Vatsal was sitting and looking out of the window when Adhvik came and placed his face right in front of him, raising his eyebrows and silently asking, "What happened?"

Vatsal let out a long sigh and looked at him.

Adhvik stared at him, confused, narrowing one eye and teasingly said,
"Bataouge kya hua? Waha kya baat hui? Kaise kiya? Kya kiya? Sab bhakoo!"

(Will you tell me what happened? What was the talk there? How did you do it? What did you do? Spill everything!)

Vatsal was about to say something when the door suddenly opened, and Pranjal walked in with a plate of food in his hands.

Pranjal, with a calm, composed face, said,
"Bhai, khana kha lo. Khaye nahi the aap subah se."

(Bro, please eat. You haven't eaten since morning.)

He placed the plate on the table and turned to leave when Adhvik quickly grabbed his hand and made him sit on the bed.

Adhvik, now with an irritated and dramatic tone, said,
"Chup chap baith, aur sabse badi news sunn Vatsal bhai ne propose kar diya aaj!"

(Sit quietly and hear the biggest news Vatsal bhai proposed today!)

Pranjal, surprisingly unfazed, gave a straight face and said,
"That's good. What did Anushka say?"

Adhvik, now almost jumping in excitement, added,
"Ha haa, batao na! Usne kya kahaaaaa? Jaldi jaldi!"

(Yes, yes! Tell us, what did she say? Quick, quick!)

Vatsal, looking down, voice soft and heavy with disappointment, said,
"She said nothing... I think she doesn't even like me."
Then he turned his face away again, staring out of the window, trying to hide the mix of hurt and confusion in his eyes.

Adhvik and Pranjal looked at each other-shocked, confused, and suddenly quiet, Adhvik excitement fading into concern.

Adhvik, in a softer voice, leaned forward slightly,
"Arey... par usne kuch bola hi nahi? Matlab kuch bhi nahi?"

(Wait... she didn't say anything at all? Like not a single word?)

Vatsal still didn't look at them. His voice was flat, low almost like he was speaking to the window,
"Nahi... bas dekha mujhe, fir chali gayi. Na haan, na naa. Jaise main... bas waha tha hi nahi."

(No... she just looked at me and walked away. Neither yes nor no. As if... I wasn't even there.)

Adhvik, now sitting up straighter, spoke gently but firmly,
"Toh maybe shock mein thi? Ho sakta hai, time lag raha ho usse samajhne mein. Tumhara proposal out of the blue tha kya?"

(Then maybe she was in shock? It's possible she's just taking time to process. Was your proposal unexpected?)

Vatsal gave a bitter smile, still not turning to them,
"Nahi. Mujhe laga woh samajhti thi. Har baat mein hint tha. Par shayad... sirf main hi mehsoos kar raha tha sab kuch."

(No. I thought she understood. Every little thing was a hint. But maybe... it was just me who felt everything.)

Pranjal, more calmly,"Shaayad uske paas words nahi the uss moment mein. Aur ho sakta hai, woh khud bhi sure na ho. Bhai, tu overthink mat kar."

(Maybe she didn't have the words at that moment. And maybe... she herself wasn't sure. Don't overthink, brother.)

Pranjal, after a long silent pause, his voice low and thoughtful, looked at Vatsal and said softly,"Jab tum kisi ko apna sab kuch kehna chahte ho, par fir bhi nahi keh paate... woh ek aisi feeling hoti hai jisse tum kabhi bayaan hi nahi karna chahte. Bas... dil ke kisi kone mein daba ke rakh dete ho. Kyunki shayad dar lagta hai kehte hi sab kuch badal na jaaye."

(When you want to tell someone everything you feel, but still can't... it's a kind of feeling you never want to express. You just tuck it away in some corner of your heart. Maybe because you're scared that saying it out loud might change everything.)

Adhvik, trying to lift the weight in the room, leaned in with gentle energy, placing a hand on Vatsal's shoulder and said with quiet conviction,
"Bhai dekh... kabhi-kabhi kuch cheezein itni uljhi hoti hain na, ki insaan khud se hi ladh raha hota hai. Shayad Anushka bhi wahi kar rahi ho. Kabhi hum uss waqt kisi galat kadam se bachne ke liye, khud ko samjhate hain... waqt dete hain taaki hum sahi aur galat mein fark kar sakein. Har baar jo hum dekhte hain, woh zaroori nahi sahi hi ho. Shayad uska khud ka confusion hi uski khamoshi thi."

(Bro, sometimes things are so tangled that we're fighting our own minds. Maybe Anushka is doing the same. Sometimes, we hold ourselves back from reacting too quickly just to avoid a wrong step. We try to understand ourselves first, so we can tell right from wrong. What we see isn't always the full truth. Maybe her silence was her confusion.)

Pranjal, now quieter than before, gazed down and said almost to himself,
"Par kabhi-kabhi... kuch cheezein sirf andar hi reh jaayein, wahi behtar hota hai. Kabhi dil ko dard mile, toh shayad woh bhi zaroori hota hai. Aur kabhi kabhi... kisi se door rehna, uske kal ke liye zaroori hota hai."

(But sometimes... some things are better left unsaid. Sometimes, a little pain is necessary for the heart. And sometimes... staying away from someone is what's right-for their tomorrow.)

Adhvik, turning serious, looked straight into pranjal's eyes and spoke firmly with quiet strength
"Bhai, kisi ko door kar ke tum uska kuch nahi bigad rahe tum khud ko dard de rahe ho... Par saath hi usse bhi tod rahe ho. Aur kya lagta hai? Isse tum mahaan ban jaoge? Nahi bhai. Koi bhi insaan, agar tumhari duniya ke barabar importance rakhta hai, aur tum uski duniya ho... toh uski duniya todh ke tum khud kisi bhi duniya mein jee nahi paoge."

(Bro, pushing someone away doesn't destroy them, it breaks you, and it breaks them too. And do you think that makes you some sort of martyr? No. If someone sees you as their whole world, and you are their anchor, then breaking their world means you'll never feel whole on your own either.)

A deep silence follows. Vatsal looks down, breath heavy, but for the first time in hours, he feels seen. Understood. Not judged. Just... held together by two people who refused to let him fall apart alone.

Pranjal, softly,
"Kabhi kabhi pyaar sunna bhi ek bojh ban jaata hai, agar samajhne ka waqt na mile toh. Aur Anushka toh woh ladki hai jo har cheez samajh ke karti hai... bina samjhe kisi rishtay mein kadam nahi rakhti."

(Sometimes, even hearing about love becomes a burden if it comes without time to understand it. And Anushka is someone who understands deeply before she takes a step into any relationship.)

Vatsal, now rubbing his face, defeated,"Toh main galat tha kya? Usse batana galat tha kya?"

(So... was I wrong? Was telling her a mistake?)

Adhvik, firmly but gently,"Galat toh bilkul nahi tha, bhai. Apne jazbaat batana kabhi galat nahi hota. Par har sach ka ek waqt hota hai. Shayad tera sach ka waqt uske liye zyada tha. Aur tu jaanta hai na, woh kisi ka dil rakhne ke liye haan nahi bolegi... jab bolegi, toh dil se bolegi."

(No, bro. Telling your feelings is never wrong. But every truth has its own time. Maybe your truth, in that moment, was too much for her. And you know her she'll never say yes just to make someone feel better... when she says it, it'll be from the heart.)

Pranjal, folding his arms, looks at Vatsal calmly,"Ab tere saamne do raaste hain-ek, tu usse door ho ja, kyunki tu apne jawab ke bina nahi jee sakta. Doosra, tu usse waqt de, aur apne rishte ko us jagah wapas le ja, jahan dosti thi... bina kisi pressure ke. Jo sacha hota hai na, woh laut kar aata hai. Shayad tere jazbaat bhi laut kar uske dil tak pohchein... jab woh khud tayyar ho."

(Now you've got two roads ahead-either walk away from her because you can't live without an answer. Or... give her time, bring your bond back to where it started as friendship, with no pressure. What's real always finds its way back. Maybe your feelings will too... when she's ready for them.)

Vatsal sits still, taking in every word. The hurt is still there, but something softer begins to settle a strange calm, born from understanding.

Vatsal with a little tense,"Main bas usse khone se darta hoon..."

(I'm just afraid of losing her...)

Adhvik, putting an arm around his shoulder, said, "Toh dosti mat khona. Pyaar toh tha hi... par usse pehle bhi tu uska sabse apna tha. Us rishte ko tootne mat de. Agar woh teri hai, toh waqt ke baad woh khud tere paas laut aayegi."

(Then don't lose the friendship. Love was there... but even before that, you were the one closest to her. Don't let that break. If she's meant for you, she'll come back on her own with time.)

Pranjal's inner voice mocks him to give vatsal suggestions about what he did to palak as he remembers Palak, his face falling with the weight of regret.

"She gifted me a garden of roses... but my heart is full of thorns-thorns I never wanted her to get hurt by.

I have a terrible habit of setting myself on fire just to see if I burn enough... enough to provide others with the warmth I never received.

And yet, I still refuse to believe that I don't deserve the pain. Because I was taught somehow that the more I burn everything into ashes, the more it would look like love.

But the truth is... I don't deserve love. I don't deserve her-someone as pure as I know she is."

