Chapter Text
March 1st
The hotel room still smelled faintly of sunscreen and burnt rubber.
Outside, Delhi hummed in that constant, layered way cities only do when they don’t really sleep. Traffic in the distance. A horn somewhere. The low thrum of night air conditioners.
Arvid had kicked his shoes off near the door and was half-sprawled across the armchair like a man who had just completed a public service to humanity.
“Your country,” Dino announced from the bed, dramatically fanning himself with a brochure from the Red Bull Moto Jam, “is too hot.”
“It was thirty-two degrees,” Arvid replied without opening his eyes.
“It felt illegal.”
Liam was standing near the window, squinting out at the hazy glow of the city lights. “Why does the air look… textured?”
“That’s just the pollution,” Arvid said mildly.
There was a pause.
Isack stopped scrolling on his phone. “Should you say that so casually?”
Arvid finally opened one eye. “Today is actually one of the better days.”
“Better,” Dino echoed weakly.
“In January the AQI hit five hundred,” Arvid added, like he was discussing mild inconvenience. “That was bad.”
Liam turned from the window slowly. “Five hundred what.”
“Five hundred don’t-go-outside.”
Silence.
Then Liam nodded once. “Right. Noted.”
Arvid pushed himself upright and grabbed a bottle of water. “It cools down at night anyway. You’ll survive.”
As if on cue, a faint breeze slipped through the slightly cracked window. Delhi evenings had that strange duality–furnace by day, almost pleasant by night. Hoodie weather if you were lucky.
Dino flopped onto his back. “I saw posters.”
“That’s vague,” Isack said.
“Colourful ones. Everywhere. ‘Happy Holi!’” Dino waved his hands vaguely. “What’s that?”
Arvid paused mid-sip.
He lowered the bottle slowly.
“It’s a festival,” he said.
“Of?” Liam asked cautiously.
“Colours.”
Blank stares.
Dino sat up. “That’s not descriptive.”
Arvid sighed, but there was the tiniest hint of a smile. “It marks the arrival of spring. It’s also about good overcoming evil. There’s a bonfire the night before– Holika Dahan. And on the actual day people throw coloured powder and water at each other.”
Another beat of silence.
“On purpose?” Isack clarified.
“Yes.”
“With consent?” Liam added.
Arvid considered that. “It’s— understood.”
Dino’s eyes lit up in a way that immediately suggested poor decision-making. “So it’s legal chaos.”
“It’s cultural celebration,” Arvid corrected.
“So legal chaos.”
Arvid ignored him. “Our hotel’s hosting a Holika Dahan tomorrow night. In the courtyard.”
“Oh we’re going,” Dino said instantly.
Liam crossed his arms. “Explain that first.”
Arvid leaned back against the desk, slipping into explanation mode. “Its like a giant bonfire. It represents the burning away of negativity. There’s a story behind it; a long one–but basically it’s symbolic. Families gather. It’s calm. Respectful.”
“So no colour tomorrow?” Isack asked.
“No colour tomorrow,” Arvid confirmed. “That’s on the third.”
“And no one’s going to randomly throw water at us tonight?” Liam pressed.
“No,” Arvid said, slightly amused. “There are unspoken rules. You don’t start early.”
Dino looked almost disappointed.
Arvid pointed a finger at all three of them. “On the third, do not wear anything you actually like.”
“That feels threatening,” Liam said.
“I’m serious.”
“You’re always serious,” Dino accused.
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
Arvid stared at them. “White shirts. Cheap ones. Old shoes. No expensive trainers.”
Liam immediately made a mental note.
Dino, meanwhile, was already grinning. “How permanent is this colour situation?”
“It fades,” Arvid said. “Mostly.”
“Mostly?” Isack repeated.
Arvid took another drink of water and refused to elaborate.
The room dissolved into overlapping questions. Logistics, staining, hair concerns, whether goggles were socially acceptable until eventually it just turned into tired laughter.
Outside, the city noise softened.
Dino shifted closer to Arvid’s chair without making a big deal of it. Casual. Not obvious. Just proximity.
Liam dropped onto the edge of the other bed near Isack, their shoulders brushing for half a second longer than necessary.
No one commented.
. . .
March 2nd
Liam’s room had officially become communal property.
He’d tried, briefly, to suggest that perhaps everyone could “rotate rooms like normal people.”
No one had moved.
Now Dino was lying diagonally across the foot of the bed like a decorative problem. Isack had claimed the desk chair. Arvid was sitting cross-legged on the carpet with his back against the bed, scrolling absently through his phone like this was entirely reasonable behaviour.
Liam stood in the middle of it all with his hands on his hips.
“This is my room.”
Silence.
Dino didn’t even open his eyes. “You’re welcome.”
“For what?”
“Company.”
Arvid snorted quietly without looking up.
The AC hummed. Outside, the sky was sliding from pale gold to that dusky blue Delhi did so well in the evenings. The heat from the afternoon had finally broken; the air beyond the window looked softer now, less sharp.
Isack swiveled slightly in the chair. “It’s nicer at night.”
“It always is,” Arvid said. No elaboration. Just fact.
Liam crossed to the window and pushed it open a fraction more. A cool thread of air slipped in, brushing against the curtains.
“Okay,” he admitted. “That’s actually decent.”
Dino cracked one eye open. “Hoodie weather?”
“Don’t push it.”
Arvid finally locked his phone and dropped it beside him. He looked less exhausted than yesterday..still tired, but settled.
