"Khaana sirf taste nahi deta... kabhi kabhi yakeen bhi deta hai.""Food doesn't just taste. Sometimes… it gives hope."— Aryan Sen
Akari had never eaten Indian food before.
She had walked past Indian restaurants —the smell of spices always too loud,the names too long to pronounce.
But today was different.
Today, Aryan invited her to a tiny South Indian shop tucked between a manga store and a hardware stall.No board. No fancy signs. Just a man with silver hair flipping dosas like magic.
"You like spicy?" Aryan asked.
"Sometimes," she replied."What is... dosa?"
Aryan smirked."Indian crepe. But it's more than that."
She raised an eyebrow. "More?"
He looked at the old uncle behind the stove.
"He's been running this place for 20 years. No ads. No menu. Just dosas and stories."
They sat on the small table.Two plates arrived. One with plain dosa. One with masala inside.Coconut chutney. Red sauce. A cup of filter coffee.
Akari took one bite and paused.
The flavors exploded. Tangy. Warm. Sharp. Gentle.
She blinked. "This is… strong."
Aryan laughed."Like me."
She smiled. "And emotional. Like your Hindi."
As they ate, she asked quietly:"Why did you bring me here?"
Aryan stirred his coffee.
"You always do things for others. Haru. School. Everything."
She lowered her eyes.
"So?"
"So… someone should do something for you."
She looked at him.
And this time, he didn't look away.
"I saw your notebook," he continued."You wrote about wanting to study medicine. For Haru."
Akari's eyes widened.
"You shouldn't read—"
"I didn't," he interrupted."You dropped it last week. Page slipped out."
There was silence.
Then Aryan said:
"If we study together… I can help you apply abroad."
She blinked.
"Abroad?"
"My father runs international projects. I know how the system works.If we combine my strategy and your grades… we can make it."
Akari stared at her half-eaten dosa.
She'd never imagined dreaming big.Surviving was the only goal.
But now—
"You'd help me?" she whispered.
Aryan shrugged."Tu meri language sikhati hai.I'll teach you how to fight… in the real world."
She smiled, tears threatening.
"You really believe I can do it?"
He looked her dead in the eyes and said:
"Tum chhoti ho, par kamzor nahi."
And just like that, over coconut chutney and steam,a plan was born.
Two broken kids. One big dream.
And somewhere between laughter and filter coffee,Akari realized something:
This wasn't just about school.This was about hope.
[End of Episode 9]📝 Next: "Festival of Firsts" – Aryan's first Japanese matsuri, Akari in a yukata, and a moment under fireworks that nearly changes everything…