"Woh... woh sirf ek ladki nahi hai,
Woh prem ki ek bhakti hai.
Jise main kabhi chooh nahi paya, par har pal mehsoos kiya.
Woh mujhe pyaar karna sikha sakti hai,
Woh pyaar ko jeena sikha Sakti hai...
Jo maine hamesha doosron mein dekha, par khud mein kabhi mehsoos nahi kiya.
Woh mere toote hue wajood mein ek vishwas bhar sakti hai,
Jo khud ko insaan smjhna bhool gaya hai, usse phir se insaan bana sakti thi.
Woh bhakti hai... prem ki bhakti.
Aur shayad main us bhakti ke layak kabhi tha hi nahi."

Adhvik swaggered over to Vatsal's table, snatched the chip packet, and stuffed a few into his mouth with exaggerated flair. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he turned to the other two.

Adhvik grinning wide, voice dripping with sarcasm,
"Tum dono bhai ho... maan lo ya na maan lo. Ek ki ladki usse baav tak nahi deti, aur doosre ko de diya toh woh ban gaya Maryada Purushottam! Akal ko toh chana samajh ke godhon ko khila aaye ho kya?"

("You two are brothers, whether you admit it or not. One girl doesn't even look at him, and the other does, and he goes around acting like Lord Ram. You've probably fed your brains to donkeys thinking it's chickpeas!")

He chuckled to himself, proud, playful, leaning back like he just dropped the joke of the century.

But Pranjal didn't even blink.

Adhvik's smile faltered for a second. He stared at him, then smirked again, brushing it off. He walked up, took another chip, and shoved it into Pranjal's mouth like feeding a statue.

Adhvik raising an eyebrow, voice teasing,"Tu le bhai... padhai kar kar ke dimag expire kar diya hoga. Nutrients nahi milenge toh maths ke questions solve kaise karega?"

("Just eat - you've probably expired your brain studying! Without nutrients, how will you solve maths?")

Vatsal was mid-sip of cola when he suddenly burst into a coughing fit, choking as the drink fizzed in his nose. He started laughing uncontrollably, the kind that turns into wheezing.

But Pranjal didn't even flinch.

No smile. No eye-roll. Just a blank stare into nothing, followed by a mechanical, emotionless nod.

Adhvik's grin slowly faded. His brows creased. He glanced at Vatsal, who had also gone silent now, watching Pranjal with a hint of confusion, maybe even concern.

Something wasn't right.

Adhvik tilted his head, then suddenly walked back, turned around, and plopped himself on Pranjal's lap with dramatic flair but his tone was softer now, almost coaxing.

Adhvik pouting playfully, eyes searching his,"Aree haye... hamari begum Noor Jahan kahe khafa hain? Kya hua Belgaum ko? Batao, hum kiska sir udwa dein?"

("Oh dear, our Queen Noor Jahan, why are you upset? What's troubling our beloved Belgaum? Tell me whose head shall I have taken off?")

Pranjal sat motionless.

Still no response. His eyes looked tired, distant, almost hollow. The silence stretched and this time, it wasn't awkward, it was worrying.

Adhvik went quiet.

Slowly, he stood up. His usual spark now dimmed with a strange heaviness in his chest. Gently, he took Pranjal's arm and helped him up too. Then, without a single word, he pulled him into a hug. Not loud, not theatrical, just firm and real. He patted his back, once, twice. Like he was holding something fragile.

Vatsal didn't say anything either.

He just walked over, quietly, and wrapped his arms around both of them. No jokes. No words. Just silence and understanding.

Three friends. No words. One moment of unspoken care.

A hug doesn't fix everything, but sometimes, it's all the strength someone needs to hold on a little longer.

______

Anushka and Palak were walking together, their steps slow and quiet. Kriti had already arrived earlier to take care of some school work.

Palak looked distant, eyes glued to her phone, her silence louder than usual.
Anushka glanced at her with concern, her brows slightly furrowed, wondering how she could lift her friend's mood.

From the other side of the corridor, Vatsal, Manya, and Pranjal were approaching.
The moment Manya spotted them, she rushed toward the girls with her usual bounce.

Pranjal's eyes instinctively searched for Palak.
But Palak didn't even glance in his direction like he didn't exist.

Anushka and Vatsal exchanged a quick glance with each other.

Manya, cheerful and clueless as always, poked Palak on the shoulder and chirped with a teasing grin,
"Oyeee, kya kar rahi hai tu? Kal se dekh rahi hoon, alag hi bhoot ki tarah behave kar rahi hai. Bol na!"

("Oyeee, what are you up to? I've been noticing since yesterday, you're acting like a ghost. Come on, spill it!")

Palak didn't respond.
She just turned and started walking away, her shoulders stiff.
But as she moved, someone bumped into her, and she stumbled about to fall.

Pranjal instinctively reached forward to catch her
But someone else got there first.

A boy, unfamiliar but calm, caught her hand and held her steady.
With a gentle smile, he said,
"Dhyaan se, Palak ji."

("Careful, Miss Palak.")

Palak looked at him, surprised.
And for the first time in days, her lips curved into a soft smile.
"Thank you," she said, her voice quiet but sincere.

The boy nodded, helped her back on her feet, and casually walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

Pranjal's fists clenched at his sides.
He hated the way she smiled at that guy
because she never talked to anyone else like that.
Never smiled at anyone like that.
That smile used to be his.

Adhvik, who had been silently watching everything with amusement, swaggered over.
With his usual mischief, he grabbed the strap of Palak's bag and began tugging it playfully.

Then, tugging at a strand of her hair, he teased in a dramatic tone,
"Mayandari, bahut chidh chidh kar rahi hai subah-subah. Maa ne laat maar ke ghar se nikala kya?"

("Mayandari, why are you so grumpy this morning? Did your mom kick you out of the house?")

Palak shot him a deadly glare, her eyes narrowed into slits.
Without missing a beat, she snapped back,
"Chal naa, zyada mat bol tu! Subah-subah aise uth ke aa gaya, nahane ki jagah bathroom mein kitne mugs se pani gira ke aaya?"

("Shut up! Don't talk too much. You woke up and came here without bathing, just splashed some water with a mug in the bathroom, didn't you?")

Adhvik mocking dramatically,
"Arre wah, toh madam ka bathroom timing bhi set hai? Batao bhai, mugs gin ke nahati hai. Kya royal zindagi hai!"

("Oh wow, so madam has scheduled bathroom timings too? Counting mugs of water to bath what a royal life!")

Palak rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed.
"Teri baat kar Rahi hu Gatar ke kidde, Royal toh tu hai nahaata kab hai, shampoo ki ad shoot zyada karta hai. Baal dekh ke lagta hai gale mein tel ka cylinder phat gaya ho!

("I'm talking about you, gutter bug. You're the royal one never bathes, just acts in shampoo ads. Looking at your hair, it's like a whole oil cylinder exploded on your head!")

Adhvik gasped like she had insulted his whole lineage.

He clutched his heart dramatically and staggered a step back,"Tu toh dil pe waar kar gayi, Mayandari! Mere baalon ko tel ka cylinder? Yeh zulfein hai, zulfein... Shah Rukh Khan bhi sharma jaye!"

("You just attacked my soul, Mayandari! My hair? These are not just hair, these are locks Shah Rukh Khan would feel shy!")

Palak smirked, folding her arms in a savage tone,"Shah Rukh Khan sharma jaye, ya sharm se doob mar jaye Mujhe kya? Tu toh kaale clouds ki tarah lagta hai baarish ka vaada karta hai, lekin keval chip-chip chodta hai."

("Whether Shah Rukh gets shy or dies of shame why should I care? You look like a black cloud that promises rain, but only leaves behind stickiness.")

Adhvik blinked in mock betrayal, pointing at Palak like she'd just committed treason.
"Oye tu toh emotional damage de rahi hai, emotional!" he exclaimed, still clutching his chest.

("Oye! You're giving emotional damage, emotional!")

He paced a little, dramatically sighing like a heartbroken Bollywood hero.

Then he turned back, eyes narrowed, smirk returning.
"Chal, ab tu bhi sun le. Tera naam hona chahiye Jhansi ki Dadi Amma. Gussa bhi karti hai, aur syllabus ki tarah boring lecture bhi deti hai!"

("Fine, now listen. Your name should be Grandma of Jhansi! Always angry, and your lectures are more boring than the syllabus!")

Palak narrowed her eyes, her lips curving into a dangerous smile.
"Tu keh raha hai mujhe boring? Tu woh WhatsApp forward hai jo har group mein bheja jaata hai aur phir bhi koi nahi padhta!"

("You're calling me boring? You're that WhatsApp forward that gets shared in every group but no one ever reads!")

"Oyyy!" Adhvik howled, jumping as if someone had shot an arrow at him.
"Yeh insult toh direct liver pe lagi hai!"

("That insult hit me right in the liver!")

Anushka burst into loud laughter while Manya had now collapsed on the nearest bench, shaking her head like she was watching a comedy show.

Adhvik walked toward Palak, poking her shoulder playfully.
"Teri insults se toh lagta hai tu raat ko neend mein bhi logon ko roast karti hai."

("With insults like yours, I bet you roast people even in your sleep!")

