The bell rang sharply across the playground, slicing through the laughter of children and calling them back to class. It was the first day of second grade, and little Ayaan sat nervously at the edge of the classroom, hugging his backpack. He had recently moved to the town, a shy boy with big eyes and a curious heart. The teacher introduced him, and he quietly took the last empty seat next to a girl with two neatly braided pigtails.

"Hi, I'm Meera," she whispered, smiling as she slid a crayon across the desk. "You can borrow mine. You forgot yours, didn't you?"

Ayaan nodded, surprised. No one had spoken to him so kindly since the move. That crayon - a simple blue - marked the beginning of something beautiful.

Over the months, Ayaan and Meera became inseparable. They would walk home together under the gulmohar trees, trade lunchboxes filled with parathas and jam sandwiches, and spend long hours talking about dreams and silly fears. While other kids played tag, they sat on the swings, imagining far-off lands and fairy tales where best friends never had to say goodbye.

One rainy afternoon, while hiding under the school library's staircase, Meera told Ayaan, "You're my favorite person. I wish we stay best friends forever."

He grinned, handing her a paper boat. "Even when we're old, we'll still talk every day. Promise."

They made a secret handshake, sealing the vow with giggles and muddy shoes.

But childhood is as fleeting as paper boats in a storm.

Near the end of that school year, Meera's father received a job transfer. The news came like thunder - loud, unexpected, and unfair. She didn't know how to tell Ayaan. On her last day, she left a small note inside his desk:

"You'll always be my first best friend. Don't forget me."

But the wind must have carried it away, for Ayaan never found it.

The next morning, her seat was empty. Her crayon was gone. And so was she.

Ayaan searched the playground every day, hoping she'd reappear with that mischievous grin. But weeks turned into months, and the seasons changed. Slowly, the memories blurred, like chalk on a rainy blackboard. He grew up with an empty swing next to his, never knowing the little girl who changed his world would return - fifteen years later - as a stranger with familiar eyes.