“You’re wearing that?” Dino asked suddenly, propping himself up on his elbows.
Liam looked down at himself. “It’s a black t-shirt.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“It’s very… solemn.”
“It’s comfortable.”
Dino rolled onto his back again. “Tragic.”
Isack leaned his chin into his hand, watching the exchange with quiet amusement. “You’re just offended it’s not neon.”
“Exactly,” Dino said, pointing at him. “See? He gets it.”
Liam stared at both of them. “You’re impossible.”
Arvid’s mouth twitched.
A knock sounded faintly somewhere down the corridor, distant doors opening and closing, muffled footsteps. The hotel felt busier tonight. A subtle shift in energy. Families moving around. Voices in the hall.
Liam glanced toward the door. “What time is it?”
“Six-oh-seven,” Isack replied immediately.
Dino sat up fully now. “When are we going down?”
“Now,” Arvid said.
He pushed himself up from the floor in one smooth movement, stretching his shoulders. Dino’s eyes tracked him in a way that was almost automatic.
Liam noticed.
He didn’t comment.
“Shoes,” Arvid said simply.
Liam blinked. “I know how to put on shoes.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It sounded like that’s what you meant.”
Dino slid off the bed and immediately bumped into Arvid on purpose. Subtle as a brick.
“Move,” Arvid said, but there wasn’t much force behind it.
“Make me.”
Isack made a quiet sound in the back of his throat that might have been a laugh.
They lingered another minute for no real reason. Adjusting sleeves. Checking phones. Dino stealing Liam’s hotel key card and being chased in a slow, unimpressed circle around the room.
Eventually, Arvid reached for the door handle.
“Come on.”
No dramatic speech. No explanations.
Just that.
The hallway was warmer than the room but not suffocating. The elevator ride down was cramped in the way elevators always are when four people pretend they’re not aware of how close they’re standing.
When the doors opened to the lobby level, the difference was immediate.
Soft music. Murmur of conversation. The faint smell of something woody and sweet drifting in from the courtyard.
The hotel staff had strung marigold garlands along the entryway. Small lights glowed along the path leading outside. Families were already gathering, women in bright outfits, kids darting around, older relatives standing in small clusters.
Liam slowed slightly as they stepped out.
“It’s pretty,” he said, quieter than usual.
Arvid glanced at him, then out toward the courtyard where the stacked wood sat in the center, waiting.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
Dino shoved his hands into his pockets, scanning everything with open curiosity instead of chaos for once.
Isack moved closer to Liam without thinking about it.
They lasted ten minutes before splitting up.
The hotel garden looked nothing like it had that morning. Strings of warm lights looped through the trees. Garlands hung from pillars. Someone had set up a small table with sweets and incense near the stacked wood in the center, neatly arranged logs tied together, waiting.
Dino drifted toward a group of kids chasing each other in circles, watching like he was studying strategy.
Isack paused near an older couple who were explaining something to their granddaughter, listening even though he didn’t understand all of it.
Liam stopped near the edge of the courtyard, tilting his head up to take in the lights overhead. His hoodie sleeves were pushed up now; he looked comfortable in a way he hadn’t earlier in the day.
Arvid stood still for a moment.
Just taking it in.
The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and something sweet, maybe jaggery, maybe incense. It was cool enough now that the heat from the afternoon felt like a distant memory.
Dino reappeared at Arvid’s side without announcement.
“They’re explaining the story over there,” he said, nodding toward the small cluster forming near the woodpile. “You translating?”
Arvid glanced over. A hotel staff member was speaking softly, hands moving as he talked; animated but respectful.
“Not unless you want the extended version,” Arvid said.
“I’ll survive,” Dino replied.
Liam and Isack drifted back in at the same time, as if pulled by the same invisible cue.
“What are we waiting for?” Liam asked quietly.
“Lighting,” Arvid said.
They edged closer with the rest of the crowd, not pushing, just folding into the semicircle forming around the wood. The murmur of voices lowered gradually, not silence, but a collective softening.
The staff member finished speaking. A small tray was passed forward. Someone handed a lit diya to an elderly woman near the front. She stepped forward carefully, slow and deliberate.
The first flame touched the base of the wood.
Nothing happened at first.
Then a thread of smoke curled upward.
A flicker, then another.
The fire caught slowly, not explosive, not dramatic. Just steady. Growing.
The warmth spread outward in gentle waves. Light danced across faces, turning marigolds gold and shadows deep. The crackling of wood took over. Sharp pops, low hums. The smoke rose cleanly into the night sky, carrying sparks with it.
Arvid watched the flames for a long moment.
There was something grounding about it. Familiar in a way that didn’t require explanation.
Beside him, Dino’s usual restless energy had stilled.
Liam rubbed his hands together once, not from cold–from habit–eyes reflecting orange light.
Isack glanced sideways at him, then back at the fire.
Families stepped forward one by one, circling the flames, murmuring quiet prayers. A child laughed somewhere behind them before being gently shushed.
Dino leaned slightly toward Arvid. “It’s calmer than I expected.”
“It’s supposed to be,” Arvid said.
The fire grew stronger, wood collapsing inward as the center burned brighter.
For a moment, all four of them stood there–warm light on their faces, city noise muted beyond the courtyard walls–and it didn’t feel like a foreign place.
Just a shared one.
Liam exhaled slowly. “I’m glad we came down.”
Arvid nodded once.
“Yeah,” he said.