Palak stepped closer, tilting her head with mock sweetness.
"Neend mein nahi, main toh sapnon mein bhi tera band baja deti hoon."

("Not in sleep Even in my dreams, I destroy you.")

"Oye tu toh asli mirchi bomb hai! Touch bhi karo toh muh jal jaye," he said, grinning like a devil in uniform.

("Oye! You're a proper chili bomb! Even touching you burns the tongue,")

Palak didn't flinch. She rolled her eyes with regal annoyance, her arms folded like a queen addressing a peasant.

"Mirchi bomb? Tu toh expired chakna packet hai-na taste, na timing," she shot back, her tone cool and savage.

("Chili bomb? You're like an expired snack packet-no taste, no timing.")

Manya burst out laughing so loudly that she nearly doubled over. Anushka clapped a hand over her mouth, trying and failing to keep it in. Kriti, who had just walked over, raised her brows, hiding a smile. Even Vatsal shook his head with a snort, muttering something about drama queens and kings.

Adhvik clapped his hands in mock applause, like he'd been roasted on stage.

"Okay okay! From today, tu mera official naam rakh-Tandoori Takkar!" he declared proudly, puffing up like he'd just won a battle.

("Okay okay! From today, give me an official name-Tandoori Takkar!")

Palak smirked, her eyes gleaming. She tilted her head and replied like she was delivering a verdict.

"Perfect! Tandoori Takkar with extra badtameezi. Aur main rakhungi tera naam-Chikni Chameli ke chhapri cousin."

("Perfect! Tandoori Takkar-with extra rudeness. And I'll name you-The cheap cousin of Chikni Chameli.")

The group howled. Manya almost lost balance from laughing. Anushka leaned against the wall for support, blinking away tears.

Adhvik clutched his imaginary pearls like a scandalized soap opera aunt.

"Tu toh full insult mein PhD kar rahi hai. Tera naam hona chahiye Palak the Volcano: Eruption Guaranteed!"

("You're doing a PhD in insults! Your name should be Palak the Volcano: Eruption Guaranteed!")

Palak stepped forward like she ruled the floor. Her voice dropped lower, smoother, deadlier.

"Tu rehne de, Phata Poster Nikla Cartoon. Tujhse toh school ka bell bhi zyada serious hai."

("Oh please... Torn Poster, Out Came a Cartoon.
Even the school bell is taken more seriously than you.")

That broke the final dam. Kriti actually snorted out loud, Vatsal grinned from ear to ear, and even Pranjal quiet and withdrawn till now let out a soft, helpless chuckle. He looked at her, at the fire in her eyes, the way her smile reached her cheeks, and it hit him. He missed this version of her. He missed her.

Meanwhile, Adhvik was pretending to wipe a tear. "Oho, yeh toh zulm ho gaya."

("Oho, this is cruelty now.")

Without warning, he snatched a rolled-up paper from Manya's hand and lightly tapped it on Palak's head.

"Lo! Takkar ka jawaab-champu chop!"

("Here! Response to the roast-champu chop!")

Palak froze for a second. Her eyes widened. Her mouth dropped open in dramatic disbelief.

"ADHVIK!!! Tu gaya ab tu!"

("ADHVIK!!! You're done now!")

And like lightning, she bolted after him.

Adhvik yelped and took off down the corridor, running like his life depended on it, laughing hysterically.

"Arre Palak ji maaf kar do! Main toh sirf entertainment kar raha tha!"

("Arre Palak ji, please forgive me! I was just doing entertainment!")

"Tera entertainment ka show main band karti hoon! Aaj tera baal bhi nahi bachega!"

("I'm shutting down your entertainment show! Even your hair won't survive today!")

Their voices echoed through the hallway as students turned to watch them-some startled, others laughing along. They weaved through the crowd like two maniacs in uniform, one chasing, the other escaping by inches.

Behind them, Anushka wiped her eyes, still laughing. Manya gasped, trying to catch her breath. Kriti looked at them both and shook her head, smiling.

Vatsal leaned back against the wall and said under his breath, "Iss jodi ko bas popcorn chahiye."

("This pair just needs popcorn.")

In that loud, chaotic, silly moment-it felt like school was exactly what it should be.
Messy. Loud. And completely alive.

Anushka smiled as she looked at Palak's face, glowing with laughter. Palak was now laughing out loud, playfully punching Adhvik on the shoulder while he acted like he was getting hit, dramatically leaning back with each mock blow.

"Yeh Palak hamari Palak hai... bas isey aise hi rakhna, Bhagwan. Kisi ki nazar na lage. Isse dekh kar ek ajeeb sa sukoon milta hai," Anushka said softly, her voice filled with affection.

("This is our Palak... just keep her like this, God. May no one cast an evil eye on her.
There's a strange kind of peace in seeing her like this.")

She let her thoughts wander a bit before adding, "Kabhi-kabhi kuch anjane log zindagi mein kab apne ban jate hain, pata hi nahi chalta. Aur kab har ek pal unka ho jaata hai, yeh hum samajh bhi nahi paate."

("Sometimes, we don't even realize when strangers become our own.
And when every single moment starts to belong to them,
we don't even notice it happening.")

_____

Anuskha and Palak were seated on their desks, chatting casually while watching Adhvik and Manya, who were now deep into an arm-wrestling match. Both of them looked like they'd rather throw each other across the room than lose.

"They always fight like this," Anuskha said, amused. "I swear, if someone locks them in one room, they'll either kill each other or burn the place down."

Palak kept watching them with a curious smile. "What do you think, will they ever become friends?" she asked.

Anushka didn't even blink. Her eyes were locked on the chaos unfolding in front of her. "Never. They'll die before becoming the one," she replied without hesitation.

Palak shook her head with a knowing smirk. "You don't even know what's cooking between them. Agar tujhe pata hota na, toh main tujhe unke beech ki chemistry aur physics dono dikha deti," she muttered under her breath, eyes still fixed on the two.

("You don't even know what's cooking between them. If you did, I'd show you not just the chemistry but the physics between those two,")

Just then, Manya spotted a boy standing behind Adhvik, the same one who had asked her a question earlier that morning. And who was trying to be so touchy with her in morning. A wicked idea lit up in her eyes. She looked at Adhvik, smiled sweetly, and then winked at the guy behind him.

Adhvik saw the wink, got completely distracted, and in that second, Manya slammed his hand down and won.

"Cheating ki hai! Aankh maari tune!" Adhvik yelled, half-shocked, half-laughing.

("You cheated! You winked!")

Manya leaned in with a smug grin, winked at him again, and said, "Tereko kab maari?"

("When did I wink at you?")

Then she stood up and stuck her tongue out at him with pride. Adhvik, not one to back down, did the same to her, both now in a full-blown teasing match.

Anushka looked at Palak and sighed. "Dekhna. Kuch nahi hone wala in dono ka. Kabhi bhi nahi."

("Watch. Nothing's ever going to happen between those two. Ever.")

Palak mumbled, smirking again, "Hhhh. Jaise tu sab jaanti hai, bro."

("Hhhh. Like you know everything, bro.")

Suddenly, Anushka glanced at the clock and her eyes widened. "Arey Bhagwan! Mujhe library jaana tha! Chal Palak, tu bhi chal."

("Oh God! I had to go to the library! Come on Palak, you too.")

Palak was about to get up, but paused. A thought hit her like a wall. She remembered Pranjal. He was always in the library at this hour. Her face fell a little as she turned to Anushka, her voice lower, almost pleading.

"Nahi... main nahi jaungi. Tu ja. Main nahi ja sakti, please."

("No... I'm not going. You go. I can't... please.")

Anushka read her face instantly. She didn't say a word, just nodded with understanding. With a small, comforting smile, she picked up her books and got up.

"Thik hai. Par ground mein milna... recess se pehle. Tum dono."

("Okay. But meet me on the ground... before recess. You both.")

And with that, she walked away, leaving Palak behind and Manya and Adhvik were now arguing over who cheated first.

_______

Kriti was walking slowly, eyes buried in her book, completely lost in the words. Arnav trailed behind her, quietly holding onto her finger like a little child as if that one touch anchored him.

She suddenly looked back at him, let out a soft sigh and said,"Arnav, kya kar rahe ho tum?"

("Arnav, what are you doing?")

Arnav, his eyes soft with affection, smiled gently, "Kuch bhi toh nahi... bas aapke peeche-peeche chal raha hoon."

("Nothing at all... just walking behind you.")

She closed her book with a light thud and turned to face him, her expression a mix of confusion and amusement.
"Aur mere peeche-peeche kyun chal rahe ho?"

("And why are you walking behind me?")

He paused, as if genuinely searching for the right words, then said with a quiet, sincere voice,
"Kyuki aapke saath rehna, har kadam par aapko dekhna... yeh mere din ka sabse sukoon bhara hissa ban gaya hai."

("Because being near you, seeing you at every step... it's become the most peaceful part of my day.")

Kriti's eyes softened just a bit, but she didn't reply.

Arnav, stepping closer, still holding her finger like something fragile, continued with a loving smile,
"Pata hai, jab aap chalte ho na... mujhe lagta hai zindagi chal rahi hai. Aur main bas chahta hoon ki zindagi ke har mod par main aapke peeche nahi... aapke saath chalun."

