MAHABHARAT: Reborn as a younger brother of Krishna with a system

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The sun over Panchala burned softer than Dwaraka's. The air carried the scent of sandalwood and old scriptures.

Krishna rode ahead, clad in gold that refused to glint, as if the sun respected his need for silence.

Agasthya rode behind.

Neither had spoken in hours.

But at the gate of King Drupada's palace, Krishna finally turned.

"There's someone you need to meet."

Agasthya raised an eyebrow. "Draupadi?"

"No," Krishna said, smiling faintly. "Someone else."

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Inside, the welcome was ceremonial.

Drupada greeted them with thunderous formality. Draupadi—stood behind him, eyes fierce, presence striking. Fire in girl-form.

But Agasthya's eyes shifted toward a figure just beyond the curtain—unadorned, watching.

She wore no crown.

Only a moonstone on her brow.

And her gaze met his with a quiet intensity that startled him.

Krishna noticed.

And said nothing.

---

Later, during the council, Krishna leaned toward Drupada and whispered something.

The king nodded.

Soon after, a servant approached Agasthya.

"Princess Vaidehi of Mithila requests your presence in the temple garden."

Agasthya didn't question it.

He followed.

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The garden was built like a maze—filled with flowering champa, white bells, and marble statues of forgotten sages.

Vaidehi sat beneath a tree, grinding sandalwood on a stone with practiced hands.

She didn't look up when he arrived.

"You came," she said simply.

"You asked."

"I didn't think you would."

"I didn't know who you were."

She looked up now.

"I think you do," she said softly.

And the air between them changed.

Not heavy. Not sudden.

Just… known.

---

They talked as the sun lowered.

Not about politics.

Not about fate.

But about loneliness.

About silence.

About what it meant to be known only in fragments.

At one point, she said, "I've dreamed of a man since I was a girl. He never had a face. Only eyes. And the sound of a sword being sheathed."

Agasthya did not move.

But his throat tightened.

He whispered, "I've dreamed of a voice. But I never saw the speaker."

She smiled.

"Aren't we strange?"

He replied, "Or simply late."

And they both laughed.

But behind her smile… Vaidehi knew.

She didn't love him yet.

But she had been waiting.

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