks at me. Then bursts into laughter. Head tipped slightly back, mouth full because she’s still chewing toast, trying to laugh and eat at the same time.
I place a hand on my chest. “Hey. They are scary. Don’t be so ageist.” That makes both of them laugh harder. “Maa!” I yell toward the kitchen. “Radhika is being mean to me!”
I pout for effect. They both roll their eyes in sync. I can’t help chuckling. From the armchair near the window, Vedant doesn’t even look up from his phone. “It is a kids’ show.”
Ishika gasps like he insulted her ancestors. “It was made for kids maybe,” she says, turning toward him, “but it’s so interesting.”
Vedant finally looks up, startled by the intensity. He glances at me for help.
I shrug. Every man for himself.
Radhika points dramatically at Vedant. “See? This is what I deal with.”
“You deal with nothing,” Vedant replies calmly. “You create problems and call them personality.”
She throws a cushion at him. He catches it without looking.
Ishika laughs again.
God.
I don’t know what this feeling is exactly, but it sits warm in my chest and spreads every time she does that.
Ma walks in carrying another plate and sits beside me on the sofa. Her eyes scan the room once and soften when they land on Ishika. That terrifies me.
Because when my mother gets soft, she usually says something emotional or wildly inappropriate. And Ishika has walls taller than any building.
“So, Ishika,” Ma says warmly.
I visibly see Ishika stiffen. Shoulders tightening. Smile freezing for a second. I almost intervene. But Ma continues before I can. “You should join Radhika for this show thing. I’ll force these boys to watch too,” she adds, glaring at me and Vedant equally.
Radhika cheers.
Ma looks at Ishika with such open expectation that refusal becomes socially impossible. Ishika glances at me once. Just once. Then back at Ma.
“I would like that,” she says politely. “Thank you.”
Radhika squeals. “Can I also call Saachi?” she asks immediately. “She’s our neighbour and the only other person in my life who watches the show.”
Ishika smiles and nods. “Of course.”
Radhika looks between me and Ishika. I know that look. I glare at her instantly.
Stop being weird.
She smirks and ignores me. “So,” she says casually, far too casually. “How’s working with my brother?”
I prepare for violence. Ishika turns toward me. Her expression softens unexpectedly. “It’s good,” she says.
My heart does something deeply inconvenient. Radhika snorts. “I know that’s false.”
Ishika chuckles. “He might be super annoying,” Radhika adds.
“You know your brother so well,” Ishika says, smirking. I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling.
Radhika laughs loudly. “I like you so much.”
Ishika’s mouth parts slightly in surprise. And I know my face is doing it. That smug I told you so expression. She catches it immediately. Looks at me. Then shakes her head like I’m impossible. I beam wider.
“I have an office too,” Vedant says suddenly. Everyone turns.
Radhika gives him a slow clap. “Wow. We didn’t know.”
He ignores her completely. “I wanted to get it redesigned a bit,” he says, looking at Ishika. “If you’re free…”
He leaves it there casually, but I know my brother. He’s testing waters. Helping in the only subtle way he knows. Ishika’s whole face brightens. “Yes, of course,” she says immediately. “Can I take it up after I’m done with Aryan’s?”
“Sure,” Vedant replies.
She’s glowing. I watch her for a second too long. She really does love her work. Not for money or status. For the work itself. That kind of passion is rare. And so beautiful. Radhika leans toward me and whispers loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Look at you staring.”
“I am looking normally,” I say.
“You are smiling like an idiot,” she replies.
“I always smile.”
“Not like that.”
Ma pats Ishika’s knee gently and sighs. “This is what I have been stuck with for thirty-plus years.”
Ishika laughs into her hand.
“Correction,” Vedant says dryly. “You’re stuck with me for thirty-four.”
“Unfortunately,” Ma replies.
Radhika gasps. “What about me?”
“You are still under evaluation,” Ma says.
I laugh so hard I nearly choke. Radhika throws another cushion. This one hits me directly. Unlike Vedant I don’t have fast reflexes. “Violence,” I announce. “Witnessed in broad daylight.”
“You deserve worse,” she says.
Ishika is laughing again. Every few seconds today, she laughs. Like maybe she forgot not to. Like maybe my house feels safe enough for it. And that thought hits me harder than it should. Because I know what laughter costs some people. I know hers isn’t cheap.
Breakfast turns into tea. Tea turns into snacks. Nobody seems in a rush to end this. Even Ishika, who usually keeps one foot emotionally near the exit, looks…settled.
Not fully relaxed. But softer. She listens when Ma tells old stories about us as kids. Laughs when Radhika reenacts how I cried because a neighbor’s pet bird chased me when I was seven. “It was aggressive,” I defend.
“It was a bird,” Vedant says.
“It had intent.” Ishika wipes tears from laughing too much. Worth it. Entirely worth it. I mentally thank my seven year old self.
At one point, she gets up to help Ma clear cups despite Ma refusing. I watch them in the kitchen doorway. Ma talking. Ishika listening carefully. Then saying something that makes Ma laugh. Something catches in my chest. A sharp, strange ache. Not painful. Just intense.
A dangerous thought looms over—She looks like she belongs here.
I shut that down immediately. Too soon. Too much.
Too stupid. Still. When she comes back into the room my mother and her fighting who will carry the plate of biscuits like she has every right to, my family makes space for her automatically.
And maybe that’s why she looks slightly stunned for half a second before covering it.
I notice. Of course I notice. Later, when she’s putting on her shoes near the door, I walk over casually. “You survived,” I murmur.
She glances up. “Barely.”
“My family loved you.”
She snorts softly. “Your family is suspiciously nice.”
“That’s because they haven’t shown you their true forms.”
She straightens, adjusting her bag. “I saw enough.”
I grin. Then quieter, I ask, “You okay?”
Something shifts in her expression. That softness again. “Yeah,” she says after a second. “I think…”
She pauses. Then shrugs lightly. “Yeah.” It isn’t a grand confession. It isn’t poetry. But I understand anyway. She had a good time. And for her, that matters. I walk her to the door.
Radhika yells from inside, “Don’t forget Stranger Things night!”
“I won’t,” Ishika calls back.
Then she steps into the hallway. Turns once. Looks at me. “Your bird trauma explains a lot,” she says seriously.
The door closes in my face before I can respond. I stand there for a second. Then laugh. From inside, Ma calls out, “Why are you smiling alone like a fool?”
I walk back in still grinning. Because today my home felt fuller. Louder. Warmer. And the girl who once barely tolerated me laughed in my living room like she’d always been meant to.