("You know, when you walk... it feels like life is moving. And I don't want to just walk behind you . I want to walk with you at every turn.")

She looked at him trying not to smile, but her cheeks betrayed her.

Kriti, getting irritated,"Hato, bhago yahan se! Mujhe library jaane do. Drama mat karo."

("Move! Get lost! Let me go to the library. Stop the drama.")

Arnav, pouting like a child,"Main bhi chalta hoon na... waise bhi tum yeh taarak wali kitaben padh ke thakti nahi ho. Tum padho, main sununga... aur phir-"

("I'll come too... anyway, you never get tired of reading these boring academic books. You read, I'll listen... and then-")

He suddenly stops mid-sentence as he notices Kriti glaring at him. He gulps hard, realizing he just messed up... badly.

Kriti, angry, her voice rising with every word,
"Meri kitaben 'taarak wali' hain? Tumhari harkatein kya hain? Maha-tharaki! Tum jaise Vatsal ke saath bathroom mein chipke hue the, dekha tha maine. Aur ab mujhse chipak rahe ho! Pehle khud ka gender fix karo, tum!"

("You're calling my books boring? And what about your behavior? Total creep! I saw you sticking around with Vatsal in the bathroom and now you're glued to me! Fix your gender first!")

Arnav, making a cry face, genuinely panicking:
"Maine kuch nahi kiyaaaa! Woh kutta hai chawal ke aate ki shakal wala aadmi! Uske saath romance karne se pehle toh main marna pasand karunga! Dushman hai mera woh!"

("I didn't do anything! That guy's a dog, a human version of stale rice flour! I'd rather die than flirt with him! He's my enemy!")

Kriti, folding her arms, pushing him away, "Mere dost ke baare mein aisa bol rahe ho? Tharak ke bhi upar level ke ho tum tharkulle kahi ke! Tum mujhse door raha karo! Tum mere dost ke dushman ho na? Toh paas aaye na, toh chimte se maarungi. Samjhe? Mere aage-peeche ghoomna bandh karo!"

("Talking like that about my friend? You're a creep on a whole new level! Stay away from me! You're his enemy, right? So stay away or I'll hit you with tongs! Got it? Stop hovering around me!")

Arnav, now clearly jealous, his expression darkening at the mention of Vatsal,
"Tumhara dost bhi toh meri behan ke peeche pada hai! Main kuch bola? Woh chawal ka saadda hua aatta har waqt Anushka ke aage bin-bin karta rehta hai... Aur main agar tumhare aage kuch karu toh main ho gaya 'tharkulla'?"

("Your friend is always after my sister too! Did I say anything? That soggy flour of a guy keeps buzzing around Anushka all the time... but if I do anything around you, I become a creep?")

Arnav, muttering under his breath:
"Tharki kitabe padhne wali mahila mujhe tharkulla bol rahi hai...."

("A girl who reads romantic novels is calling me a creep...")

Kriti, still fuming, turned sharply and walked toward the library without another word. Her shoes clicked against the floor in sharp defiance. Her braid swayed with each step like it, too, and was angry.

Arnav, watching her storm off, whispered to himself,"Ab toh gaya re Arnav... full and final gussa."

("That's it, Arnav... She's officially mad. Full and final.")

He jogged after her, catching up quietly inside the library corridor, where the silence was sacred. But Arnav? He was anything but silent.

He tiptoed behind her and suddenly whispered dramatically,
"Kriti ji... yeh jo gussa hai na, dil pe vaar karta hai..."

("Kriti ji... this anger? It attacks the heart directly...")

She didn't react. Not even an eye twitch.

He leaned down toward her ear and softly added,
"Waise aap jab gussa hoti ho na... aur bhi zyada sundar lagti ho. Gussail, but still sundar."

("By the way... when you're angry, you look even more beautiful. Fierce, but still beautiful.")

Kriti, without turning, said,"Ek aur lafz bola na, toh main book ki jagah tumhe issue karwa dungi permanent silence ke liye."

("Say one more word, and I'll have you permanently issued instead of a book to silence."

Arnav, faking a gasp, clutched his chest,"Arre wah! Matlab aap mujhe library ki property banana chahti ho? Kitna pyaar hai aapko mujhse..."

("Wow! So you want to make me library property? That means you really do love me...")

She grabbed a book from the shelf and raised it slightly like a warning. He raised his hands in surrender.

He tried again. This time, he gently pulled a paper from his pocket and slipped it onto the table next to her. It had a badly drawn cartoon sketch of Kriti, looking angry, with fire coming out of her ears. Next to it was a tiny Arnav holding a white flag that said,
"Sorry meri Krantikari Queen sad emoji heartbreak emoji"

("Sorry, my Revolutionary Queen")

Kriti glanced at it. Her lips twitched for a moment... then tightened again.

Arnav, seeing the flicker of a reaction, pushed further. He slowly pulled out a small pack of her favorite chocolate from his pocket and placed it in front of her like a peace offering.

In a whisper so soft only she could hear, he said,
"Ek chance de do na... gussa rehna toh shaam ke baad rehna, abhi toh thoda smile karlo... warna main library ke beech mein ghutne pe baith jaunga aur phir teacher mujhe nikal denge."

("Just give me one chance... you can stay angry after school, but for now - please smile a little... or I swear I'll go down on one knee right in the middle of this library. And then the teacher will throw me out.")

Kriti, still pretending to read her book, said under her breath,"Drama band karo... warna seriously nikalwa dungi."

("Stop the drama... or I will get you thrown out.")

Arnav, grinning softly,"Tum bol do Kriti... main duniya se bhi nikal jaun, bas tumhare dil mein thodi si jagah mil jaaye."

("Just say the word, Kriti... and I'll disappear from the world, as long as I get a small place in your heart.")

She finally turned, trying to hide her smile, shaking her head in disbelief.

Kriti mutters, trying not to melt,"Tum pagal ho Arnav... poore ke poore."

("You're crazy, Arnav... completely crazy.")

Arnav, his smile widening as if he just won a war,"Aur tum ho meri... sherni. Bas gussa mat ho, warna mere dil ka membership expire ho jayega."

("And you are my... lioness . Just don't stay mad, or the membership to my heart will expire."

After some time Kriti got busy with books so she didn't say anything. Just leaned forward, and then gently, with childlike ease placed his head on her shoulder.

Kriti glanced at him sideways but didn't push him away this time.
She simply turned another page.

Arnav, in a soft voice,"Yeh kitab kyun pad rahi ho? Art and craft mein interest kab se aa gaya?"

("Why are you reading this book? Since when are you interested in arts and crafts?")

Kriti kept her eyes on the page, her tone thoughtful,"Kal raat ek sapna dekha... ek wind chime tha, kuch alag sa. Usme awaz nahi thi... per itna Sundar ki dil aah jaye."

("I had a dream last night... there was a wind chime. Something different. It made no sound... but it was so beautiful, it made the heart sigh.")

She paused for a second, as if remembering the feeling.

Kriti smiles faintly,"Main pura din woh chime dhundhti rahi - online, shops, sab jagah. Nahi mila. Shayad... kisi kitab mein mil jaaye. Kabhi kabhi na, kuch sapne hote hain jo sirf dekhne mein sundar lagte hain."

("I spent the whole day looking for it - online, in shops, everywhere. Couldn't find it. Maybe... I'll find it in a book. Sometimes dreams are just meant to be admired... not owned.")

Arnav, lifting his head slightly, now looking at her with genuine curiosity and admiration,"Kaisa tha woh wind chime? Batao na. Mujhe suna hai."

("What did the wind chime look like? Tell me. I want to hear about it.")

Kriti explained to him, and he listened to her words with so much attention, his head still resting gently on her shoulder.

She spoke to him like an excited child, her eyes lighting up with every detail, her hands moving animatedly as she described the wind chime.

Arnav kept watching her face, smiling softly, completely mesmerized not just by her words, but by the way she glowed while speaking about something she loved.

______

Anushka was in the library, searching for a book. Vatsal, who had been quietly following her, walked up near the shelf, glanced at her, and smirked.

"You should look for a book called 'How to Resist a Handsome Man'," he said smoothly.

Without even turning, Anushka rolled her eyes and replied with a tight-lipped smile,
"Actually, you're right-because the men I resist aren't exactly handsome."

She walked past him, leaving Vatsal standing there, struggling to recover from the hit.

But he wasn't done yet. He ran behind her, trailing his fingers over the same corners of the shelf she had touched, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

Anushka noticed and sighed deeply.

He stepped in front of her with a book, opened it, and began reading aloud.

"Pyaar ka pehla kadam dosti ka naam hai...
Doosra kadam mohabbat ka paigam hai..."

("The first step of love is called friendship...
The second step is the message of true affection...")

Anushka snatched the book from his hands and slid it back on the shelf.
"Next step will be your trip to the hospital."

Again, she walked off.

Vatsal grinned like a kid, eyes soft.
"Only if you're the one confessing while I'm on a stretcher. In that case, I'd happily visit the hospital every day."

Anushka turned, rolled her eyes.
"Very funny. Now get lost. Don't disturb me, I'm trying to read."

Anushka sat on the chair, fully focused on her book. Vatsal scooted closer, trying to get her attention.

"Yaar, honestly... kitne khoobsurat ho tum. Lagta hai library ki jagah kisi dream sequence mein aa gaya hoon."

