My name is Krishna Roy. I'm a bachelor, and I completed college two years ago.
I write stories under the alias K. Dharma—mostly short fiction, the kind that floats around niche forums and word-of-mouth circles. Strangely enough, they've gained a bit of popularity in the last two years. Not enough to get rich off of, but enough to keep going.
I don't have a job. I focus on my writing. And while it brings in some money, it's barely enough to cover monthly expenses. My parents no longer support me financially—they don't approve of my "career." But they do visit sometimes.
Especially my mother and my younger sister, Shaha.
One lazy afternoon, while I was halfway through a manga, the front door banged open.
"So, how's my favorite writer doing?"
It was Kiyara Kibe—my college classmate, now the councillor of our local ward. She used to visit a lot more before getting elected. Which, to be honest, was a blessing. Because when she did visit, she'd barge in like a hurricane, eat my food, and complain about politics like an old man on a tea break.
She's like an annoying sister. A nice girl, sure—but definitely a weird one.
I was mid-page when she burst in. Unfortunately, the manga panel featured an excessive amount of fan service.
She leaned in and grinned. "Ohh, classic. Getting off to fictional girls again? Get a girlfriend already."
"It's my life. I'll do what I want." I muttered, flipping the page.
"Don't you want to settle down someday? Kids, a house, no rent?"She plopped down on the couch like she owned the place."If you're desperate, I could be your girlfriend, you know. I might even be into you."
"Yeah, yeah. Pull the other one."I rolled my eyes."Besides, I'm still broke. The money I make writing isn't even enough for one person. Maybe I should quit."
"Nofh, yoh wirti is goo plea coftini writi."She was stuffing her face with the sweet bread I'd been saving.
"...Talk after you're done eating."A grown woman acting like a five-year-old. She's what—twenty? Twenty-one?
"I like reading your short stories,"she said after swallowing."Even that novel you started—it's coming along great. Please finish it soon."
"You've been reading my draft?"I asked. I keep them in my desk drawer.
"Yup. I eat your food, use your TV, do my laundry, nap on your couch. You're rarely home when I visit—or you're passed out." She replied, grinning with half a sweet roll in hand.
"...How are you still considered a 'model citizen' of the ward? You're basically a criminal."I closed the book in my hands and looked at her.
"Nope!"she said cheerfully, flashing a bright, shameless smile.
Figures. Classic Kiyara."When you leave, shut the door. You always forget."
I tried going back to my manga. Peace, at last. No noise. No snark. I figured she'd gotten bored and left.
I was fully absorbed in the cliffhanger when—
"The author really nailed that ending, huh?"She leaned over my shoulder.
"GAH!"I slipped off the chair and hit my back on the edge of the table.
She cackled."Fhuahahaha! How'd you get so scared? I've been here the whole time. Didn't even notice me? That's rude."
"I was more focused on the story than... reality,"I muttered, standing up and rubbing my back.
"That's dangerous, you know. Someone could sneak in and rob the place,"she said—as if the thief wasn't already standing right in front of me.
"Only if you forget to close the door. Again."
She ignored that."Still… I get why you lose yourself in fiction. Even if your writing isn't mainstream, I know how much it means to you."
That caught me off guard.
I started cleaning the room—mostly to avoid the sudden sincerity.She sat in the chair I'd been using, watching me with that unshakable grin.
"Don't you have work?"I asked."Aren't councilors supposed to be busy?"
"My secretary handles most of it. She actually told me to spend time with friends or family to destress,"she replied simply.
"So you came here. Not to your parents? Or other friends?" I asked, still moving as I cleaned.
Her smile dimmed."...My parents separated last month. Visiting them feels weird now. And I don't know—I feel at ease with you. Even back in college, you were always in the library, ignoring the world."
"...Don't you have a boyfriend? You're a beautiful woman, after all,"I said absentmindedly.
"You think I'm beautiful?"she interrupted, smirking.
I wasn't lying about her looks, but I didn't look her way as I replied."Who wouldn't?"
I noticed her glance away."I don't have one."
She might've been lying. Or not. I didn't press.
I finished tidying up and changed the subject."You staying for dinner?"
