Dil POV

I stumble out of the college auditorium, blinking like I've been trapped in a bunker for days. Honestly, it kind of felt that way. My head throbbed with a dull ache, the residue of two straight hours of academic ethics, thesis writing, and research policies made my brain feel like a scrambled TV channel.

Don't get me wrong, I dig science, but I'm more into the weirder side of things—quantum theories, space-time anomalies, stuff that warps your mind. This? This was just brutal.

Adjusting my orange beanie, I scan the campus, hoping to find something grounding. Trees—check. Sky—still there. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and the faint echo of laughter from a nearby group of students. That's when I spot her. Blonde pigtails, big blue eyes, and a kind of vibe that screams, "I haven't been beaten down by life yet." She's weirdly upbeat for someone who just sat through that academic torture.

She catches sight of me and jogs over, her smile radiating enough wattage to power the whole campus. "Hey!"

"Hi again," I reply, a small smile tugging at my lips. Her energy was contagious, even for a cynic like me.

Then, without warning, she declares, "We're officially best friends now. I helped you open that gadget; you witnessed my coffee disaster… It's fate."

I chuckle, caught off guard. "Is that how it works?"

She nods like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Totally. It's decided."

"Right," I mutter. I'm not exactly the "best friends" type. My default setting is to keep people at arm's length, to avoid the messy entanglements that come with close relationships. But there's something disarming about her earnestness—I guess there was no harm in playing along.

"So, what are you studying?" I ask, mostly to fill the silence.

"Oh, veterinary science," she says, beaming like she's announcing a cure for cancer. "I love animals. Always have. I can talk to them, you know? It just felt right."

I nod, intentionally ignoring her goofy quip about talking to animals.

She tilts her head, her eyes curious. "What about you?"

"Physics," I say, trying not to make it sound like a big deal. People usually either glaze over or get intimidated when I mention it.

But she surprises me. "So you're, like, super smart?"

I shrug, feeling the familiar awkwardness creep in at the praise. "I wouldn't say that. Just… curious about how things work."

Her eyes widen like I just told her I invented time travel. "Physics is so cool! It's like figuring out the rules of the universe."

"That's a clever way of putting it."

She grins, like she's cracked some important code. "That's why we're best friends now."

I give her a look. "You don't waste any time with the 'best friends' label, do you?"

She shrugs, still smiling. "Life's too short."

As we walk, a comfortable silence settles between us, punctuated by the rhythmic click of our shoes on the pavement. I steal glances at her as she talks, her words bubbling forth with an infectious enthusiasm. She describes her dream of opening an animal sanctuary, a place where abandoned and injured creatures could find refuge. Her words paint vivid images in my mind: rolling green pastures dotted with rescued animals, a symphony of barks, meows, and birdsong.

We're about to split ways when her phone rings, a jarring intrusion into our little bubble of tranquility. Instantly, the smile falls from her face as she looks at the screen. All the brightness drains out of her like someone flipped a switch.

I stop, frowning. "Everything okay?"

She doesn't answer right away, her eyes glued to the phone like it's holding her entire life in balance. After what feels like forever, she finally looks at me, and her face is pale.

"My sister…" Her squeaky voice cracks, the words barely audible.

My stomach tightens, a cold dread spreading through me. "What about her?"

She swallows hard, her hands shaking. "She just… she just committed suicide."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I'm frozen, my mind reeling. I search for something—anything—to say. But what do you say to something like that? The air around us suddenly feels too thick, too heavy, the weight of her grief pressing down on us.

"Shit…" I start, but the words die in my throat. I barely know this girl, we hadn't even exchanged names, but right now, none of that matters. The person who was laughing just moments ago now looks like her entire world has just collapsed.

She's just standing there, staring at her phone, her body now trembling with silent sobs - the beginning of a full on panic attack.