"Vansh! Over here!"
He remembered those days when his name echoed across the playground, when his friends pulled him into every game, when his presence mattered when he wasn't.... different.
That was different from the summer before the sun darkened his skin. Before the stares. Before the whispers. Before they stopped calling his name.
Now in the middle of a classroom buzzing with voices, Vansh sat alone. If classrooms had rankings, he figured he'd be the undisputed King of Ignored. Not that he cared. He had his comic, and that was enough. The Adventures of Masked Heroes and time-traveling warriors were far better company than people who pretended he didn't exist.
Just as he turned the page, the classroom door creaked open. A new girl walked in. Vansh barely glanced up. Another person who wouldn't notice him. Or worse-would.
Vansh barely glanced at her, unaware of the stares she was attracting. Everyone was attracted by her glorious grace by her first step into the classroom. Effortlessly commanding attention.
The teacher smiled and prompted her to choose any empty seat. Just before she could take a step, a popular guy in the class spoke up,
"Ma'am! Why doesn't she introduce herself first?"
In the classroom's social hierarchy, he was at the very top—undefeated in attracting attention and charm.
"Today, she has a sore throat, so she cannot talk."
The teacher smiled again and offered her one of the empty seats. There were two available. The girl glanced around the classroom, and the seat next to the popular guy looked promising. The teacher encouraged her to take that seat.
She chose the one away from Vansh. He noticed but didn't care. Without a second thought, he buried himself back in the book, Comic.
As she settled into her new spot, the other girls started to flirt with the popular guy, while the boys began to notice the new girl, each having their fantasies. However, she quickly realized that the desk was slightly broken, with a sharp edge sticking out that could easily hurt her. The teacher noticed her hesitation and walked over to apologize, explaining that no one had seen the damage before, not even the guy sitting next to it. Left with no other choice, the new girl had to take the seat next to Vansh.
Vansh, however, remained indifferent. He didn't glance up, didn't shift, and didn't even acknowledge her presence. It was as if the space behind him was still empty. His attention stayed locked onto his comic, the world around him fading into the background. He was not even concerned about her, as there was still some empty space.
Vansh was lost in his own world. Suddenly, a shadow loomed over his desk.
It was the teacher.
She approached to check on the new girl, ensuring she was comfortable, but her eyes fell on Vansh. She noticed the comic in his hands, and her expression shifted immediately. Without hesitation, she snatched it from him and confiscated it.
"You should know better than to read comics in class," she scolded. "Come to the office after school."
Vansh hesitated. He wanted to argue, but he couldn't. His throat tightened, and his voice stayed locked inside, refusing to come out. The teacher didn't wait for a response. She noticed the popular guy approaching Vansh and turned to walk away, leaving him there feeling as if the comic had been ripped from his chest instead of his hands. The guy also left, watching his friends call him over.
Vansh sighed and slumped forward, resting his head against the desk. He was already mourning the loss of his book, a deep sadness settling over him. He barely noticed that the girl beside him had been watching the entire exchange.
"Poor guy," she thought. She considered saying something, but before she could, Vansh suddenly pulled the comic out again—as if by magic.
Her eyes widened. "What? How?!"
"How did he do that?"
The teacher had confiscated it. There was no way he could have another copy. And yet, here it was, back in his hands as if nothing had happened. The teacher, now focused on the lesson, began scribbling something about adverbs and verbs on the board. The girl, still intrigued, quickly tore a small piece of paper from her notebook. She scribbled a word onto it and carefully slid it toward Vansh.
At first, he ignored it. But when the slip nudged closer, he finally glanced at it. One simple word stared back at him in neat handwriting: "Hello."
He could sense that she was looking at him, anticipating some sort of response. But he had no clue as to what to do. So, rather than responding, he just pushed the slip back in her direction and plunged himself deeper into his comic. Another slip showed.
He sighed, turning his page as if he hadn't noticed. But before he could turn away once more, a small bit of paper struck him right in the face.
He blinked, taken aback. The slip had fallen right onto his comic. She was staring at him, brows raised, discreetly motioning for him to pick it up.
Vansh was now fully frustrated by her ridiculous and annoying act.. He turned over her, watching her and opened his mouth expecting to yell upon her without making any commotion. But then, his throat tightened, he felt the press under his voice. All the past familiar voices were holding it back, he couldn't let the words out. He turned over to his book again, eyes filled with nervousness.
The girl was interested in her bench mate. But Vansh was clueless, he was lost in his past, drowning in his horrific voices, Another chit hit his face. He snapped out of his sea of distress.". He saw the chit.
