Last Week of July – Tuesday
The morning sky was velvet blue when the scooters pulled out of Nandanpur. The roads were still wet from last night's rain, mist curling around them like breath.
The 8 students, now known even by the teachers as the "Nandanpur Eight," were halfway through their 6 AM extra classes, and the weight of upcoming scholarship tests was slowly pressing on everyone.
Yet, the siblings had found a rhythm — waking up at 5, leaving at 5:15 sharp, reaching Devgarh by 5:50, and scooting into classrooms with yawns and determination.
Breaktime Buzz – Sparks of Another Kind
By mid-morning, when the final bell of regular class break rang, the air in the school was buzzing. Students rushed out into the courtyard, dabba lids popped open, and laughter echoed in all corners.
Simran found Ishanvi sitting under the gulmohar tree near the junior wing — her usual spot.
She flopped down beside her and nudged her shoulder.
"So…" Simran grinned mischievously. "Are you and Abhay just scholarship toppers together, or is there something more going on under all those chemistry formulas?"
Ishanvi choked on her water and turned red. "What?! No—nothing like that!"
"Mmm hmm," Simran teased, leaning in dramatically. "But you do look at him like he's your personal Nobel Prize."
From a few feet away, Abhay had just approached, a steel tiffin in his hand. Hearing his name, he froze.
"Simran…" he stuttered, his ears turning pink.
"Oh look, he heard me," Simran winked. "Hi, Mr. Nobel."
Abhay fumbled with his words, eyes darting to Ishanvi, "I–I–I just—brought the p–pickle she forgot…"
Ishanvi quickly took it, not making eye contact. "Thanks."
Simran narrowed her eyes playfully. "Your hands are shaking. You okay?"
"F–fine," he whispered, clearly not.
Behind a pillar, Raghav and Aariv were watching everything. Raghav elbowed Aariv, whispering, "How many liters of water can Ripple sweat?"
Aariv chuckled. "More than the Narmada today."
The Fire in the Fifth
An hour later, as the school resumed its second half, the unexpected happened.
A sudden crackle. A scream. Then black smoke.
From the 5th standard block, smoke began curling out of an electrical socket. In seconds, paper charts on the wall caught the spark.
Class 5-B — where Meera, Vivaan, and Simran were studying — was filling with smoke fast.
Students began screaming.
Teachers yelled for evacuation.
But through the panic, Ishanvi's head snapped up. She saw the smoke from the window of her classroom and ran without a word.
Abhay followed, without even picking up his bag.
They reached just as Simran tried to pull a terrified Meera from under a desk. Vivaan, coughing, had frozen.
Flames licked the edge of the curtains.
"I'll get Meera!" Ishanvi shouted, dashing into the smoke-filled class.
"Vivaan!" Abhay ran in, feeling heat rise sharply.
The corridor outside filled with students and teachers. Principal Thakur had called the fire brigade, but it would take too long.
Inside the classroom, Ishanvi gritted her teeth. Her palm accidentally grazed a melting bench and sizzled. The pain burned — and so did something within her. The fire seemed to… twitch, like it recognized her.
She pulled Meera into her arms, shielding her, and whispered, "Almost out…"
At the same time, Abhay reached Vivaan and held him close. The smoke made his lungs ache, but somewhere deep in his veins, something stirred. The sprinklers above suddenly burst into life, dousing the room in water before the fire had spread fully.
They didn't know it — but a faint aura shimmered around them both. Fire and water. Heat and mist. Balance.
Aftermath
Outside, teachers hugged the rescued children.
Meera was crying but safe. Vivaan kept coughing, but the school nurse assured he was fine. Simran had a burn on her sleeve but was otherwise alright.
"You guys just ran in," she whispered to Ishanvi later. "Like you didn't even think."
"We didn't," Ishanvi said softly. "They're ours."
Simran smiled. "You're not just toppers. You're heroes."
From across the corridor, Abhay glanced at Ishanvi, who was brushing soot from her shirt.
She looked up.
He opened his mouth to speak. Maybe something meaningful. Maybe something silly.
But all that came out was, "Y–your s–shirt… b–burnt…"
She laughed. "Yours too."
They stood in silence, barely three feet apart. The chaos around them faded, if only for a second.
And in that second, they didn't need fire or water to know — something was changing.