("Honestly... you're so beautiful. Feels like I've walked into a dream sequence instead of a library.")

No response.

He leaned sideways, whispering dramatically,
"Tum padh rahi ho, par main toh bas tumhe dekh kar likhne ka mann kar raha hoon apna future."

("You're reading, but just looking at you makes me want to start writing... about my future.")

Still nothing.

He faked a sigh.
"Main toh sirf yeh soch raha hoon... itna ignore kaise kar leti ho yaar? Thoda toh insaniyat dikhao."

("I'm just wondering... how do you ignore me so effortlessly? Show a little humanity, yaar.")

Anushka didn't even blink.

He pressed on, resting his chin on his hand.
"Main agar koi novel hota na... toh tum zaroor mujhe read karti kyunki main hota perfect romance."

("If I were a novel, you'd definitely read me... because I'd be perfect romance.")

Still no reaction.

Librarian shot them a glare.
"Silence!"

Vatsal backed off with a sheepish smile, then pulled out his phone.

Vatsal (text):
Kitna bhi ignore karo... sach toh yeh hai ki tum mujhe avoid karke aur bhi zyada attractive lagti ho.

("No matter how much you ignore me... the truth is, you look even more attractive when you're avoiding me.")

She saw it. No reply.

He typed again:
Teri aankhon mein kuch toh baat hai... jo mujhe roz yahan kheench lati hai. Shayad pyaar ke syllabus ka naam tum ho.

("There's something in your eyes... that pulls me here every day. Maybe you are the title of love's syllabus.")

Still unread.

He sent one more with a wink emoji:
Tumhara ignore karna bhi ek tarah ka green signal hi lagta hai mujhe.

("Even your ignoring feels like a green signal to me.")

Finally, she replied.

Anushka:
Acha? Toh phir main tujhe block kar doon kya? Full-time attractive ban jaungi?

("Oh really? Then should I block you? I'll become full-time attractive to you.")

Vatsal stared at the screen, jaw slightly open, and then burst into a silent grin.

Vatsal grinned and typed back instantly,Kar do na yaar... par block list mein first love ke naam se save karna.

("Go ahead... but save me in your block list as 'first love'.")

She scoffed and looked at him.

"Hopeless creature ho tum. Bilkul bekar."

("You're hopeless. Absolutely useless.")

Vatsal leaned in slightly, smiling.
"Hopeless nahi, bas tumhara hoon. Aur tum pe full focus mein hoon."

("Not hopeless, just yours. And fully focused on you."?

Anushka shut her book, turned to him with folded arms.
"Ek second bhi chup reh sakta hai kya?"

("Can you stay quiet for even one second?")

Vatsal gave a fake thinking face.
"Chup? Aapke saamne? That's like asking the sun not to shine. Impossible."

("Quiet? In front of you? That's like asking the sun not to shine. Impossible.")

She rolled her eyes.

"Tumhare jaise logon ke liye dictionary mein new word hona chahiye-'flirto virus'. Infectious and irritating."

("People like you need a new word in the dictionary-'flirto-virus'. Infectious and irritating.")

He chuckled.
"Main toh sirf tumhare liye contagious hoon. Baaki sab ke liye harmless."

("I'm only contagious to you. Harmless for the rest of the world.")

She shook her head, stood up to change her seat.
And he again followed her behind, not leaving her for a second.

____

Adhvik sat at his desk, eyes fixed on Manya across the room. A guy had been getting way too touchy with her since morning. Laughing too close. Brushing her arm deliberately. And she, too polite to react.

Adhvik clenched his fists under the table, jaw tight. He kept his gaze low, not wanting to create a scene. But inside, a storm was rising.

He muttered under his breath, teeth gritted-
"Mere khoon mein ubaal aa raha hai... kisi ki maut ho jayegi aaj mere haathon."

("My blood is boiling... someone's going to die by my hands today.")

His knuckles turned white as he gripped his pen.

Just then, outside the window, Palak walked past the corridor, carrying her guitar and diary. Her hair danced lightly in the breeze as she made her way to the basketball court.

She found a bench, settled down quietly. Placing the guitar on her lap, she opened her diary and clicked her pen. The pages fluttered for a second before she began to write lost in her world, far from the chaos around her.

Each stroke of her pen had a rhythm of its own. Her fingers occasionally tapped on the wood of the guitar gently, like she was composing a melody from her thoughts.

"Hmm-mm-mm, hmm-mm-mm aa-aa-aa, aa-aa-aa"

As Palak closed her eyes and softly began to sing, her voice flowed like a gentle breeze across the quiet court-

"Main tere kal mein hoon, aaj mein hoon
Main teri saanson ke saaz mein hoon
Aankhen jhuka ke sunle mujhe tu
Main tere dil ki aawaz mein hoon..."

The world around her faded, and it was just her, her melody, and the wind.

On the other side of the ground, hidden by a cluster of old trees, sat Pranjal his secret spot. A place he came to escape, to think, to breathe. And today, unknowingly, someone else had stepped into it with a voice that stilled everything in him.

He lifted his head, gaze drawn to the girl on the bench.

He stared, completely still, lips parting just slightly as the last line echoed from her lips-

"Tootoo na main bhi, toote na tu bhi..."

A moment passed.

Under his breath, barely audible, Pranjal whispered to himself-

Ishq ko bhi ishq se mohabbat ho jaaye,
Jab yeh shakhs sirf tere naam ho jaaye.
Chaand bhi apni roshni se ghabra jaaye,
Jab yeh shakhs uske saamne muskara jaaye.

("Even love itself falls in love with love,
When this person becomes yours alone.
Even the moon grows shy of its own light,
When this one smiles in its presence.")

Palak's voice trembled slightly but remained soft, soaked in memory. Her fingers stilled on the guitar as she sang, lost in a moment not from now-but from the past.

"Main tera sapna, tu mera vaada..."

Her mind drifted-
The first time she met Pranjal...
That Navratri night-the Dandiya, the firelight in his eyes...
Their trip, the laughter...
Him standing outside her window with messed-up hair and the dumbest excuse.
Showing up with Lotte choco pie just to convince her.
Eating her half-eaten paneer roll, even with a known allergy, just to make her smile.
Taking her punishment in school without thinking.
Motivating her to sing infront of so many people.

A tear slid down her cheek.

"Haaye, main mar hee jaaun jo tujhko na paaun
Baaton mein teri main raatein bitaun
Hothon pe lamha-lamha hai naam tera, haaye
Tujhko hee gaaun main, tujhko pukaarun..."

She paused, holding back the sob. But memories had no brakes.
His voice echoing in her head-

"I don't want to give you hopes... I don't like you."

It was cold. Final.

But her heart had never accepted it.

Her lips quivered as the next lines slipped out in a whisper.

"Saiyaara... tu to badla nahi hai
Mausam zara sa rootha hua hai..."

Her tears flowed freely now, dropping onto the pages of her diary.

Unbeknownst to her, Pranjal was watching frozen, silent. His secret spot in his heart was no longer hidden from her... but he made no move to speak.

His throat tightened. Eyes welled up. But he stayed still.

He just... listened.

Palak was still lost in her song, her tears quietly tracing down her cheeks. The world around her blurred until reality came crashing back.

A group of boys on the other side of the court were playing, their laughter echoing. One of them threw the basketball too hard, and it flew off-course fast, spinning, straight toward her.

She didn't see it coming.

But Pranjal did.

Without a second thought, he sprang up from his place. In a split second, he ran to her, grabbed the ball mid-air just inches before it could hit her face but the force made it slip and slam into his back.

He winced but didn't let go. His arm wrapped around her shoulders instinctively, pulling her into his chest. She gasped, startled, hands clenching the edge of his shirt.

For a moment, the world froze.

Palak's eyes widened in fear. Her breath caught. She slowly looked up and their eyes met.

His hand was still on her shoulder. Her hand was still on his chest.

Their eyes lingered. Something unspoken passed between them. Fragile. Heavy. Real.

Then the moment shattered.

Palak broke eye contact and stepped back,
"Tu-tumhe... tumhe chot lagi? Are you okay? Why did you come in front of that ball?"
She scanned his back with worried eyes, wiping her tears away without even realizing.

("You-you're hurt? Are you okay?")

But Pranjal's voice was low and hard.

"Koi aur hota toh uske liye bhi main yahi karta. You're not special"

("If it were someone else, I'd have done the same. You're not special.")

She froze. Her lips parted, but no words came out. Her heartbeat stuttered.

This hurts so much that she can't stand here for a second.
The one she had buried deep beneath hurt.

Before she could say anything, he turned around and shouted at the boys, voice sharp-
"Can't you play carefully? What if she actually got hurt?"

The boys muttered a hurried "sorry," but he didn't care.

Palak stayed silent, her eyes now blank. The warmth from his words had turned into the cold sting of memory.

Without another glance, she quietly picked up her diary, slung the guitar over her shoulder, and started walking away.

Pranjal stood still, watching her go, his hand still tingling from holding her, his chest full of words he still couldn't say.

Pranjal with a tear in his eyes,"Hate me, Palak. Hate me so much that the thought of me makes your heart ache. Hate me so much that you never want to see my face again. Hate me with the same madness you once loved me. Let your hate burn loud enough to silence every memory of us because that's the only way you'll stop loving me."