"Maybe,"she said, the smirk returning to her lips.
"What do you want to eat?" I asked, turning to her as I set the broom in the corner.
"Anything with rice," she chimed like a kid.
"You're easy to please."But there was a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth—a familiarity in her love for food.
"Rice and corn soup. With eggs!" she added, like it was already decided.
"End of the month. Rations are low," I said, raising my hands in mock surrender.
"Please?"She clasped her hands together like a child begging for sweets.
"Fine," I sighed. "Dinner'll be ready in two hours. Make yourself comfortable."
I made my way to the kitchen, checked the fridge, and laid what little I had on the counter.As I started chopping vegetables, I heard her footsteps behind me.
"Why don't you get a job?" Kiyara asked casually, leaning on the counter. "You could still write in your spare time."
"I don't like working under people," I replied without looking up. "Tried a few jobs. Didn't stick."
"Then what about tutoring?" she offered brightly. "You'd have control over your time. No bosses. No clock-ins."
I blinked. "Never thought about it."
She lit up like a Christmas tree."Then it's settled! I'll bring a student tomorrow," she declared, proud of herself like she'd just solved world hunger.
I froze mid-chop."...You're not dumping some responsibility on me, are you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"Ehh—n-no!" Kiyara stammered, her grin stiffening. "Don't be silly! I'm a councilor! I'd never abuse my power!"She laughed nervously, but her smile was... extremely unconvincing.
"Well," I muttered, resuming the slicing, "tutoring one student won't kill me."
"You're serious? Thank you!" Kiyara beamed, fists clenched in triumph."I'll bring her tomorrow."
I blinked. "Her?"
"Student's a girl. So what? Boy, girl—student's a student."She waved it off like it was a trivial footnote.
"Fair enough," I muttered. "What grade?"
"First-year college. Literature major."
I paused, eyebrows rising slowly.
"Relax," she added quickly, sensing my skepticism."She's not a science student trying to invent time travel. She's just into books—like you."
"That... almost makes too much sense. Which concerns me," I said, still not quite buying it.
"That's rude," Kiyara pouted, crossing her arms.
"What time's she coming?" I asked, already bracing myself.
"Eleven sharp. Dress decently. Her family has a name."She said it with that same amused, smug tone.
Once the food was ready, we set the table—well, I set the table.She helped just enough to grab the plates on her side, then flopped into her seat like a hungry child while I did the rest and served us both.
As we started to eat, I glanced up and asked,"If she's from a high-profile family, shouldn't you get her someone... I don't know, not on the brink of bankruptcy?"
She paused mid-bite, humming as if seriously considering it."Well, I could," she said thoughtfully. "But let's just say most people aren't as qualified as you. Plus, I know you wouldn't take the job just for the money. And you wouldn't stop at tutoring either."
There was a teasing lilt to her words—one I definitely caught but chose not to comment on.
Instead, I rolled my eyes."It's not like I went to an elite college."
"Excuse me—third-highest marks every year. And student council," Kiyara said proudly, flipping her hair like it was a badge of honor.
"Didn't feel like it," I replied, poking at my food."I didn't enjoy college life. No friends. No enemies either. Just... rumors, whispers."
She blinked at me, then frowned slightly.
Her voice pulled me out of my thoughts."Hey. You spaced out. Your food's getting cold."
"Huh? Yeah. Sorry," I muttered, snapping back to reality.
Dinner passed quickly after that.She devoured the meal like it was the best thing she'd had in weeks.
"If your cooking were next to five-star hotel food, I'd eat yours," she declared, patting her stomach.
"Thanks... I think," I said, raising an eyebrow.
As she stood up and grabbed her bag, a black sedan pulled up outside the gate.
She peeked out the window."Look at that—my ride's here," she said, slinging the bag over her shoulder.
"Have a safe trip home," I told her.
"Clean your place before tomorrow, okay?" she called over her shoulder as she stepped outside."She'll be here at eleven!"
The door clicked shut.
I walked to the window and watched the taillights fade down the road.Then sat back down, staring at the empty seat across from me.
I still don't get how we became friends.