"こんにちは.""Hello.""नमस्ते।""Peace to you."— Akari Fujiwara × Aryan Sen
It had been a week since their exchange started.
Library steps had become their spot.One notebook. Two languages. Three shared silences.
Aryan would often come early, pretending to read.Akari always came right on time — hair tied, glasses firm, and eyes soft.
That day, she greeted him first.
"Namaste," she said, placing her palms together awkwardly.
Aryan almost dropped his pen.
"You… said that right."He blinked. "Almost."
"Nam-ass-teh," she repeated, slowly."Mood light. Yes?"
He smiled."It means 'I bow to the soul within you.'"
She froze."Your hello… means that?"
He nodded."Hindi is full of feelings."
Akari's eyes softened.She quietly wrote "Namaste" in her Japanese-styled notebook and drew a tiny folded-hands emoji beside it.
The lesson began.This time, Aryan taught first.
"Pyaas lagi hai.""Means… I'm thirsty.""Try it."
Akari tried."P-yash... luggie?"
"Nope," he grinned. "Pyaaas. Stretch it like yawning."
She tried again."Pyaaaas lagi hai."
He clapped softly."Perfect."
"Too much emotion," she laughed."I feel like I cry when I say it."
"That's Hindi," he said. "You either sound like a poet… or like you're begging for samosa."
Then it was her turn.
"Suki desu.""Means... I like it."
Aryan repeated it, slower. "Suki… desu."
She nodded."You say this when you… like things. Or... people."
He tilted his head."Like people?"
She turned her face away. "I mean... in anime, people say 'suki desu' before kiss."
He paused.
"Oh."He didn't know what to say.So he just looked at his notebook.
Akari, flustered, changed the topic.
"Today's homework," she said, "is to say 'thank you' in Hindi."
He nodded."Dhanyawaad."
She repeated it."Dhan… yaa… what?"
He chuckled."Never mind. Say 'Shukriya'. Easier."
"Shukriya."It rolled off her tongue softly.
She smiled. "Nice. Sounds like... gift."
As the sky turned golden, she stood up."Same time tomorrow?"
He nodded."Always."
She walked away, turning back only once.
"Aryan…"He looked up.
"I don't know what 'pyaas lagi hai' means emotionally…But today, I feel… full."
And Aryan just smiled, hand on his chest.
He didn't say it aloud,but this was the first timein yearsthat his "dil" felt warm again.
[End of Episode 4]📝 Next: "The Boy Who Fought Alone" – Aryan's broken childhood, the pain that made his fists strong, and why fighting was the only way he knew how to feel.