The tension between Rishi and the junior girl had escalated beyond repair. What once began as a heated misunderstanding had now grown into something volatile—an unspoken war that consumed them both.
At college, things were no longer subtle. Their project sessions had turned into battlegrounds. Every word exchanged carried barbs, every stare challenged the other. Classmates had started to notice the tension. Whispers spread like wildfire.
"They hate each other."
"No, it's more than hate. There's something else..."
Rishi, once reserved and distant, was now openly hostile. And the girl, wounded and misunderstood, returned the fire with equal fury. Raj and Rajiv watched helplessly as things spiraled.
---
One afternoon, as they sat by the canteen wall, Raj fumed.
"This is getting out of hand. Did you see the way they screamed at each other today? Over a misplaced file?"
Rajiv sighed, resting his head against the wall. "I thought time would ease it. But they're only pulling each other deeper into this mess."
"What if we told them the truth? That she was the one who saved Rishi?"
Rajiv turned sharply. "No. Not yet. That truth has to find them, not the other way around. If we force it, it'll lose meaning."
Raj kicked a stone. "Then what? Sit and watch them destroy themselves?"
---
That evening, Rajiv returned home, his face tired. His father, Devendra Verma, looked up from his files.
"Tough day?"
Rajiv dropped his bag on the sofa and slumped next to him. "It's Rishi. He's... he's not handling things well."
Devendra set his reading glasses aside. "Still the same fight with that girl?"
"Worse. They can't even be in the same room without it becoming a battlefield."
Devendra poured him a glass of water. "Your generation avoids pain like it's poisonous. But sometimes pain is the only way we grow."
Rajiv looked up, confused.
Devendra continued, "Rishi is not fighting that girl, beta. He's fighting something inside himself. She's just become the mirror."
That night, Devendra called Rishi over. No pretense. Just an old friend's son visiting.
They sat in the garden. The silence between them spoke more than words.
"You've grown, Rishi. Not just in height... in silence too," Devendra said with a small smile.
Rishi chuckled, but it lacked warmth.
"You know, your father and I... we used to talk about dreams over chai in this same garden. He always said you'd do great things. But only if you didn't lose yourself chasing what hurt you."
Rishi's eyes lowered.
Devendra placed a hand on his shoulder. "You haven't lost your way. But you're letting your pain steer you. Don't."
Rishi nodded faintly. But inside, he was boiling.
---
The next day at college, another confrontation.
The girl had come late to the presentation. Rishi, already tense, called her out in front of everyone.
"Some people think deadlines are optional."
She fired back, "Some people think they own the room."
The professor sighed, already used to their clashes.
After class, Raj pulled Rishi aside. "Bro, what are you doing? This isn't you."
"Then maybe I'm becoming who I should be," Rishi snapped.
That evening, the girl drove by Rishi's house again. Slowed for a moment. But didn't stop.
Inside, Rishi sat at his desk. Staring at the same sketch.
Those eyes.
Those same damn eyes.
He closed the notebook.
---
Back in her room, That girl sat with her diary open beside her, the faint hum of her ceiling fan blending with her swirling thoughts.
She wasn't confused.
She knew exactly what she'd done that day - how she had found him bleeding near the park , called the ambulance, stayed till he was stable, and left without giving her name. She had done it not for recognition, not for thanks but because something in her had refused to walk away.
Now?
That same boy had become her greatest source of anger.
"He doesn't even remember," she muttered bitterly. "Maybe he doesn't care."
She opened her gallery, not to reminisce, but to remind herself that what she did came from strength and weakness.
One photo caught her gaze a blurry capture of Rishi in the hospital corridor, unconscious.
She stared at it for a moment, then whispered, "You may hate me now... but one day you'll remember. And when you do-I won't be there to forgive you."
She didn't delete the photo.
Instead, she locked it.
Buried it deep inside a password-protected folder.
Not to forget it.
But to save it for the day he'd finally understand.
---
That night, Rajiv found Raj pacing again.
"This is it. We're losing them to their own mess."
Rajiv paused. "Or maybe they need to burn through it. Only then will they rise."
Raj stopped. "Phoenix style?"
"Exactly."
Some flames don't just destroy.
They cleanse.
To be continued...