Work Text:
Daylight saving time arrived, and with it, the temperature frequently dipped to single digits. The once-lush streets were now carpeted with red leaves. A pedestrian wrapped in a trench coat hurried through the university's neighborhood. As the sky darkened, he turned his head slightly, and the warm yellow glow from a nearby window brushed against his cold, stiff cheek, bringing a sudden warmth. Inside, students were engaged in an animated discussion—perhaps about the Halloween party? A relaxed smile crept onto his face, memories of pumpkin pie flooding his mind. He quickened his pace toward home.
---
The atmosphere indoors was lively, even excessively cheerful. The university’s star student, the psychoanalysis prodigy from the College of Arts and Sciences, and the president of the Bansuri Flute Club—Krishna—was surrounded by a crowd. The spacious activity hall felt somewhat cramped as everyone listened intently to his words.
“So, this is the draft plan for next week’s Halloween club event. If there are any revisions needed, please contact Collins from the Club Management Department or email me.” Krishna announced.
Today, he had tied up his curly long hair, letting it rest casually at the nape of his neck. His eyes, under the clear indoor lighting, shimmered like flowing water, and his skin glowed with a vibrant hue, cheeks faintly flushed from the warmth of the room.
Arjuna hadn’t heard a thing—it was too noisy. But fortunately, he was tall enough to see clearly.
The crowd suddenly quieted, likely because Krishna had mentioned something important again. Arjuna squeezed forward, straining to listen, and only caught the last few words: “…Now, I’ll randomly select…one key role from among you.”
Just as he was puzzling over it, the crowd parted like the tide, shifting to either side of him. Arjuna looked up in surprise, meeting the gaze of the person walking toward him. A subtle thrill coursed through him.
Krishna wore that captivating smile, as if they were old friends, and pointed lightly at him, lips moving: “You’re the one, Arjuna.”
Arjuna’s mind short-circuited, but he thought, since things had come to this, he might as well say yes. So he immediately replied, “Okay, okay.”
A friendly whoop erupted from the crowd.
---
“Yes, this is my stage art project. Please, you two, put on the corresponding costumes.”
In the temporary dressing room, Subhadra consulted her script while explaining the play’s premise to the lucky winner. The play was adapted from the recently popular short novel [The Beauty Archer and Her Bodyguard]. No one knew how this absurd story had suddenly gone viral—perhaps it was dramatic and exaggerated enough? Or maybe the plot was uniquely flavorful? In any case, in this stage play, Arjuna was to play a beauty archer named “Brihannala,” who, alongside her bodyguard Govinda (played by Krishna), saves the princess of Kashi.
“The key is ‘beauty’! You must convey emotion through your eyes, leave a lasting impression,” Subhadra said, handing Arjuna a rose-red sari and golden armlets. She found the artistic expression she wanted in his remarkably compliant demeanor. “Yes, exactly—innocent yet powerful.”
Krishna, catching his gaze, let out a soft chuckle.
With the help of several makeup artists, Arjuna struggled into his costume. Standing before the mirror, he exclaimed in surprise, “This outfit fits so well!”
Krishna wore an expression of understanding but raised an eyebrow, tilting his head, and deliberately said, “Indeed, what a coincidence!”
Arjuna, hearing this, simply considered himself lucky. His eyes shifted briefly between the siblings. “What a fortunate coincidence.”
Krishna replied, barely containing his laughter, “Good thing we picked you, isn’t it?”
Subhadra: ?
---
One had to admit—Subhadra was truly a talented stage artist. Her work was so outstanding that as soon as the play ended, a wave of students rushed forward… to ask Arjuna for his Instagram.
Subhadra had not planned for this, but the response was overwhelmingly positive.
A business school student: “Oh my, Brihannala is so beautiful! I love your lips!”
A club member: “I support Brihannala for the next Archery Club president. Who dares to oppose?”
The campus TV host: “Miss Brihannala, we’d like to interview you about your interpretation of the role.”
As everyone knew, Arjuna was an exceedingly friendly person—almost to a fault (not really). Faced with enthusiastic fans, he earnestly responded to each one. Just then, Krishna slipped unnoticed to his side. When his arm brushed against Arjuna’s shoulder, the ever-capable Miss Brihannala visibly trembled.
Arjuna once again fell into the vortex of those eyes—by now, he had given up resisting.
Krishna’s voice seeped into his ear, word by word, seemingly drowning out the backstage chaos. “As the honorarium, Partha, I’d like to invite you to dinner.”
The beautiful and formidable Miss Brihannala trembled, parting red lips stiffly, and blurted out a string of YES.
An archery club member, seemingly unaware of Arjuna’s predicament, interjected anxiously, “Arjuna, the skills competition is coming up. As vice president, will you be giving the speech?”
Krishna, with a knowing expression, repeated, “It’s your turn to speak.”
Miss Brihannala smiled politely, with dazzling eyes widening.
“It’s time for dinner now.”
---
Krishna and Arjuna entered a French-style bistro. The server led them to a table on the third-floor terrace, where they could see the distant twinkling lights and the orderly rows of modern high-rises.
After sitting down, Arjuna couldn’t help but remark, “A street-view spot, how amazing!”
Krishna: “Yes, today is truly lucky.”
Miss Brihannala’s sleek black hair cascaded over her shoulders. The light refracted by the terrace’s crystal chandelier flowed over her lips, glistening with a honeyed sheen.
The smart Miss Brihannala grew suspicious. “Did you… make a reservation in advance, Madhava?”
Krishna’s expression was slightly obscured in the backlight, but Arjuna could see the cunning curve of his lips.
“Not at all. The owner is an old friend. He just happened to guess I’d come and reserved it specially for me.”
Arjuna laughed at his earnest tone and simply replied, “How nice.”
Just then, light footsteps approached. A server arrived with an exquisite silver platter, on which stood an enticing orange dessert.
The server said, “Excuse me. Today, our chef specially prepared a limited hidden-menu dessert for every couple: salted cheese pumpkin pie.”
Brihannala’s eyes drifted toward Govinda.
Krishna flashed his charming smile again, nodding to the server. “Thank you, miss.”
Then, the cunning psycho analyst, keenly sensing something, teasingly propped his chin on his hand and gazed at Arjuna across the table, feigning concern. “I don’t think it’s warm here, Partha. Perhaps Subhadra used wool for the costume.”
---
Not far away.
A man in a trench coat was on the phone with his mother, who addressed him as Karna.
“Oh, I just saw Arjuna… It’s fine, I happened to have business nearby, so I’m just wandering around. Mom, I saw Arjuna. He looked exceptionally radiant today—like that character from the adapted play you’ve been binge-watching. Mhmm, maybe he really is on a date with that bodyguard across from him. Hahaha, alright, I love you too. Good night, and pleasant dreams. Mom.”