Krishna hug her again. The warmth of Krishna’s embrace surrounded little Subhadra like the ocean waves she loved so much.

His arms were strong and steady, holding her close, as if shielding her from the storm of emotions raging inside her.

She clung to him, her tiny hands gripping the soft fabric of his yellow robes.

Her face, damp with tears, was pressed against his chest, and for a long moment, she simply breathed in his familiar scent—a mix of sandalwood, wildflowers, and something indescribable, something uniquely Krishna.

"Ruchi," he murmured, his voice as soft as the night breeze that danced over the waters of Dwarka. "Who said that siblings must always look the same?"

Subhadra sniffled, burying her face deeper into him.

"But…" she mumbled, her voice small. "You and Dau… you both are strong and tall, and you can fight asuras and demons… and I…"

She trailed off, her fingers curling into small fists.

Krishna smiled, his hand gently tilting her chin up so she would meet his gaze. His eyes—deep, knowing, filled with endless patience—studied her closely.

"True," he admitted easily, "but don't you think Dau and I have differences too? Aren’t we different as well?"

Subhadra blinked up at him, confused.

"Yes, but…" she hesitated, her voice faltering.

Krishna chuckled, his fingers tapping playfully against her forehead.

"Exactly," he said, as if that settled everything.

Subhadra frowned.

"But you and Dau look alike… more than I do."

Krishna leaned back slightly, crossing his arms in an exaggerated gesture of deep thought.

"Do we?" he mused aloud. "Well, Dau has arms so thick it's as thick as tree trunks, and I… don’t."

Subhadra let out a small giggle despite herself.

Krishna continued, his voice teasing.

"Dau has a voice that makes the whole palace shake when he’s angry. Have you ever heard me yell like that?"

Subhadra shook her head, still giggling.

"And yet," Krishna tilted his head, his curls bouncing slightly, "no one has ever said Dau and I are not brothers. Isn’t that strange?"

Subhadra bit her lip, realizing where he was going with this.

Krishna then reached out and tapped her nose gently.

"And who told you that you look nothing like me?"

She blinked, taken aback.

"But I don’t…"

Krishna raised an eyebrow. "Didn’t we both inherit the same smile?"

Subhadra hesitated, and Krishna immediately flashed his brightest, most mischievous grin.

She couldn’t help it—her own lips twitched, mirroring his expression almost perfectly.

"See?" Krishna chuckled, nudging her side. "A perfect match."

Subhadra still wasn’t convinced.

"But people don’t see that," she mumbled, lowering her gaze. "They only see my skin."

Krishna sighed, placing a warm hand over her small one.

"Ruchi, tell me," he said gently, "do you remember all the times we troubled Dau?"

Subhadra nodded, sniffling again.

"Didn’t we both sneak into the kitchens together to steal makhan?"

Another nod.

"Didn’t we both laugh at the same jokes? Share the same secret hiding spots? Dance when it rains?"

Subhadra bit her lip.

Krishna smiled, brushing a stray curl from her damp cheek.

"Then tell me, little one," he whispered, his voice as warm as the sun, "don’t we have more in common?"

Subhadra’s heart clenched.

"I guess…" she whispered. "We do."

Krishna gave a firm nod, his eyes twinkling.

"Exactly. There are many ways people can be alike, Ruchi. More than just appearances, more than just skin colour."

For a moment, she felt lighter. But then, the weight of the festival’s words crept back into her heart.

"But…" she whispered, her voice breaking, "Rajkumar Arjun and Maharani Draupadi look more like you than I do. And people—people say Maharani Draupadi is more like your sister than me!"

Her voice cracked at the end, and she clenched her fists. "You are so close with her, Even you—call her ‘sakhi’ all the time!"

Krishna sighed, but his expression remained soft.

"Arjun and Draupadi are indeed our family too," he admitted. "But do you know who they are to me?"

Subhadra shook her head, tears still clinging to her lashes.

"Arjun is my dearest friend, my most trusted companion. And Draupadi—" Krishna chuckled, "she is my best friend."

He looked at her meaningfully.

"And You, Ruchi, are my only little sister, my beloved sister. And that will never change."

Subhadra’s lower lip trembled.

"But people—"

"People will always talk," Krishna said simply. "Let them. They do not decide what is true. I do."

His voice was so steady, so certain, that something in Subhadra's heart shifted.

Krishna gently placed a hand over her head.

"I have a big heart, Ruchi," he murmured. "It is wide enough to fit everyone in their own special place."