Palak hid beside the wall, sinking to the ground as silent sobs shook her body. She pressed her hands tightly over her mouth, trying to muffle the sound of her cries. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she broke down, crying and crying alone, unheard, and unseen.

Her shoulders trembled with every breath she tried to hold in, but the pain was too much to silence. The world around her faded into a blur as memories kept flashing before her eyes, words that hurt, moments that shattered her.

The pages of her diary fluttered open, as if guided not by the breeze, but by memory itself.

Prem ko prem se jaana,
Jab maine tumhe apna maana.
Kanha ko Radha se,
Shiv ko Parvati se,
Unh kahaniyon ko humne,
Hamesha jaana.

Parvati Shiv ki shakti hai,
Radha Krishna ki bhakti hain
Aur hum,
Aapke dil mein ush prem ko jagane ki shakti hain

She had always been the one to smile, to hold it all together, but in that corner, hidden from everyone, she let herself fall apart. Her heart ached, like something inside her was tearing open.

Why do soft girls always fall in love with a guy who doesn't consider her feelings and end up losing themselves?
Why??
_____

Everyone was now in class, waiting for the last period to end so they could go home and relax.

But Adhvik noticed the same boy he had been observing since morning he was touching Manya in an inappropriate way, and Manya was clearly trying to avoid getting close to him.

Then he saw the boy getting even closer to her.

Without thinking for a second, Adhvik stood up and punched him right in front of the entire class. Everyone froze in shock. Manya's eyes widened she had never seen Adhvik this angry before.

Adhvik pushed him against the wall and started punching him again.

Pranjal rushed to stop him, trying to pull him back.
Pranjal shouted, "Pagal ho gaya hai kya? Kya kar raha hai? Suspend ho jayega, Adhvik! Kyun maar raha hai?!"

("Have you lost your mind?! What are you doing? You'll get suspended, Adhvik! Why are you hitting him?!" )

Adhvik, still punching him, yelled furiously,
"How the fuck did he dare touch Manya?! Yeh saala kutta tab se ushe galat tarike se chhoone ki koshish kar raha hai! Maar dalunga aaj isse main!"

("How the hell did he dare touch Manya?! This bastard has been trying to touch her the wrong way since the morning! I'll kill him today!")

Adhvik gritting his teeth between punches
"How the fuck you touched her with this hands right I will break it how the fuck you make her uncomfortable fucker I will kill you I will make you regret every single second of you're life, How fucking to touch her she is m...."

And as Pranjal backs off, his eyes burning with rage, he mutters coldly while watching the guy squirm,
"Maar itna maar ki zinda na rahe kisko chunne ki himmat kari h samjh aaye ishe... ek bhi punch chhoot gaya na, main poora kaam khatam kar dunga."

("Hit him so hard he doesn't stay alive so he learns what it means to dare touch someone like her.
If even one punch is missed, I'll finish the job myself.")

The sound of skin meeting skin echoed across the classroom. Adhvik's knuckles were bloodied, but he didn't care. His eyes were locked on the boy crumbling under his fists the same boy who had dared to touch Manya.

His breathing was ragged, chest rising and falling like a storm ready to break. Around him, the classroom had frozen. No one moved. No one dared to.

Then-
The classroom door slammed open.

"What the hell is going on here?!" the teacher's voice cracked like a whip through the silence.

But Adhvik didn't stop. His fist landed one more brutal blow, sending the boy sprawling to the floor. His face was bloodied now, his pride shattered.

The teacher rushed forward and yanked Adhvik by the arm. "Adhvik, stop it! Have you gone completely crazy?!"

Still breathless, Adhvik stared at the boy with murder in his eyes. He didn't even look at the teacher. His voice came out low, shaking with fury.
""I'm teaching him what it means to lay a hand on her, sir."

Anushka who stepped forward, voice shaking, but her eyes steady. "Sir... woh ladka Manya ko subah se chhed raha tha. Galat tarike se touch kar raha tha. Manya was clearly uncomfortable... aur jab Adhvik ne dekha, usne control kho diya."

("Sir... that boy had been harassing Manya since morning. He was touching her inappropriately. Manya was clearly uncomfortable... and when Adhvik saw it, he lost control.")

The teacher's face tightened. He turned to the boy and-
Thappad.
A loud, merciless slap landed across his cheek.

"You think you're some kind of hero?" the teacher's voice was cold. "You touch a girl without her consent, and expect to walk away? How dare you?"

He spun back to Adhvik. "And Adhvik-just because you were right, doesn't give you the right to beat someone like this. You're a student. Is this how you'll solve everything? Tumhe bhi punishment ho sakta hai."

Adhvik's stare didn't waver. His fists were still clenched.
He took one step forward, his voice cold, measured, terrifying.
"Agar kisi ne Manya ko bina uski permission ke chhune ki sochi bhi na... toh main uske saare haddi tod dunga. Saans lene layak bhi nahi chhodunga."

("If anyone even thinks about touching Manya without her permission... I'll break every single bone in his body. I won't even leave him able to breathe.")

At that very moment, another voice entered the room. Heavy footsteps echoed from the corridor. It was Vatsal who had been called by another student.

His gaze dropped on the boy. His expression, normally calm, darkened like thunderclouds. His jaw tightened. He walked up, step by step, and stood right in front of him.

The teacher, visibly tense now, pointed toward the door. "Take both of them to the Principal's office. Now."and he left saying this from there.

He grabbed the boy by the collar, yanked him up,

"Ulti ginti shuru kar de... kyunki kal ka sooraj tu shayad dekh bhi na paaye.
Jisko tune haath lagane ki himmat kari hai na... woh meri behen hai. Meri."

("Start counting backwards... because you might not even live to see tomorrow's sunrise.
The girl you dared to touch... she's my sister. Mine.")

He pulled him closer, his breath sharp, his grip unshaking.

"Jo usse galat nazar se dekhega bhi na... jala dunga usse main. Aur ab toh tera kya haal hoga... yeh toh waqt hi batayega."

("Anyone who even looks at her the wrong way... I'll burn him to ashes. And what's going to happen to you now... only time will tell.")

He stared straight into the boy's terrified eyes.

"Tere ek-ek katre ko mitti mein mila diya... toh main Vatsal Mishra nahi. Manya ka bhai bhi nahi."

("If I don't crush every drop of blood in your body into the ground... then I'm not Vatsal Mishra. Not even Manya's brother.")

The boy couldn't utter a word. Fear had wrapped around his throat.

Across the room, Pranjal stood still silent, rigid. His eyes never blinked. Just a deathly, dark stare locked on the boy like a loaded weapon. No words. Just a promise of destruction.

The room was cold and quiet. The Principal scanned the three boys with a heavy gaze, then let silence linger a few seconds longer than comfortable.

"I've heard everything,"s he finally said. "And I'm not going to repeat what I think about behavior like this."

She looked at the boy first. "Misbehaving with a girl. Ignoring her clear discomfort. Touching her without consent. This school has zero tolerance for such filth. You are expelled. Effective immediately."

The boy's knees buckled. He tried to speak, but the Principal raised her hand and cut him off.

"Not a word."

Then, turning to Adhvik, she said with a grave expression, "As for you, Adhvik. What you did was out of line. Violence is not the answer. You're getting an official warning. Another stunt like this, and you'll face serious consequences."

Adhvik stood still, expression hard, eyes still holding fire.

"I'll take the warning, ma'am," he said coldly. "But I don't regret it."

The Principal's jaw tightened. "You're dismissed."

Outside the Principal's chamber, Manya stood silently by the wall. Her eyes found Adhvik-bruised knuckles, clenched jaw, rage still simmering beneath the surface.

She had never seen this side of him. The boy who rarely spoke loud had just torn the sky apart for her.

She didn't say a word.
Just kept looking at him-
Shocked, shaken... and silently safe.

And in that stillness, something changed.
Forever.

When the one who made everyone smile goes silent, it's not weakness-it's a storm gathering strength.
Even silence has a voice, and sometimes, the strongest souls speak through music, not words.
Remember: The darkest nights create the brightest stars.

___

Adivik barged in, hair tousled, blood crusted on his knuckles, and rage burning in his chest like wildfire. Harshit stood in the living room, waiting like a judge ready with his verdict.

"What kind of drama did you pull at school?!" Harshit thundered.
"You've ruined our reputation! What will people say?"

Before Adivik could speak, Anisha, standing near the staircase, flinched. "Harshit, please..." she whispered, her voice shaking, caught between two men she loved in two very different ways. But she knew-her words would be drowned.

Harshit's voice dropped into a cold smirk. ""But I have to admit one thing," he said, calculating.
"What you did... was smart. That girl's worth being friends with. Her father's going to invest money. It'll be good for our business."

That was it.

Adivik's body stiffened, his fists clenched again, not from the pain-but from the disgust.

He looked his father dead in the eye, voice rough and biting.

"Main dosti kisi ke baap ke cheque ke liye nahi karta, Mr. Patel," he said, voice rising. "Aap jaise logon ke liye rishton ka matlab sirf faayda hota hoga, mere liye nahi. Dosti mere liye koi deal nahi hoti... woh dil se hoti hai, kisi ke jeb dekh kar nahi."

