Tora sat by her window, sketchbook in hand, her pencil gliding over the paper as she absentmindedly traced the outline of a faceless figure. The evening breeze ruffled her hair as she glanced at her phone, her fake social media account "myselfpotato" open. She scrolled through her batchmates' profiles, watching their joyful posts about love, relationships, and adventures. A sigh escaped her lips - love was for adults, she thought, never realizing she had already stepped into adulthood herself.

Tora had always been introverted, preferring the solitude of her drawings over social gatherings. Growing up in a household where love was rarely expressed, she had built walls around herself. Her parents' constant arguments made her believe that love only brought pain. She avoided romantic relationships, immersing herself in her studies, a small circle of friends, and her art. Drawing was her escape, her way of making sense of the emotions she never spoke aloud.

Suddenly, a friend request popped up.

It was from Shaan.

Shaan was the kind of person who blended easily into any crowd. He was charismatic, outgoing, and effortlessly popular.

Tora had been using her anonymous account, "myselfpotato," for months, casually liking posts, commenting on memes, and observing from a distance. She never thought anyone would notice. But Shaan did.

Shaan: "You know, I'm starting to think you're a stalker."

Tora: "Excuse me?"

Shaan: "This 'myselfpotato' account. Always online when I am. Always liking the same posts. Always reacting to the things I say. Suspicious, don't you think?"

Tora: "You think too much."

Shaan: "And you pretend too much. But you made a mistake."

Tora: "Oh really? What mistake?"

Shaan: "A few days ago, I asked in our college group about the physics assignment. Nobody responded - except 'myselfpotato.' And guess who also turned in the exact same answers in class the next day?"

Tora froze. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Had she really been that careless?

Shaan: "And that's not all. This 'potato' person types like you - same way of using dots? like this. Same way of hesitating before responding. Same dry sarcasm."

Tora: "You're overanalyzing. Many people type like that."

Shaan: "Maybe. But they don't also disappear at the exact same time you do. And they don't laugh at my dumb jokes the way you do."

Tora felt her pulse quicken. He had noticed. He had really noticed.

Tora: "So what if it's me?"

Shaan: "I knew it." He sent a grinning emoji. "You could've just sent me a friend request with your real account, you know."

Tora: "I wasn't spying on you if that's what you think."

Shaan: "Relax, detective. I'm not mad. In fact? I think it's kinda cute."

Tora: "Shut up."

Shaan: "Nope. Not when I've just confirmed that the mysterious 'myselfpotato' is actually my favorite introvert. Typical Tora."

Tora sighed, but deep down, she felt something stir - something unfamiliar, something warm. He had seen through her mask, and somehow, it didn't feel so bad.

Tora: "And how do you know what's 'typical' for me?"

Shaan: "Because I notice things. Like how you always sit at the back of the class, lost in your drawings. Or how you disappear after college instead of hanging out like the rest of us."

Tora hesitated. How did he notice all that?

Tora: "Maybe I just don't like unnecessary socializing."

Shaan: "Or maybe you just haven't found the right company yet."

Tora rolled her eyes but found herself smiling.

Tora: "Flirting won't work on me, just so you know."

Shaan: "Flirting? Who said I was flirting? Maybe I'm just naturally charming."

Tora: "More like naturally annoying."

Shaan: "Ouch. But okay, I accept the challenge. Let's see how long you can ignore me."

And just like that, their late-night chats became a routine, turning into something neither of them had expected.

Suddenly, for three days, Tora vanished from everywhere - no messages, no posts, no late-night chats. She had simply gone silent.

Shaan noticed.

At first, he assumed she was busy, but as hours turned into days, frustration crept in. She never left without a word. Something was wrong.

Then, on the third evening, as Tora walked home from college, head down, earphones in, she saw him.

Shaan was leaning against his bike near the campus gate, arms crossed, eyes locked onto her the moment she stepped out.

Tora's steps faltered.

He wasn't smiling.

"Why didn't you come online?" he demanded.

She hesitated before mumbling, "I didn't have a recharge."

Shaan: "You didn't even tell me. Do you know how crazy that made me?" His jaw clenched. "I thought something happened to you."

Her heart twisted. "I didn't mean to make you worry."

Shaan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He took a step closer, his voice softer now. "You don't get to do that, Tora. Not to me."

She looked up, meeting his gaze - intense, filled with something she couldn't quite name.

Tora: "I'm sorry."

Shaan: "Don't disappear like that again."

She gave a small nod, and for the first time in days, she felt something shift.

Shaan let out a small huff, tilting his head. "Now, recharge your damn phone. You owe me three days' worth of conversation."

And just like that, the tension broke. She laughed softly, and he grinned.

That night, she logged in, and Shaan was already waiting.

"Tora," he typed, his messages coming quickly. "I don't know how to say this properly. I never thought I'd feel this way, but... I like you. No - scratch that - I love you."

Tora stared at the screen, her fingers trembling. "Shaan..."

"No, let me finish," he continued. "You're not like anyone else. You don't try to impress anyone. You don't chase attention. You're just... you. And I love the way you argue when I tease you. I love how you get lost in your drawings and how you act all serious but secretly care so much. I don't want an answer right now. Just - just know this. I'll wait."

Tora's heart pounded. She had never thought someone would see her like that.

Slowly, their connection deepened - late-night calls, voice messages, and endless texts.

One night, as they talked under their blankets, voices hushed in the quiet of the night, Shaan whispered, "Do you know why I recognized you, even behind that fake account?"

Tora smiled faintly. "Why?"

