India, one of Asia’s most resilient countries, had managed to claw its way back on track after the devastation of the zombie virus. The recovery process was arduous, marked by a mix of hope and despair. While some citizens embraced the idea of moving forward, others struggled to find the will. Memories of the outbreak were too vivid, too raw to be easily left behind.

Amidst this collective healing lived Karthik, a survivor with his own story. He was a man who had traveled to South Korea by sheer chance while trying to escape the chaos in his homeland. Accompanied by Meher, his closest companion during the outbreak, he had found help in South Korea and managed to survive. Now back in India, he had rebuilt his life with a purpose.

Karthik had become a well-known professor of economics, a role he embraced with vigor. His journey through the government’s accelerated education scheme—designed to help students recover lost years of learning—had given him a unique perspective. He understood the struggles of the students in his classes, many of whom were trying to pull themselves and their families out of the wreckage left by the virus.

"Education is the foundation," Karthik often told himself. "If we lose that, we lose everything."

His students admired him, not just for his knowledge but for his empathy. He balanced his expectations with an understanding of the hardships they faced, pushing them just enough to help them grow.

Meanwhile, Meher had established a psychological ward in the city. She had always believed that the scars left by the virus went beyond the physical. Mental health needed just as much attention, and her ward became a sanctuary for those who struggled to cope.

Karthik’s sister, Anjali, worked as a nurse, dedicating herself to the recovery and welfare of patients. Their family had survived the outbreak, though they had needed medical attention when they first returned. Now, they were all healthy, which was a blessing Karthik never took for granted.

Karthik sighed as he parked his car in the garage. The night was quiet, the air cool as he stepped into his home. The lights automatically flickered on as he entered, illuminating the cozy living room. Tossing his bag onto the couch, he plopped down beside it, exhaustion evident in his posture.

The house was silent, a stark contrast to the chaos he had lived through years ago. His sister and family were fine, Meher’s family was fine, and life, though not perfect, had found its rhythm again. Yet, amidst all this, there was one thing missing.

Yunha.

The woman who had helped him navigate the South Korean language, the one who had stood by him in a foreign land, and the one who had liked him for who he was—she remained in his thoughts. They were still in touch, exchanging messages and calls despite the distance.

Karthik pulled out his phone and saw several voice messages waiting from Yunha. He played the first one, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he heard her voice. She spoke in Hindi, her accent endearing yet clear.

“मैंने सोचा तुम्हें किम्ची बहुत पसंद है, हाहा!” (I thought you loved kimchi, haha!)

He laughed to himself, the sound filling the empty room. "अरे यार, उसे हिंदी बोलते हुए सुनना बहुत प्यारा लगता है," (Man, it’s so sweet hearing her speak Hindi,) he thought as he began recording his reply, this time in Korean.

Their relationship was unconventional but deeply meaningful. Despite the thousands of miles between them, they had learned each other’s languages to stay connected. Yunha’s Hindi was as much a testament to her commitment as Karthik’s fluency in Korean was to his.

Hours passed as he went through her messages, carefully replying to each one. It was a slow, deliberate process, but he didn’t mind. When he finally set his phone down, the clock read well past midnight.

Karthik leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes with a sigh. His thoughts wandered to the future.

“जल्द ही टीचर प्रोग्राम के लिए अमेरिका जाना होगा,” (I’ll have to go to America for the teacher’s program soon,) he murmured to himself. The thought of leaving weighed on him, but he knew it was a necessary step in his journey.

As the night deepened, Karthik drifted off to sleep, a faint smile on his face. The world was healing, and so was he, one day at a time.