("I don't make friends based on their father's cheque, Mr. Patel,"
"Maybe for people like you, relationships are about profit. Not for me. Friendship isn't a deal... it comes from the heart, not someone's wallet.")

The room turned still, the tension sharp enough to cut through air.

He pointed toward his mother, who stood frozen, tears gathering in her eyes.
"Whenever you needed something, you used Mom. Sometimes for business, sometimes for money. You never appreciated her presence, just exploited it!"

Anisha gasped softly, but didn't interrupt. Her silence was heavy, old, exhausted, and full of everything she never said.

Adivik's voice cracked now, but his rage didn't falter.
"You were never there when I needed you. You never taught me how to understand people, or how to build relationships. All you ever did was make deals. But family... family isn't a business contract!"

The silence before Adivik spoke wasn't calm-it was boiling.

Anisha stood frozen by the wall, her eyes glistening, hands trembling. She wanted to stop it, to speak, to protect both of them. But how do you stop a storm that's been waiting for years to erupt?

Adivik's voice cracked through the air like lightning.

"You want to talk about being a man?" he snapped, eyes locked on Harshit. "You don't even know how to be a father."

Harshit stiffened, but Adivik didn't stop-he couldn't now.

"You always used my mother. Only when you needed her. When it was about money, business, power then suddenly she mattered. But when she needed you... you were never there."

Anisha looked down, trying to hold back years of tears in one moment. But the truth had already begun to spill.

"She chose you because she loved you. But what did you do? You broke her every time."

Adivik's voice rose, shaky but sharp like glass.

"Where the hell were you when she was crying alone at night, in pain, pregnant with me? Where were you when she used to wipe her tears quietly because she didn't want me to see? Where were you when I needed a father?!"

"You talk about business? All you care about is f***ing money! That's all you've ever cared about!"

Harshit's face turned red, but he still said nothing.

"And that money?" Adivik laughed bitterly. "You have this company, this name, this life because of her. Her father gave you the first investment. Everything you own is because of my mother."

He took a deep breath, then looked at him with eyes full of rage and pain.

"And today, you have the audacity to tell me how to be a man?"
"No, Mr. Patel first learned how to be a father. Then come and ask me how to be a son."
"Because I know how to be a son. Okay?"

Harshit was fuming, his face red with rage. "You think you're some kind of hero?" he shouted, voice thundering through the walls. "You're just an ill-mannered, spoiled brat! You've done nothing but bring shame!"

Adivik's chest was rising fast, eyes ablaze, hands clenched so tight his nails dug into his palm. Anisha stood nearby, pleading with her eyes, her heart sinking with every word spoken.

Harshit pointed an accusing finger. "And you think you can stand here and lecture me? Look at yourself! This is that abdic blood talking! Boys like you are never worthy of being called sons!"Harshit shouted.
"And look at this, Anisha see how your son is talking to me? Is this the respect you're teaching him? You're turning my own son against me!"

That was it. The final trigger.

Adivik lost all control.

With a roar, he turned and slammed his fist into the mirror behind him. Glass shattered like the illusion of their broken family, and blood gushed instantly from his hand, dripping onto the floor, painting it in fury and pain.

Anisha gasped. "Adivik!" she stepped forward instinctively, fear flashing in her eyes.

But before she could touch him, he pulled back, glaring at her through the pain.

"Don't care about me, Mom," he spat, voice shaking, eyes stinging. "Care about him! The one who's never given a damn about you. Who used you like a stepping stone and still treats you like an old investment!"

Tears streamed down Anisha's cheeks now, silent and heavy.

"He never loved you," Adivik shouted, pointing at Harshit. "You were just a fool in love! And I hate that! I hate love! I hate what it does to people, makes them weak, makes them suffer in silence!"

He turned back to her, his voice cracking, broken.
"I never wanted to be like you, Mom. Never. I never wanted to be someone who keeps loving the person who destroys them."

Harshit was still yelling something behind him, something about how if he walked out, he better never come back but Adivik didn't hear it anymore.

He didn't turn back.

With blood trailing from his fist and fire burning in his chest, Adivik marched out the front door, slamming it shut behind him.

Adhvik sat alone on the cracked concrete steps outside the small general store, a spot far enough from his house to escape the storm inside his mind. This was his refuge whenever life got heavy, when the fights at home left his heart bruised and his thoughts tangled.

His head was buried deep in his knees, the weight of silence pressing down on him.

Then, a soft sound caught his attention. He looked up slowly.

There, standing just a few feet away, was Manya eyes bright with curiosity, lips curled in a teasing half-smile.

Adhvik blinked, surprised. "What are you doing here?" he asked, voice rough but curious.

Manya shrugged with a sly grin, stepping closer. "Same question for you,"

Adhvik looked at her, his brows furrowed in confusion.
"Pehle maine tujhse poocha tha ki tu yahan kya kar rahi hai... toh pehle tu hi bata," he said, his voice calm but curious.

("I asked you first what you're doing here... so you answer first,")

Manya sat beside him, ignoring his question like it didn't even matter.
"Vah baat aisi hai na... ki aaj kisi ne mere liye bahut acche se stand liya. Aur sach kahun toh mujhe iski aadat nahi hai. Toh socha, thank you toh bolna chahiye. Uski life location ka pata laga liya maine... thodi shi detective toh hoon hi main."

("Well, the thing is... today, someone stood up for me. And honestly, I'm not used to that. So I thought... I should say thank you. Found his location... I mean, I do have some detective skills.")

Adhvik stared at her, confused for a moment... and then let out a small chuckle. Typical Manya.

But the moment shifted. Her eyes fell on his hands and her expression changed. There was blood. A deep cut across his palm. Manya froze for a second... and then panic took over. Without saying a word, she began digging into her bag, pulling out a small bottle of Dettol, some cotton, and a folded hanky.

Adhvik frowned. "Kya kar rahi hai tu?"

("What are you doing?")

She didn't answer. Didn't even flinch. She dipped the cotton in Dettol and began cleaning the wound gently, murmuring under her breath,
"Gadha kahin ka... jab dekho chot laga leta hai. Dimag ke naam par toh cheeni ke dabbe mein bech aaya hai. Hamesha aisi hi pagal wali harkatein karta hai... zaheel kahi ka."

("Idiot... always getting himself hurt. Probably sold his brain in a sugar jar. Always doing these stupid stunts... senseless guy.")

He watched her. Every word. Every expression. She was scolding him like a child, mumbling to herself, fussing over him while her hands kept working on his injury.

"Bhai tu na muh pe bol... yeh push-push ke mat bol. Ajeeb lagta hai," he said softly, teasing her.

("Just say it to my face, don't mumble like that. It's weird,")

She stopped. Looked up. And snapped.

"Pagal aadmi! Yeh chot kaise lagi? Itna sara khoon beh raha hai aur tu aise hi ghoom raha hai? Dava nahi lagani chahiye thi? Ghar bech ke aaya hai kya? Waise bhi dimag toh tere paas kab tha! Yeh kya harkat hai? Aisi harkat kaun karta hai? Kitni suaron wali harkat hai yeh! Tum pakka bahan ka Rasgulla ho. Main tujhe aise hi nahi bolti hoon, tu waisa hi hai. Kaam bhi tera waisa hi hai. Mann karta hai tera sar fook ke tandoor main sekh doon!"

("Crazy guy! How did this even happen? There's so much blood and you're just walking around like nothing happened? Couldn't even put on some medicine? Did you sell your house too while you were at it? Not like you ever had brains anyway! Who even does this kind of stuff? Such pigheaded behavior! You're definitely your sister's Rasgulla. I don't call you that for no reason. Your actions match perfectly. I swear, I feel like roasting your head in a tandoor!")

And there she was still cleaning his hand, still yelling at him, her face full of dramatic expressions, every emotion stitched with care. Adhvik didn't say a word. He just looked at her.

She was loud. She was angry. She was frustrated.

But most of all... she cared.

And in that moment, Adhvik smiled because no matter what words came out of her mouth, her actions had already said it all.

Sometimes, enemies stay close not out of hate... but because they're the ones who care the loudest.

And after that, Manya noticed the smile on his face subtle, yet undeniably there. Her eyes narrowed instantly.

"Tu muskura kyun raha hai? Main yahaan jaan nikal ke daant rahi hoon aur tu hansa jaa raha hai?" she snapped, pulling his hand a little rougher this time, though still careful not to hurt him.

("Why are you smiling? I'm standing here scolding the life out of you and you're just sitting there smiling?")

Adhvik didn't reply. He just kept smiling, his eyes fixed on her, amused by the storm she had turned into.

This irritated her even more.

"Tujhe har cheez mazaak lagti hai na? Banda chot khata hai, lekin usko serious hona zaroori nahi lagta! Kya tu kabhi normal behave kar sakta hai?"

("You think everything's a joke, don't you? You get hurt but don't feel the need to take it seriously! Can you ever behave like a normal human being?")

But Adhvik was lost in the way she moved, the way her forehead creased in concern, the way she pretended to be angry while her hands continued treating him like he was made of glass.

Manya huffed, tying the hanky tightly around his wound.
"Ho gaya. Ab chale ja yahan se. Mujhse na ho payega ab aur drama."

("Done. Now get out of here. I can't handle any more of this drama.")