Vansh hesitated before taking the chit. This time, he did not flick it back. Instead, he took out his pen and hastily wrote a response.
"Don't disturb me. Don't talk to me. It's none of your business."
But she didn't reply immediately. She merely picked up all the slips she had hurled at him, balled them up in her hand, and discarded them into the waste bin next to her (without reading his note even once).
Vansh raised an eyebrow. What was she doing?
He didn't have time to wonder before she leaned in , talking so softly he could hardly hear her.
"Don't read comics in class. "
The warmth of her breath on his ear sent a weird tingle down his spine. The voice was cracked and sweet at the same time. He tensed, his hand clenching around his comic. For a moment, he didn't know what to do. No one had ever dismissed his rejection like that before.
Slowly, he turned his head to her.
She was already sitting up straight once more, drumming her pencil on her desk as if nothing had occurred.
Vansh gawked, then breathed sharply through his nostrils, shaking his head.
Unbelievable.
Quietly, he returned to his comic. But this time, the text on the page seemed blurred—because all he could concentrate on was her. He was being clueless in this situation for a while, he remembered the teacher's words. She mentioned that she is having a sore throat, Vansh felt the regret right at that moment. She was engaging with him by chits, because she was trying to say something but couldn't.
Many questions aroused in his mouth. But he kept in his mind for now, his mind went for a blank mode. He didn't know why, but for the first time in ages, the world outside his comic book seemed a little less bleak.
Vansh let out a sigh and pushed his comic book back into his backpack. Just as he got comfortable, he caught the teacher's eyes moving in his direction.
She had seen him.
Without saying a word, she approached. Vansh stiffened as she took his book from him, scanning the pages. His gut twisted—had she caught him writing during reading?
She instead was feeling tensed by a stare into Vansh's eyes.
The girl next to him looked on, waiting for another lecture. But instead of lecturing him, the teacher merely looked at her and inquired, "Are you comfortable here? Facing any problems?"
Vansh looked at the girl.
For a fleeting moment, their gazes met. He half-hoped she would tell the teacher the truth—that sitting next to him was clumsy or annoying. Perhaps even that he was snubbing her.
But she did not.
She shook her head and replied, "No."
When Vansh could even take in what had happened, the bell rang announcing the end of the class. The teacher looked at the girl and said, "You can take notes from anyone if you need."
At that moment, the "popular guy" sitting a few rows ahead turned back, probably expecting her to pick him. After all, everyone did.
But then—
She pointed at Vansh.
As she pointed him in this situation. Vansh glanced behind him, expecting her to be pointing at someone else. But there was no one. Her finger was still aimed at him.
Vansh blinked." What? "The teacher, surprised, turned toward him.
"Vansh, give her your notes."
Vansh opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He couldn't believe it. Why him?
Even the teacher was hesitant. She glanced at the girl once more, as if offering her a second chance. "Are you certain? Why not take them from him instead?" she asked, inclining her head toward the popular boy in a discreet manner.
The girl, saw to the popular guy but didn't say anything. returned to Vansh briefly.
But the girl shook her head again. "No."
Once more, she gestured towards Vansh. She was much more confident in her answer, not a single hesitation in her eyes. Her act was leaving on an odd tone, much more like surprising.
A few whispers circulated in class. Some of the confused stares were exchanged. Even Vansh, after years of being ignored, felt himself in a mysterious spotlight.
Why was she doing this? He had asked her to ignore him. But somehow, she was ensuring that no one else did.
Before Vansh could do anything, the bell rang. Every student had their plans: some were heading to the park, while others were going from one home to another. Vansh, however, had no plans at all; he couldn't even think about such things anymore.
He made his way to the bus, waiting for it to depart. Once inside, he took a single seat. The empty seat beside him had stayed empty for months. It might as well have had a 'reserved for no one' sign
Many of his classmates were on the same bus. The popular guy, also the class representative, was there too.
As the bus started to move, it picked up speed on the road, dropping off kids at their respective stops. Vansh watched as each child got off, greeted by their parents. Soon, it was Vansh's turn to get off. When his stop arrived, he noticed that the new girl was on the same bus. She had been observing him from the beginning, excited to see his home and the neighborhood where he lived.
She anticipated seeing his parents come to pick him up. However, when he got off, no one arrived for him. Vansh left the bus alone, and the girl continued to wait, hoping someone would greet him. But there was no one. Her fingers curled against the bus seat. She had expected someone to be waiting for him. A wave, a smile, anything. But Vansh just walked away—alone. Something about that loneliness felt... familiar.