...Chapter 1 – A Message in the Inbox...

Ananya had been scrolling through her nursing college study group app for nearly an hour, pretending she was studying but actually procrastinating. The anatomy notes looked like some alien language, and the only thing keeping her awake was the endless chain of memes her classmates shared.

She sighed, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and tapped on the “Suggested Friends” tab. Most of them were fellow students, but one profile caught her eye.

Username: ShadowWalker

Profile picture: a blurry city skyline at night.

Bio: “Not here to impress. Don’t bother.”

“Oooh, edgy,” Ananya muttered, biting her lip to hide a grin. What kind of guy puts something like that?

On impulse, she clicked the message button and typed:

“Hi, ShadowWalker. Why so mysterious? Are you Batman?”

She giggled at her own boldness and tossed her phone aside. He probably wouldn’t reply anyway.

Ten minutes later, the phone buzzed. Her eyes widened. He had replied.

ShadowWalker: “Not Batman. Don’t waste your time.”

Ananya blinked, then burst out laughing. What a rude reply! But also… interesting.

Without hesitation, she typed back.

Ananya: “Wow, someone’s grumpy. Don’t worry, I have plenty of time to waste.”

There was a pause. She imagined him staring at the screen, debating whether to reply. Finally—

ShadowWalker: “Find someone else to chat with. I’m not interested.”

Most people would’ve taken the hint. But Ananya was not “most people.” She smirked.

Ananya: “Too bad. I already decided you’re my new friend.”

Another long pause. No reply. She shrugged, thinking maybe she pushed too much. But the next day, when she woke up, there was a notification waiting.

ShadowWalker: “You’re persistent.”

Her heart leapt. She typed back instantly.

Ananya: “Of course. Someone has to melt that icy heart of yours. Challenge accepted.”

For Ruhan—aka ShadowWalker—it was supposed to be a one-off. A random girl trying to strike up conversation. Normally, he’d block and move on. He didn’t do chit-chat. Not in his line of work, and certainly not with strangers online.

But for some reason, he hadn’t blocked her. Maybe it was her ridiculous Batman comment. Maybe it was the way she replied without hesitation, unafraid of his cold tone. He didn’t know.

And now, instead of reviewing mission files, he found himself staring at the chat window, waiting for her next silly message.

“Good morning, Shadow! Did you have breakfast?”

Ruhan frowned at the screen. Why is she asking about my breakfast?

He typed back, short and precise.

ShadowWalker: “Yes.”

A minute later—

Ananya: “What did you eat? Don’t tell me it’s just coffee. That’s not healthy!”

He sighed. Why does she care?

ShadowWalker: “Omelette.”

Ananya: “Okay, fine. I’ll allow it. Barely.”

Ruhan rubbed his temple. Who even talks like this? And why was he… smiling?

Over the next few weeks, her messages kept coming—bright, bubbly, and annoyingly cheerful. She sent memes of dancing cats, jokes about medical students’ lack of sleep, even voice notes where she laughed at herself.

And every time, against his better judgment, he replied. Just short sentences, nothing revealing. But she made sure the conversation never died.

One night, she sent:

Ananya: “You know, you never laugh in texts. Not even a ‘lol.’ Are you secretly a robot?”

Ruhan stared at the message. For a second, he actually chuckled. The sound startled even him.

ShadowWalker: “Maybe I am. You wouldn’t know.”

Ananya: “Pfft. If you’re a robot, then I’m your software update. Version: Fun 2.0.”

He shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. This girl… she was trouble. Sweet, sunshine-colored trouble.

And though he didn’t admit it yet, Ruhan knew one thing for sure:

He wasn’t going to block her.

...Chapter 2 – Sunshine vs. Ice...

Ananya never admitted it out loud, but checking her phone had quietly become the highlight of her day. Not Instagram. Not her class group. Not even her best friends’ texts. No—it was him.

ShadowWalker.

Or rather, Ruhan, though she didn’t know his real name yet.

Every reply from him was like a little puzzle—short, cold, almost reluctant—but somehow, she loved the challenge of cracking him open.

“Good luck for your exams,” he texted one evening, out of nowhere.

Ananya blinked at the screen. He never started conversations first. Never.

Her lips curled into a smile.

Ananya: “Well, well, look who’s suddenly being nice. Careful, or I’ll think you care about me.”

There was a pause, then his reply came in.

ShadowWalker: “Don’t overthink. Just being polite.”

Ananya chuckled, shaking her head. “Uh-huh. Sure. I’ll let you keep your cool-guy act.”

The exams came and went, and though she was exhausted, she still found herself opening the chat window late at night, talking to him about everything and nothing.

Her classmates teased her about always grinning at her phone.

“Who is it, huh? Spill it, Ananya!”

She would wave them off, cheeks warm. “It’s just… a friend.”

But deep down, she knew it wasn’t just a friend anymore.

