The weekend came with unexpected warmth. Karachi’s sky was unusually clear, and a slow breeze whispered through the city as if it, too, sensed something new about to begin.

Arsalan stood in front of the café where his blind date was supposed to happen. The place was artsy and open, filled with mismatched furniture and soft indie music. He tapped his fingers on the table, glancing around with his usual cheerful energy.

He was wearing a loose button-down shirt and rolled-up sleeves, his hair slightly tousled by the ride. His friend, Adeel, had warned him, “Don’t act like a clown. She’s a model.”

Arsalan had grinned. “Clowns are charming.”

Just then, she walked in.

Tall. Elegant. Poised.

Emily.

Wearing a deep green dress and black boots, she held herself like the world was watching—and she didn’t mind. Her eyes scanned the café until they landed on him.

“You must be Arsalan?” she asked.

He stood and smiled. “Unless someone else is sitting here pretending to be funny.”

She raised an eyebrow, amused but cautious. “You don’t look like a CEO.”

Arsalan blinked. “Why would I?”

“Adeel said you were in your family business.”

“I dabble,” Arsalan said vaguely, motioning for her to sit. “But mostly I’m just… me.”

Emily gave a small smirk as she sat across from him. “That’s either refreshing or suspicious.”

He leaned in, playful. “Hopefully refreshing.”

---

Across the city, in a quieter part of town, Tahir stood awkwardly near the waiting area of a garden-themed restaurant. He checked his watch again. Then again. His dress shirt was crisp, his blazer perfect, but he looked slightly out of place among the soft pastel lights and hanging flowers.

“Blind dates,” he muttered. “Why did I say yes?”

Just then, a soft voice cut through his thoughts.

“Are you Tahir?”

He turned.

And for a moment, he didn’t respond.

Naima stood there in a lavender scarf, a modest white dress, and a shy smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her tired posture gave away long hospital shifts and late nights.

Tahir straightened. “Yes. Sorry. I’m… not good at this.”

She laughed lightly. “Me neither. I almost canceled.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Naima shrugged as they walked toward the table. “Maybe I just needed a break from work. I’m a junior doctor at City Hospital.”

“Impressive.”

She smiled. “What about you? Adeel said something about ‘business’ but didn’t give much.”

Tahir hesitated for a second. “My father’s unwell. I’m handling the family business temporarily.”

“That sounds heavy.”

“It is.”

Naima nodded, her expression kind. “You’re younger than I expected.”

“You too.”

They exchanged a quiet laugh, both relaxing slightly.

---

Back at the café, Arsalan and Emily were in the middle of a rather absurd conversation about favorite superpowers.

“I’d pick teleportation,” Emily said. “I travel for work so much, and airports are the worst.”

“Teleportation is overrated,” Arsalan replied with a mouthful of fries. “You miss all the cool roads and snack stops.”

“You’re weird,” she said with a grin.

“You’re welcome.”

Emily leaned forward, genuinely curious. “So what do you do?”

Arsalan hesitated. Then smiled.

“Detect patterns,” he said. “Solve problems. Help people.”

She tilted her head. “That sounds vague.”

“It’s supposed to. Mystery adds charm.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling now.

---

Meanwhile, Naima and Tahir were surprisingly finding comfort in their quietness.

She spoke gently. “Do you ever wish things were simpler?”

He nodded. “Every morning.”

“Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to live a small life. Clinic in a quiet town. No pressure. No patients dying in front of you.”

Tahir looked at her. “You’ve seen that?”

Naima’s eyes lowered. “Too many times.”

They sat in silence, the clink of cutlery and distant laughter around them, their hands brushing the edge of the table.

“I’m not good at small talk,” Tahir admitted.

Naima looked up. “Then let’s not do small talk.”

They both smiled.

---

Later that night, back at their villa, the twins found themselves once again sharing rooftop air and leftover fries.

“So?” Tahir asked first.

Arsalan grinned. “She’s sharp. Beautiful. Dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

“She asked too many questions. I had to dodge all of them like a spy.”

Tahir raised an eyebrow. “Did you tell her what you do?”

“Sort of. I said I solve problems. That counts.”

Tahir nodded. “Naima’s… quiet. Strong. She’s not afraid to look straight into your eyes and make you feel like you’re being read.”

“You like that?”

“I think so.”

Arsalan leaned back. “Well, brother, it begins.”

“What does?”

“The complicated part.”