The memories of yesterday's gathering lingered in Aryan's mind as he sat at the dining table, flipping through a thick mock test book. The lively chatter of his childhood friends, the laughter echoing through the community hall, and Neha's quiet yet firm words of encouragement replayed vividly. It had been a brief respite, a momentary pause from the intense preparations and self-discovery that now dominated his days.
"You've been staring at that same page for five minutes," Smith remarked from across the table, his voice breaking Aryan's reverie. "Don't tell me the great Aryan Menon is actually stuck on a question."
Aryan smirked faintly, closing the book. "Just thinking about yesterday. It was good to see everyone again."
"Yeah, it was," Smith replied, leaning back in his chair. "Though, if I hear one more person talk about how you're going to be the next big thing in the IPS, I might start charging a fan club membership fee."
Jimmy, lying beneath the table, thumped his tail against the wooden floor as though in agreement. Timmy, perched on the windowsill, let out a soft screech, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene.
The afternoon sunlight filtered through the window, illuminating the cluttered table strewn with mock test papers, pens, and half-empty cups of tea. Aryan reached for a pen, but before his hand could touch it, the pen slid across the table of its own accord. Both men froze, their eyes locking on the now-still pen.
"You…you…you," Smith stammered, his finger pointing at the pen. "How did you do that?"
Aryan stared at the pen, his heart pounding. "I didn't touch it," he whispered.
Smith leaned forward, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and disbelief. "Try it again. Just focus."
Hesitant but curious, Aryan extended his hand toward the pen, willing it to move. A faint tremor seemed to ripple through the air, and the pen lifted slightly before dropping with a clatter. A nearby stack of books toppled over in the process.
Smith shot to his feet, his hands clutching his head. "Okay, okay. This is insane. Are you… Are you some kind of superhero now? Or is this… what…?"
Aryan managed a weak smile. "I have no idea. It's just… happening."
Smith stepped back, waving his hands in mock alarm. "First rule of being a superhero: don't blow up your best friend with your powers." Then, softening, he sat back down and placed a hand on Aryan's shoulder. "Jokes aside, this is big. Really big. But you're still Aryan, okay? You can figure this out. Just… promise me you'll keep it a secret until you know what you're doing."
Aryan nodded slowly, the tension easing. "I promise."
Smith grinned. "Good. Now, as your unofficial manager, I demand a sidekick position. I'll need a cape."
---
As evening fell, Aryan stepped out into the courtyard, the cool breeze brushing against his face. The mango tree stood tall and steadfast, its branches sprawling like protective arms. Seeking solace, he sat cross-legged beneath it, closing his eyes and focusing on his breathing. The energy within him pulsed faintly, steady and rhythmic.
Jimmy wandered over, curling up beside Aryan, while Timmy descended from his perch, settling on a low branch. Their presence, silent and steady, grounded him. Aryan extended his hand, his mind envisioning a small pebble lying a few feet away. Slowly, it trembled, wobbled, and then lifted into the air, hovering briefly before dropping back to the ground.
The faint crunch of gravel drew Aryan's attention. Govindan Menon approached slowly, his brow furrowed as his eyes locked onto the pebble. For a moment, he stood still, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and concern.
"Arya," he said softly, stepping closer. "What is going on here?"
Aryan hesitated, his hand falling to his lap. "I didn't mean for you to see that," he admitted. "It's… something new. I don't understand it yet, but it's happening."
Govindan sat down on the bench, his gaze shifting from Aryan to the stone. "This… this is beyond anything I've ever seen," he said, his voice steady but laced with awe. "Does anyone else know?"
Aryan shook his head. "Only Smith. And he made me promise to keep it a secret."
Govindan leaned forward, his expression softening. "Listen to me, Arya. This is extraordinary, yes, but it's also dangerous. You must be careful. Powers like these can bring both wonder and fear. You have to learn to control it… master it. Do you understand?"
Aryan nodded slowly. "I'm trying. But I don't want to hurt anyone."
Govindan's gaze softened further as he placed a hand on Aryan's shoulder. "I know you, Arya. You have a good heart. You won't let this consume you. Fear is natural, but it's not a weakness. It's a sign that you care. And that's what will guide you."
Aryan looked down at the ground, his grandfather's words sinking in. "I'll do my best. I promise."
Govindan smiled faintly. "That's all I ask. And remember, you're not alone in this. We're here for you."
The two sat in silence for a moment, the night air cool and soothing. Finally, Govindan rose. "I'll leave you to your thoughts. But Arya… don't hide from who you're becoming. Embrace it, and you'll find the balance you need."
As his grandfather walked back toward the house, Aryan turned his attention once more to the pebble. He extended his hand, focusing intently. This time, the pebble lifted smoothly, hovering steadily before settling back onto the ground.
A quiet sense of accomplishment filled Aryan as he gazed at the stone. It wasn't perfect, but it was progress. And for now, that was enough.