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  Part- 342:

  The quarter-final and semi final croild. Students chattered, yelled, and waved banners as Banani High's judo team battled it out o. The air buzzed with excitement—except for Emdad, who sat with arms folded, sulking like a kid denied ice cream. His gaze locked on the fighters grappling below, but his mind was elsewhere.

  “Maybe I picked the wrong martial art,” he muttered under his breath, regretting every Muay Thai elbow strike he’d ever learned. “I should’ve joined judo instead.”

  Mili, sitting beside him, rolled her eyes so hard they practically spun like fidget spinners. "Shut it, nerd. Just 'cause you’re fit now doesn’t mean you fight." She gave his bicep a mock poke, earning a pyful grin. "You’re still the same dork who used to trip on ft surfaces."

  Emdad chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’m just saying... judo *looks* fun. Throwing people around like sacks of rice? I’d crush it!" But there was a flicker of real regret beh his teasing tone—like he truly believed an alternate universe Emdad was out there, flipping people fold medals.

  Meanwhile, Toya sat oher side, utterly silent, like a statue carved from a single block of tension. Her usually sharp eyes were glued to the match, but her mind? Clearly drifting in James-nd. And oh, the way she was zoned out—it was a masterpiece of distra.

  Mili leaoward her, suspicious but not quite ready to call her out. Toya had been ag... *weird* tely. Everyone knew why, but no one dared say it out loud. Mili gave her a knowing side-eye but let it slide. For now.

  When Banani High finally won the quarter-final, the areed in cheers. Emdad pumped a fist in the air, more out of habit thahusiasm. Mili cpped, yelling encements to her teammates. The whole se vibrated with noise—everyone, except Toya.

  She just sat there. Still. Calm. *Too* calm.

  Somewhere behind them, two cssmates whispered spiratorially. "Why did she even e if she’s not gonna cheer?" "Maybe she just wao see James," the other snickered.

  Mili’s eyes flickered with irritation. The kind of irritation that said, *You fools don’t know the half of it.* But instead of snapping at them, she bit her tongue and threw a sideways g Toya. There it was again—*that look.* The ohat said Toya's brain was on a round-trip flight, destination: James Isnd. urn date booked.

  Emdad, sensing the awkward silehiing around him, cleared his throat. "Sooo... uh, anyone else notice how Toya hasn’t blinked sihe match started?" He smirked, nudging Mili.

  Mili rolled her eyes again, the way only a long-suffering friend could. "Leave her alone. She’s processing."

  But Toya wasn’t just processing. Oh no. Toya was lost in a whole emotional arring James, written in 12-point font with glittery stickers in the margins. *Banani High Judo Team’s Dark Knight!* The way he fought with that effortless ess? *Chef's kiss.* The precision of his throws? *Perfe inate.* A’s not even talk about the way his judo uniform g just right to his shoulders—*someone save me, I’m swooning.*