"Because you're different. Even without a picture, I could feel you - your words, the way you type, the way you pause before replying. I knew it was you. And I knew I wanted to know you more."

Another evening, as they chatted, Shaan sent a voice note. "Close your eyes," he said.

"Why?" she asked, laughing.

"Just do it."

She obeyed.

"Now imagine I'm right next to you. I'm holding your hand, tracing circles on your palm. I'm looking at you, and you're smiling that shy smile of yours. Can you feel it?"

Tora bit her lip, heat rising to her cheeks. "Shaan?"

"I wish I was there."

And for the first time, she wished so too.

Their love story unfolded like a dream - romantic texts, teasing banter, the way he would always call her "potato" just to hear her complain. When she was sick, he stayed up all night texting her remedies, and when she was sad, he sent her voice recordings of him singing terribly just to make her laugh. They talked about their future, the places they wanted to visit together, the things they would do.

During college classes, they built a silent language of their own. When Shaan entered the room, his eyes would search for hers instinctively, and the moment they met, a spark ignited. He would raise an eyebrow playfully, and she would roll her eyes, hiding her smile behind her book. Sometimes, when the professor turned to the board, he would send her quick texts.

*"Looking beautiful today."*

She would glance at her phone, bite her lip, and text back. *"Focus on the lecture, idiot."*

One time, while the professor was discussing a particularly dull topic, Shaan scribbled something on a small piece of paper and slid it onto her desk.

*"If you look at me one more time like that, I swear I'll kidnap you right now."*

Tora blushed, stuffing the note into her book. She refused to look at him for the rest of the lecture, though she could feel his gaze on her.

During exams, they struggled to concentrate, often thinking about each other even in the exam hall. Tora found herself smiling at her answer sheet, recalling Shaan's words from the night before.

"If you don't focus, I'm going to kidnap you after exams and make you study for real."

She had laughed, teasing back, "And if you fail, I won't even talk to you."

Shaan smirked, "Guess I have no choice but to pass, huh?"

But after the exams, everything changed.

Shaan stopped messaging her. At first, she assumed he was busy, but soon, his replies became cold and distant. She reassured herself, refusing to believe the worst.

Tora had always been careful with her heart. But Shaan - he had made her believe, made her trust.

And then, just like that, he broke her.

It started with the distance. The missed calls. The late replies. She told herself he was just busy. But the gut feeling - the one she had ignored for weeks - tightened like a noose around her chest.

Then came the night that changed everything.

Shaan had been avoiding her texts all evening. She was curled up in bed, the dim light of her screen, the only source of warmth in her dark room. Her parents were arguing in the next room, voices sharp, cutting into her like knives. She needed Shaan.

She called once. No answer.

Twice. No answer.

Third time.

Finally, he picked up.

"Who is this?" His voice was distant, uninterested.

Tora blinked. "Shaan? it's me."

A pause. Then a sigh. "Oh. What's up?"

What's up? The words stung.

"You've been? busy?" Her voice was smaller than she intended.

"Yeah, kinda. Can we talk later? I'm outside."

Outside. She could hear laughter in the background, music, and the clinking of glasses.

"Where are you?"

"Just out with some people. I'll call you later, okay?"

He hung up before she could respond.

Her stomach twisted. Something was wrong.

Then, the message came.

A batchmate. Someone she barely talked to.

"Hey, are you Shaan's girlfriend?"

Tora frowned, typing back. "No. Why?"

The reply came instantly.

"Oh. Thank God. He proposed to Sanskriti today in front of everyone. It was so romantic! We thought you weren't invited, so I got confused."

Tora felt like the air had been knocked from her lungs. Her fingers trembled as she clicked on the attached picture.

Shaan, standing in a crowded restaurant, has a wide smile on his face. Sanskriti in his arms. A ring on her finger.

Her chest constricted.

Tora felt her heart stop. Trembling, she messaged Shaan, asking if it was true.

She waited for him to tell her it was a joke. A misunderstanding. But his reply came hours later, short and merciless.

"Yes, it's true."

That was it. No explanation. No apology.

Tora stared at her screen, the words blurring as hot tears slipped down her cheeks. Her heart pounded so hard it hurt.

He had made her trust him. He had made her believe. And then, without a second thought, he had thrown her away.

It took some time to settle herself.

She didn't cry. She didn't scream. She calmly opened her phone, blocked him everywhere, and closed her eyes. The pain was silent, suffocating, but she refused to let it consume her.

Instead, she picked up her sketchbook, flipping to a blank page. Her fingers trembled as she sketched. A faceless figure. The evening breeze. An ache in the chest.

Then, a notification popped up.

A friend request.

From Shaan.

Tora's breath caught. She glanced at her sketchbook and realized - she had drawn this moment before.

The evening breeze, the faceless figure, the ache in her chest. She had seen this before. She had lived this before.

This was all d�j� vu.

The cycle had begun again.

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D�j� vu is the eerie sensation of reliving a moment as if it has happened before, even when experiencing it for the first time. But for Tora, it was more than just a fleeting feeling - it was a premonition, a glimpse into a future she had unknowingly drawn in her subconscious mind.

Every moment - the first message, the late-night confessions, the silent exchanges in class, the heartbreak - had already played out before she even lived it. Her sketchbook held traces of a story she had not yet experienced but somehow knew.

When she received that friend request from Shaan after blocking him, reality clicked into place. She had seen it all before. Every detail, every emotion, every ache in her heart - it wasn't just familiarity; it was fate circling back.

Had she truly lived this before, or had her heart warned her all along? Was she destined to walk this path again?

The cycle had begun again.

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