One night, after a particularly long day in the hospital lab, she messaged him:

Ananya: “Do you ever get tired? Like… really tired? Where you just want someone to tell you it’s okay to stop for a bit?”

The typing dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. Finally—

ShadowWalker: “Yes. Often.”

She sat up straighter. He actually admitted something personal.

Ananya: “So what do you do when that happens?”

ShadowWalker: “Keep going. No choice.”

Her heart ached a little. She wanted to reach through the screen, shake him, and say, You’re allowed to rest, you know. Instead, she typed:

Ananya: “Well… if I were there, I’d bring you coffee and chocolate. And I’d make you laugh until you forgot you were tired.”

There was a long silence. Then—

ShadowWalker: “You’re strange.”

Ananya grinned.

Ananya: “Strange is good. Otherwise, you’d be bored of me already.”

For the first time, he didn’t deny it.

And that’s how it happened. Quietly. Slowly.

She started falling.

Not because he was sweet—he wasn’t. Not because he showered her with compliments—he definitely didn’t. But because underneath all his coldness, she sensed something hidden. A softness he refused to show.

She wanted to be the one to find it.

A few days later, she tried a little experiment.

Ananya: “Okay, serious question. If I disappeared tomorrow, would you miss me?”

She waited, heart pounding. Maybe he’d ignore it. Maybe he’d laugh it off.

The reply came after what felt like an eternity.

ShadowWalker: “Don’t disappear.”

Ananya’s breath caught. Just two words, but they warmed her entire chest.

She typed back quickly, fingers trembling.

Ananya: “Promise I won’t. You’re stuck with me, mister ice block.”

And for the first time, she didn’t care if she was pestering him. Because now, she was sure of it.

She had fallen first.

...Chapter 3 – Cracks in the Ice...

Ruhan wasn’t sure when it started.

At first, she was just another name on his phone—a persistent stranger who refused to leave him alone. He’d thought she would get bored eventually. People always did.

But Ananya… she stayed.

Day after day, she popped up in his inbox with silly questions, funny stories, and photos of random things—her messy notes, her late-night coffee mug, even a picture of her tangled earphones with the caption: “Help. They’ve evolved into a new species.”

And against his better judgment, he found himself waiting for them.

---

One rainy evening, while Ruhan sat in his silent apartment reviewing mission codes, her message lit up his screen.

Ananya: “Ugh. Today was a disaster.”

He frowned. Normally she started with jokes or sunshine emojis.

ShadowWalker: “What happened?”

Ananya: “Practical exam. I dropped a tray of instruments. Everyone stared at me like I’d committed murder.”

Ruhan smirked at the mental image.

ShadowWalker: “Clumsy.”

Ananya: “Hey! You’re supposed to comfort me, not roast me.”

For a moment, he considered ignoring it, like he usually did when she demanded more than he was willing to give. But instead, his fingers moved on their own.

ShadowWalker: “Doesn’t matter. You’ll do better next time.”

He stared at the screen, almost shocked. Did he just… encourage her?

The reply came instantly.

Ananya: “Wow. Did you just say something nice to me? Mark the calendar, Shadow finally has feelings!”

He sighed, shaking his head, but his lips betrayed him with the faintest curve.

---

From that day, the tone shifted.

He didn’t suddenly become warm—no, that wasn’t in his nature—but he began to let her in, little by little.

When she asked about his favorite food, he actually answered.

When she teased him about his lack of emojis, he sent a reluctant “🙂” once, which she immediately screenshotted.

And when she disappeared for a whole day, he caught himself checking his phone more often than usual.

That night, when she finally texted, her message was simple:

Ananya: “Sorry, long day. Did you miss me?”

He stared at it for a long time. His instincts told him not to reply, to keep the walls up. But he typed anyway.

ShadowWalker: “Yes.”

Her reply exploded onto the screen.

Ananya: “OH. MY. GOD. I need to frame this message. Cold mister Shadow admits he missed me!!! 🥳”

He groaned, already regretting it. But at the same time… he didn’t.

---

A week later, she sent him a photo. Not a meme, not her notes—just her face, smiling at the camera with her hair tied up messily. The caption read: “This is me after a 12-hour hospital shift. Still cute, right?”

Ruhan froze. He didn’t usually deal with pictures, especially not personal ones. But his eyes lingered on hers longer than he intended.

He typed back.

ShadowWalker: “You look tired.”

Ananya: “RUHAN. That’s not the answer I was fishing for.”

He blinked. She’d typed his name. His real name.

“How—” he started to type, but stopped. Of course. She must have seen it somewhere—his profile glitch, or a tiny slip he hadn’t noticed.

Instead of panicking, he typed back:

ShadowWalker: “So you found it.”

Ananya: “Ruhan suits you better than ShadowWalker. Less dramatic.”

For the first time in years, he let out a genuine laugh.