She stood up, dusting her hands, clearly annoyed but her face betrayed her heart. The care, the panic, the protectiveness... it was all still there.

Adhvik finally spoke, voice low, but laced with emotion.
"Tu chila le jitna chila sakti hai... par tujhe dekh ke aaj sach mein sukoon mila. Aise gussa karegi toh zindagi bhar sunta rahunga."

("Yell all you want... but seeing you today, I actually felt peace. If you're going to get angry like this, I wouldn't mind listening to it for the rest of my life.")

Manya froze mid-step, refusing to turn back, biting her lower lip to hide the smile threatening to escape.

Enemies? Maybe in words.
But in that moment, their silence said something else entirely.

Manya crossed her arms and looked at him, still half annoyed.
"Ab tu bata... tu yahan kya kar raha tha? Akela, chup-chaap?"

("Now you tell me... what were you doing here? Alone, sitting quietly?")

Adhvik looked away, shrugging slightly.
"Bas... mann nahi tha ghar pe rehne ka. Aise hi aa gaya."

("Just... didn't feel like being home. So I came here.")

He didn't say much. Just silence again. That same strange silence that said more than words ever could.
Manya softened a little, her voice turning gentler.

"Sometimes, words fall short and silence feels safer... but in that silence, the presence of someone who simply stays without questions, without demands can heal more than a thousand conversations.
Because not every wound needs to be spoken,
some just need to be seen"

Adhvik looked at her then, really looked. Something in her words stayed with him. Maybe it was her tone, or maybe the quiet truth in them.

Manya softly, looking away,"You know why I never told anyone that Vatsal is my brother? Because I never wanted to be the center of attention. I don't want people around me just because of who I'm connected to. I just want a few real ones... the kind who are there because they truly care, not the ones who show up when they need you and disappear once they've used you.

Vatsal isn't my brother by blood, but he treats me like more than that. He protects me like I'm his own no, even more. And Pranjal too... They both do. I know they love me. But I don't want that love to become my identity. I don't want to feel like I'm only safe, only seen, just because of them.

I want to be strong... for myself. Not protected like I'm fragile. That's why I kept it all hidden."

Adhvik looked at with admiration not because of her words but the way she carried on these things and never spoke the way she never showed how she's feeling.

Manya voice trembling but steadying herself as she speaks, "You know Adhvik... the way you take stand for me, I sometimes wonder if I could ever take that stand for myself in these situations.

Because when a girl is touched in a way she never agreed to, something inside her breaks. But do you know what hurts more? It's not just the person who did it... it's the silence that follows. It's the whispers, the judgment, the eyes that look at her differently not with support, but suspicion.

She's scared... not of the man who hurt her, but of the society that blames her for being hurt.

They ask what she was wearing.
They ask why she was there.
They ask if she smiled too much, spoke too sweetly, and stayed out too late.

No one ever asks the boy-'Why did you do it?'
No one teaches the boy-'Don't touch without consent.'

But the girl? She learns silence.
She learns shame.
She learns to hide her pain because the world says, 'You must have done something wrong.'

And then she dies. Sometimes not in the body... but in the spirit.
And again, they say-'She must have been weak.'
But no.
She wasn't weak.
She was just tired.

Tired of proving that her 'no' meant no.
Tired of screaming in a world that only listens when it wants to.
Tired of being told how to live, how to dress, how to survive.

But I'm learning.
every girl who was blamed for her own scars.

You've become my shield, even when I didn't ask for one. And I'm truly thankful because at that moment, when it happened... I froze.

You know, I've always believed I'm strong. I've always told myself Manya, you'll fight back. You won't stay silent.
But that day... I couldn't.

Not because I was weak.
Not because I didn't want to speak.
But because something inside me shattered.

I felt... so uncomfortable in my own skin.
Like my voice disappeared when I needed it the most.
Like the world around me suddenly became a place where I wasn't safe anymore, not even inside myself.

And that's the worst part.
We girls... no matter how powerful we become, how loud our voices are, how fearless we appear...
There's still this one moment that one horrible moment where fear grips us so tightly that we feel caged inside our own bodies.

Not because of him-
But because of what comes after.
The blame.
The shame.
The silence.

But I know this now-
That silence shouldn't win.
Fear shouldn't win.
And no girl should ever have to feel like I did.

We all deserve to fight back.
We all deserve to feel safe.
We all deserve to be heard.
And maybe, if one girl speaks, a hundred others will rise too."

Adhvik thinks, watching Manya speak his eyes soft, heart full," She doesn't even realize how strong she already is.
Even in her silence, she carries storms.
Even in her fear, she stood there brave, broken, but breathing... and here I'm still trying.

And as she spoke, I didn't just see a girl who needed protection.
I saw a warrior who forgot for a second that she had a sword in her soul.

He gently smiles, takes her hand and speaks softly, "Manya... you don't have to thank me.
I'll always stand by you not because I think you're weak, but because I know how strong you are... and even warriors need someone to hold their hand sometimes.

And listen...
You're not alone. Not today, not ever.
I'm with you always.
Even in your silence, even in your storms.
Because someone like you? You're not meant to hide behind anyone.
You're meant to rise... and I'll be there, clapping the loudest when you do."

Manya looked at him, her eyes glimmering with emotions too tangled to name... something unspoken. A small smile curved her lips, fragile yet full. The kind of smile that says a thousand things without saying a word.

Adhvik just picked up his phone and clicked a photo of her from the side.

Manya turned sharply.
"Kya kar raha hai tu?"

("What are you doing?")

He smirked. "Bas... tu bol rahi thi, toh laga freeze kar loon moment."

("Nothing... you were talking, so I thought I'd freeze the moment.")

"Delete kar!" she lunged forward.

("Delete it!")

He laughed and started clicking more pictures in front of her this time.
One from the left. One while she tried to snatch the phone.
One when she glared.
One when she almost tripped over her own feet.

"Abe hatt! Main sundar nahi lag rahi hoon mein!" she shouted, laughing now.

("Hey, stop it! I don't even look good in these!" )

"Perfect expression, bahut sundar lag rahi hain tu chup kar ," he teased, zooming into one dramatic frame.

("Perfect expressions. You look very pretty, so shut up,")

Then he made weird filters-big eyes, mustache, dog ears.
"Yeh dekh! Tera royal look!"

("Look! Your royal look!")

Manya tried to punch him, but he ducked, still holding the phone high.
"Tere jaise photographer se toh selfie stick better hoti!" she yelled, now completely giving in to the silliness.

("Even a selfie stick is better than a photographer like you!")

Their bickering turned into bursts of laughter.
And then for a moment-just a second-they both stopped. Looked at each other.

Manya, still catching her breath from all the laughing and pushing, suddenly said,
"Chal... ek photo milke lete hain. Proper wali. Without your annoying filters."

("Come on... let's take one photo together. A proper one. No stupid filters.")

Adhvik raised an eyebrow. "Tu bol rahi hai? Kya baat hai."

("You're asking for it? Well, well... what's gotten into you?")

She rolled her eyes, but stood beside him. They both leaned in close, but not too close. Just enough for the picture to say more than it looked.
Click.

The photo came out soft, warm... honest. A moment caught between chaos and calm.
Manya stared at it for a second, then, without thinking, sent it to Adhvik.

He didn't say anything. Just looked at the picture. And then... sent it too.

On both sides, they looked at their screens quietly.
Adhvik looked at his phone, saw the picture, and smiled.
Manya glanced at Adhvik. He glanced at her.
Both smiled faintly, unintentionally synced.

And then silently, without a word Manya set that photo as her wallpaper.
So did Adhvik.
She typed a tiny caption beneath it, right across the screen:
With Adhvik... My Enemy Heart.

And on his, he wrote quietly:
With Manya... My Enemy Heart .

They didn't talk about it. Didn't explain why. Didn't even look at each other when they did it.
They just... did it.

They didn't know why.
They just felt it.
At that moment, it felt right.

Enemies? That's what they told the world.
But deep down, they were something else. Something strange. Something neither friendship nor rivalry could define.

They were enemy-friends. A confusing, chaotic, unexplainable bond.
Too close to be strangers.
Too stubborn to be lovers.
Too tangled to walk away.
And too important to let go.

Whatever this was... it was theirs.
And somehow, that was enough.

____

There, a person with a black hoodie and his face was hidden and he was holding a metal rod tightly in his hand.
In front of him, another person knelt, head bowed down, barely able to lift himself.

But that wasn't enough.
Rage had blinded the one holding the rod.
And with every swing, every crack, every scream the silence of another kind echoed.

He wasn't speaking.
Just beating.
Like he was trying to silence not the other person, but the storm inside himself.

And then it happened.

The person on the ground gasped once, sharply.

His voice was low, cold, controlled, but shaking with intensity.

"Tu ne usse chhoo liya... usse, jise chhoone ka sapna bhi nahi dekhna chahiye tha. Joh joh koshish karega na aisi harkat karne ka uska woh haal karunga main jism se rooh kaap jaye"

("You touched her... the one you shouldn't even dream of touching.
Anyone who even tries something like this-I'll make sure their body trembles down to their soul.")

He stepped closer, the rod scraping against the ground like the final countdown.

A pause.

A glare that could cut through bone.

And then he walked away from there while his face was covered in a hoodie .