He tapped his chest lightly.

"Arjun has his place. Draupadi has hers. But your place, my dear little sister, is one that no one else can take."

Subhadra let out a shaky breath.

Krishna smiled, pulling her into another hug.

"So do not feel insecure," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

"You will always be my sister. And the whole world will always, always remember you as my beloved sister. They will forever remember you as Krishna beloved sister."

Subhadra closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

The sadness was still there, lingering like the last traces of a storm. But now, it felt manageable.

She wasn’t alone.

She never would be.

Krishna pulled away slightly, watching as Subhadra wiped the last traces of her tears with the back of her small hands.

Her nose was still a little red, and her eyes were puffy from all the crying, but at least now, she was smiling again—small and hesitant, but a smile nonetheless.

“That’s better,” Krishna said, ruffling her hair. “The Ruchi I know always smiles the brightest.”

Subhadra pouted, swatting his hand away. “You always mess up my hair, Bhrata!”

Krishna gasped dramatically. “Me? Ruining your perfect princess hair? What a terrible accusation!”

She giggled, trying to fix her hair. But Krishna wasn’t done. He reached out and ruffled it again—this time even more messily.

“Bhrata!” she whined, laughing.

Krishna chuckled, leaning back against the tree. “There! Now you truly look like my little sister. A troublemaker just like me.”

Subhadra huffed but couldn’t help but laugh as she tried to fix the mess he made.

Krishna watched her with an amused smile before suddenly standing up. “Come on, little one. Let’s do something fun.”

Subhadra tilted her head. “Like what?”

Krishna stood up and stretched. “Let’s paint!”

She tilted her head. “Paint?”

“Yes! Dau brought some new colors from the traders. I heard they’re richer than anything we’ve used before.” He wiggled his brows. “Wanna try?”

Subhadra’s face brightened with excitement. “Really?! Yes!”

Krishna took her hand, leading her toward one of the quieter palace courtyards, where the servants had set up a small shaded space with clay pots of vibrant paints. The sight of the colors alone made Subhadra’s worries feel even further away.

Krishna picked up a brush and twirled it between his fingers. “Alright, bhadre. What shall we paint today?”

Subhadra sat down beside him, tapping her chin. “Hmm… maybe the river? Or the cows?”

Krishna grinned. “Good choices! But what about something even better?”

“What?”

Krishna dipped his finger into a pot of deep blue paint and quickly drew a dot on her nose.

“Me!”

Subhadra gasped. “Bhrata!”

Krishna laughed. “What? You love painting, and you love me. Why not combine the two?”

Subhadra huffed but couldn’t stop her giggles. She dipped her fingers in red paint and smudged it onto Krishna’s cheek.

“There! Now you’re painted too!”

Krishna gasped, pretending to be offended. “Is that how you treat your dear brother?”

Subhadra giggled harder. “You started it!”

Krishna sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. Let’s paint properly now.”

They settled down, each working on their own piece of art. Krishna, being Krishna, painted something playful— cows, monkeys, and peacock dancing in the fields.

Subhadra, on the other hand, took her time, carefully painting a scene of them together. She herself, Balram, and Krishna stand by the river in the sunset time.

Krishna peeked over her shoulder. “Oh? What’s this?”

Subhadra smiled shyly. “It’s us.”

Krishna tilted his head. “You captured Dau’s frown very well.”

Subhadra giggled. “He’s always frowning when we make trouble.”

Krishna laughed. “That’s true! But what about you, little one? Where’s your smile?”

Subhadra paused. She had painted herself looking up at them, admiration in her eyes.

“I… I wanted to show how much I love watching you and Dau.”

Krishna softened. He dipped his brush into gold paint and carefully added a small, glowing strokes near her painted self.

“There. Now you shine too.”

Subhadra looked at the painting, her heart swelling with warmth.

Krishna smiled. “You don’t need to be like me to shine, little one. You are already a light of your own.”

Subhadra hugged him suddenly, accidentally smearing more paint onto both of them.

“Bhrata, you’re the best.”

Krishna chuckled, hugging her back. “And you, my Ruchi, my subhadra, are my favorite little artist.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon laughing, painting, and making an absolute mess. By the time the sun began to set, their hands, faces, and even their clothes were covered in color—but neither of them cared.

For in that moment, the world felt bright, beautiful, and full of joy.

To be continued

Note: I tried to make a happy time, I hope you guys feel happy too reading this (☞ ᐛ )☞❤🥰❤