Rearranging Worlds

Neil’s room was still bare. Four plain walls, a bed pushed awkwardly to the corner, and an unopened suitcase leaning against the desk. Sunlight poured in through the window, making the emptiness feel even louder.

Neil knelt by the suitcase, carefully unzipping it. Inside: neatly folded clothes, a pencil case, two novels, and a stack of pristine notebooks. He lifted each item like it was something fragile, placing it in its spot with care.

Aarav leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed, watching with a bored expression.

(Thoughts):
Great. The kid actually enjoys unpacking. Meanwhile, I’ve got a chair in my room that’s been holding dirty clothes hostage for two months.

From downstairs, his mom’s voice called:
“Aaru, help Neil with his room! Don’t just stand there!”

Aarav clicked his tongue.
“Tch. Of course.”

He shuffled in, slouching, and dropped himself onto the bed like a sack of potatoes. Neil turned with a polite smile.

Neil:
“You don’t have to, you know. I can handle it.”

Aarav (deadpan):
“Trust me, I’m not here because I want to be.”

Neil chuckled lightly, then returned to unpacking.

[Scene – The Work Begins]

Neil lifted his books.
“Could you pass me that shelf space?”

Aarav groaned but reached over, shoving a few random items aside to make space. A half-broken pen rolled off the shelf and clattered to the floor.

Neil:
“Is this yours?”

Aarav:
“Nope. Evidence from a past crime scene. Don’t touch it.”

Neil blinked, then laughed harder than expected.
“You’re weird.”

Aarav (smirk faintly):
“Finally, someone noticed.”

They continued. Neil stacked his notebooks carefully, color-coded, while Aarav stood nearby pretending to “supervise.”

Aarav (mock serious):
“Good job, soldier. That’s the red notebook division. Very disciplined.”

Neil (playing along):
“Yes, sir! Blue division ready for duty!”

They saluted each other, then cracked up.

[Scene – Clothes Disaster]

Neil pulled out a neatly folded shirt and placed it in the wardrobe. Aarav leaned against the wall, unimpressed.

Aarav (dry tone):
“You actually fold every single shirt? That’s… commitment.”

Neil (grinning):
“Of course. It keeps things clean.”

Aarav:
“My system’s cleaner. Step one: throw clothes on the chair. Step two: wait three days. Step three: wear whatever survives.”

Neil laughed, shaking his head. He pulled out another shirt but fumbled and dropped it on the floor. Aarav bent down, picked it up, and attempted to fold it. The result looked more like a crumpled rectangle.

Neil (raising an eyebrow):
“…What is that?”

Aarav (straight face):
“A fold. Obviously.”

Neil (snorting):
“That’s not a fold, that’s a hostage situation.”

Aarav (tossing it back into the wardrobe):
“Doesn’t matter. Once you close the door, nobody knows the crime happened.”

Neil burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. Aarav cracked a small grin.

[Scene – Final Touches]

Soon the room looked alive. Books neatly aligned, bed sheets straightened, clothes organized. It felt warm—like someone actually belonged there.

Neil wiped his forehead.
“Phew. Done!”

Aarav slumped onto the chair.
“How are you still breathing? If I moved this much in one afternoon, they’d have to call an ambulance.”

Neil chuckled, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
“Guess I’m used to it. Back home, I do morning runs, help Mom, then school. My body just… works on routine.”

Aarav squinted.
“Morning runs? Voluntarily?”

Neil nodded.

Aarav leaned forward, serious.
“You’re a psychopath.”

Neil burst out laughing, clutching his stomach.
“W-what? No! It’s healthy!”

Aarav waved dismissively.
“Healthy is waking up at noon and stretching once. That’s peak human performance.”

Neil:
“Yeah, if you’re a cat.”

Aarav:
“Exactly. Cats are geniuses. They sleep, they eat, they ignore everyone. Life goals.”

They both cracked up again, the laughter echoing through the small room.

After a while, they stepped out of the room together and flopped onto the living room sofa, still chuckling.

As the laughter faded, Neil leaned back, glancing at the family photos on the desk—the same younger Aarav with medals and trophies.

Neil (softly, almost to himself):
“…You really used to be amazing, huh?”

Aarav froze, his smile fading. He looked at Neil, expression unreadable.

(Thoughts):
Why did that sting more than it should’ve?

The room fell quiet for a beat too long.