The sound of birds outside his window woke Mivan earlier than usual.
Morning light spilled across the room, soft and golden, and for a moment, he almost forgot where he was.
But then the dull ache in his chest reminded him.
Reality never let him rest for too long.
At breakfast, the house felt unusually quiet.
His mother smiled as she served him tea, his father read the paper silently, and his two older brothers kept glancing at him.
They weren't saying it, but Mivan knew.
They were worried.
He forced a grin.
"Come on, guys. I'm not a ghost yet. Stop looking at me like that."
One of his brothers finally chuckled, and the tension broke.
The four of them laughed together—a rare, warm sound that filled the house.
For a little while, Mivan forgot about hospitals, doctors, and the strange fear that had been following him since childhood.
He just wanted to live normally.
He wanted to study.
He wanted to explore Kathmandu, visit places he'd never seen, try things he'd never tried, and make memories with his friends.
If life was uncertain, he didn't want to spend every day sitting inside his room worrying about tomorrow.
When Mivan stepped outside, the sky was already bright.
Sandeep was waiting by the gate, waving as if nothing in the world was wrong.
"Race you to school!"
"Don't blame me if you lose!" Mivan shouted back.
They ran down the road together, laughing like they had forgotten every problem in the world.
For a while, it really felt like an ordinary day.
But at school, during the lunch break, the ordinary began to crack.
Sandeep found Mivan on the rooftop, staring at the sky.
"Hey, why so serious? I brought your favorite bread!"
Mivan smiled faintly and took it.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Sandeep noticed something.
"You're acting strange today."
Mivan looked at him.
"Remember what happened before I went to the hospital?"
Sandeep nodded.
"Yeah. You never really told me what happened."
Mivan leaned against the railing.
"I was doing push-ups in my room."
Sandeep blinked.
"Push-ups?"
"Yeah."
Mivan looked down at his hands.
"Then suddenly... I felt something was wrong. I couldn't keep going. My arms became weak, and I started having trouble breathing."
Sandeep's smile disappeared.
"What happened after that?"
"I got scared."
Mivan paused.
"For a moment, I honestly thought I might die."
Sandeep went silent.
"I don't remember everything after that," Mivan continued. "I lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was in the hospital."
Sandeep stared at him.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Mivan gave him a small smile.
"Because I didn't want you to look at me like everyone else."
Sandeep frowned.
"I don't."
"I know."
Mivan smiled.
"That's why you're my best friend."
The wind moved across the rooftop.
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
Then Mivan reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette packet.
Sandeep immediately stared at it.
"Hey, when did you start smoking, bro? At this age?"
Mivan looked at the packet quietly.
"Today."
"Today?"
Mivan gave a small smile.
"Yeah. Because now I want to try new things."
He took out a cigarette and a lighter, then lit it.
Sandeep shook his head.
"You're seriously becoming weird."
Mivan laughed softly.
"Maybe."
He looked toward the distant Kathmandu skyline.
"I'm not saying it's a good idea. I just... don't want to spend my whole life being afraid of everything."
Sandeep sighed.
"You're impossible."
"Probably."
They sat together, watching the city beyond the school walls.
After a while, Mivan put the cigarette away.
The conversation slowly returned to ordinary things—school, exams, teachers, and all the places they wanted to visit someday.
That afternoon, Mivan walked through the streets of Kathmandu with Sandeep.
They stopped at small shops, looked at things they couldn't afford, joked about food, and talked about places they wanted to explore.
Mivan wanted to remember days like this.
Not because every day had to be perfect.
But because these ordinary moments were exactly what made life feel real.
That night, Mivan sat by his desk, staring at the blank page of his notebook.
He picked up his pen, then hesitated.
The words wouldn't come out—not yet.
He thought about the hospital.
His family.
Sandeep.
Kathmandu.
And all the things he still wanted to experience.
He closed the notebook and whispered,
"Tomorrow. I'll write it tomorrow."
The chapter/story has ended, but we'll remember it someday from another corner of a new universe.