Once in a blue moon

Fear

Rakshat's grin widened as he stepped into the apartment, raindrops clinging to his unruly hair. His eyes sparkled with mischief, and he held up a soggy pizza box like a triumphant trophy.

"Why did you bunk last night's party?" Rakshat's voice was a playful taunt, echoing off the walls of the narrow hallway.

Ishaan's annoyance flared. "Bunk?" He raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I chose not to abandon our lab experiment, unlike you, who was busy dancing the night away."

Rakshat's grin turned into a full-blown smirk. "Ah, the noble scientist," he teased. "While I reveled in the neon glow of disco lights, you were probably analyzing DNA sequences under a microscope."

Ishaan's lips twitched. "Precisely," he replied.
"And now, here you are, dripping wet and interrupting my contemplation of natural selection."

"Contemplation?" Rakshat scoffed. "I bet you
were contemplating the mysteries of pizza toppings. Pepperoni or pineapple?"

Ishaan rolled his eyes. "Neither," he said. "I was pondering the intricate dance of genes, environmental pressures, and—"

"—and whether to order extra cheese," Rakshat interrupted, winking. "Come on, Ishaan, let's celebrate our survival. Lab coats off, party hats on!"

Ishaan's patience wore thin as Rakshat tugged him toward the kitchen. He let out an exaggerated sigh, his voice dripping with mock exasperation.

"Rakshat," he groaned, "you're like a persistent mosquito at a picnic—annoying, relentless, and impossible to swat away."

Rakshat chuckled.
..................

Rakshat's triumphant grin faltered as he held out the rain-soaked pizza box toward Ishaan. "Come on," he urged, "join the celebration! Pizza heals all wounds."

Ishaan eyed the soggy mess skeptically. "Heals or exacerbates?" he quipped. "I'll pass, thanks. I've got my trusty biscuit waiting for me."

Rakshat shrugged, undeterred. "Suit yourself," he said, taking a massive bite of the pizza. Tomato sauce dripped down his chin, and he chewed with exaggerated delight. "Mmm, survival never tasted so good."

Ishaan shook his head, amused. "You're impossible," he muttered.

Rakshat's triumphant grin faltered as he held out the rain-soaked pizza box toward Ishaan. "Come on," he urged, "join the celebration! Pizza heals all wounds."

Ishaan eyed the soggy mess skeptically. "Heals or exacerbates?" he quipped. "I'll pass, thanks. I've got my trusty biscuit waiting for me."

Rakshat shrugged, undeterred. "Suit yourself," he said, taking a massive bite of the pizza. Tomato sauce dripped down his chin, and he chewed with exaggerated delight. "Mmm, survival never tasted so good."

Ishaan shook his head, amused. "You're impossible," he muttered."

As Rakshat devoured another slice, Ishaan leaned against the kitchen counter. Rain tapped against the window, and the scent of melted cheese hung in the air.

His mind wandered to his younger brother, the one who used to be his partner in mischief—a pint-sized tornado of energy and joy.

"Rehaan." He muttered under his lips.

Rakshat who was savouring up until now, stopped eating and gives him understanding look.

"He is all grown up by now I guess, both mentally and emotionally." Ishaan chuckles softly leaning towards kitchen counter.

"Responsibilities, expectations, and the weight of the world. But sometimes, on rainy days like this, I miss that carefree spirit." Ishaan added and his eyes twinkling with nostalgia.

Rakshat: "Why aren't you going back to India and forgiving him?"

Ishaan looked down, his gaze tracing the grain of the kitchen table. The question hung in the air, heavy with memories and unspoken regrets.

"Because he was wrong," Ishaan finally replied, his voice barely audible. "But not just him. I was wrong too."

Rakshat leaned against the counter, studying Ishaan's profile. "And forgiveness?" he prodded. "Isn't that the path to healing?"

"Forgiveness," Ishaan murmured, "is like a fragile bridge. It spans the chasm between hurt and healing. But what if the bridge collapses again? What if I step onto it, only to find myself falling into the same abyss?"

Rakshat's expression softened. "Fear," he said, "can be a merciless companion. It whispers worst-case scenarios, paints caution signs on every step."

"Exactly," Ishaan agreed. "I've rebuilt bridges before, only to watch them crumble. I can't bear another collapse."

"But what if," Rakshat said gently, "this time the foundation is stronger? What if forgiveness isn't about forgetting, but about releasing the weight of resentment?"

Ishaan took deep breath closing his eyes.

Ishaan whispered, "I'm adrift. Forgiving feels like stepping onto a tightrope without a safety net."

"Maybe," Rakshat said, "it's time to risk the fall. To find out if forgiveness can mend what science cannot."

Ishaan left from kitchen walking away slowly yet steadily.