Shubmanxishan
The phone buzzed quietly against the wooden table, screen lighting up for a brief momentâIshuð.
Shubman's attention was elsewhere, lost in the dull routine of his day. The call faded into silence, unnoticed, unimportant in the moment.
Hours later, that same phone sat heavy in his trembling hand, the screen glowing with the words he'd give anything to change: 1 Missed Call - Ishuð, 3:47 PM.
Shubman's heart raced, the words blurring as his mind struggled to process the message he'd just received.
"Ishan... accident... critical condition... hospital."
The words echoed, hollow and sharp, piercing through him with every repetition. His mind refused to believe, but his body moved on instinctâkeys grabbed, car door slammed, engine roared to life.
The city passed by in a blur of lights and colors, none of it mattering.
The hospital's sterile walls felt colder than he'd ever imagined. The sharp scent of disinfectant stung his nose, grounding him in a reality he desperately wanted to escape.
His footsteps echoed down the corridor, heart pounding louder with each step.
He found them thereâRohit, Virat, Hardik, and the othersâhuddled in the harsh glow of fluorescent lights, faces shadowed with worry.
Conversations were hushed, their usual energy replaced by a suffocating tension.
Hardik stood apart, pacing like a caged lion, fists clenched, jaw tight. His connection to Ishan was more than friendshipâit was brotherhood.
Shubman approached, his legs feeling like lead.
Hardik was the first to notice him, eyes bloodshot, filled with an anger born from fear.
"You're finally here," he muttered, voice rough. "They haven't told us anything yet."
Shubman's mouth opened, but no words came. Instead, he pulled out his phone, almost subconsciously, and there it wasâthe missed call.
His breath hitched. His thumb hovered over the screen as if he could will time to rewind, to answer it, to change everything.
Rohit noticed, his gaze dropping to the phone.
"When was that?" he asked softly.
"3:47 PM," Shubman whispered, voice barely audible.
A silence fell over them, heavier than any words.
Hardik's face twisted with grief and frustration.
"Why didn't you answer?" The words weren't an accusation, but they hit like one.
"I.... I don't know," Shubman admitted, his voice cracking. "I didn't see it. I didn'tâ"
But excuses felt pointless. The guilt was already there, lodged deep in his chest.
Hours felt like days. The doctor's updates were brief, clinicalâ"Severe head trauma. Stable for now. We're doing our best." But none of it eased the knot in Shubman's chest.
The group sat in scattered silence. Siraj tried to crack a joke, his usual chaotic energy dulled, the laughter never coming. Rishabh offered quiet reassurances, though his own hands trembled.
Hardik eventually slumped into a chair, burying his face in his hands.
"He was just talking about plans for the weekend," he muttered. "Dumb plans. Nothing important. Now I'd give anything to hear him ramble about that again."
Shubman listened, his heart aching with words left unsaid. Memories flooded inâthe drunken nights when he almost confessed, the texts he typed and deleted, the way Ishan's smile lingered longer in his mind than it should have.
Visiting hours stretched into the night. Eventually, the others stepped out for some air, leaving Shubman alone with Ishan.
The beeping machines were the only sound, each beep a painful reminder that life was fragile, hanging by threads of hope and medical intervention.
Shubman pulled a chair beside the bed, his eyes tracing Ishan's faceâbruised, pale, yet unmistakably him. He reached out, fingers trembling, brushing lightly against Ishan's hand. It was warm, but lifeless.
"Ishan," he whispered, his voice raw. "I saw your call. I didn't answer. I was busy with... nothing important. And now I'd give anything to hear your voice."
Tears blurred his vision, but he didn't stop. The dam had broken.
"I should've said this a long time ago. I thought I had time. I thought we had time." He laughed bitterly. "I was a coward. Always waiting for the right moment. But the right moment never came."
His grip tightened slightly.
"You were more than just a friend. You always were. I kept telling myself it was just a phase, just admiration, but it wasn't. It isn't. I.... I love you, Ishan. I think I've loved you for longer than I care to admit."
The words hung in the air, heavy and freeing all at once.
"I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner. I'm sorry I missed your call. But if you can hear me... if there's any part of you listening, please.... come back. Give me a chance to say all of this when you're awake."
His head dropped onto the bed beside Ishan's hand, tears soaking into the sterile white sheets. The machines continued their steady beeping, indifferent to the heartbreak filling the room.
To Be Continued...
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It has a happy ending! Don't worryð .
Hey guys!!!, Do anyone read manhwa/manhua here? I'm bored and kinda down, looking for something with villainess transmigration or child care (but it's okay if it's not that) . Any suggestions? Thanks!