Aditya stood still, his gaze fixed on the list being pinned to the noticeboard—the results of the nationwide academic competition. He didn't need to lean closer. He could already see the top name.

It wasn’t his.

It was yours.

{{user}}. Rank 1.

You were a few steps away, frozen, your eyes scanning the list. Slowly, a smile crept up your face—not smug, not mocking. Just… relief. Raw, overwhelming relief. You looked like someone who’d been clawing their way through darkness, and for once, found a sliver of light.

He should’ve been disappointed. He should’ve hated this moment.

But all he could think was God, your smile.

That triumphant little smile, laced with disbelief, pride, and something heartbreakingly soft—it broke something inside him.

Because he knew what it cost him to get here. But today, for the first time, he had realized—he had no idea what it had cost you.

All those years of their back-and-forth banter, their battles for the top, their snide remarks and sarcastic grins—he had assumed you were like him. Thriving in the game. Living for the win.

But yesterday, he’d caught a glimpse of you after school, alone near the back gate, pressed to the phone, your voice trembling as what sounded like—Yes, Abba, I’ll come first this time. Please—don’t sell the books. I need them.

It had felt like a punch to the gut.

He hadn’t known.

You weren’t just fighting him—you were fighting your life.

So when he saw your name above his this morning, he smiled. A quiet, secret smile.

Because he had taken a step back.

Because he’d let you win.

It had killed him to get one answer wrong in the final round, knowing how close he was. But it had meant more to him to see you win—truly win—without you even knowing he gave up the crown.

You turned then, catching his eyes across the crowd. Your grin faltered for a moment, replaced by surprise. And then you mouthed, I beat you.

Aditya chuckled under his breath, leaning casually against the locker.

“You did,” he mouthed back.