Vihan and Abhi trudged toward the classroom, shirts clinging to their backs. Hours of practice and aimless wandering across the sprawling university campus had worn them down.
The back door was slightly ajar—unlocked earlier by Dino. They exchanged a glance and slipped inside, footsteps muted against the tiled floor, before sinking into their usual seats at the back.
Abhi scanned the room. Something felt… off. His brow furrowed as he leaned forward and tapped Dino's shoulder.
"Where's Ayan?" he asked quietly.
Dino turned, answering in a low hum. "He didn't come today."
Abhi's gaze met Vihan's. Ayan never skipped class—punctual to a fault. Especially after yesterday's events, his absence was unsettling.
"Brother's still worried?" Vihan asked, hesitant.
Abhi sighed. "He couldn't sleep all night… and this morning, he rushed me to class just to check on Ayan."
Pulling out his phone. Abhi's hand hovered over the screen, and he quickly typed: "Could you meet me at the junior wing?"
The reply came almost instantly: "I can't."
Two short words. No explanation. Abhi frowned, staring at the screen, waiting for a follow-up that never came.
Vihan glanced at him but stayed silent. Both knew they'd have to find out what was going on.
---
[At the University Gate]
They waited, the chatter of passing students fading into background noise.
Soon, Aarav and Karan approached, their hurried steps echoing against the pavement.
"They both didn't attend practicals." Aarav murmured, his voice tight with concern.
Vihan shifted uneasily. "…Maybe they have something to do."
Aarav's frown deepened. "Ayan hasn't been in touch since yesterday... I guess something's wrong."
Abhi looked at Aarav's concerned and unsettling expression.
Then—he finally spoke, his voice steady. "Let's go to their mansion… at night, so no one notices."
The conviction in his tone silenced any protest. Aarav hesitated, then nodded. They all knew it was the only way to end the gnawing uncertainty.
---
[That night— Singh mansion]
The last light of day bled across a barren landscape.
A woman clutched a trembling child against her chest, fear shivering through her bones, though her gaze stayed fixed—unyielding. Shadows shifted ahead; a group of men blocked every escape.
One stepped forward, pressing the cold barrel of a gun to her forehead. She shut her eyes, bracing herself.
The child dared to look. Through his tears, he saw a face—familiar even in the gloom. A school uniform. A soft, knowing smile.
And then—darkness.
Ayan's eyes snapped open. It's a dream—a nightmare, a dark side of his vague childhood.
He lay in bed, fever burning through his body, a cool compress on his brow.
"Brother..." He babbled, almost whispering.
Beside him sat Arun, worry etched deep into his face. "Ayan, I'm here," he murmured, taking his hand.
Ayan's voice came in a faint whisper. "Senior Aarav…"
A pause. "He is a good person, right?"
The question caught Arun off guard. He searched his brother's pale face for meaning.
But Ayan pressed on, his breaths uneven. "He's saved me… so many times. He makes me feel… safe."
Arun's chest tightened. He was not sure how to answer that sudden query.
But he still answered, "Yes… he is. But rest for now."
He tucked the blanket around Ayan, replaced the compress, and his gaze drifted to a framed photograph of their mother holding a baby.
Hope we could change everything.
---
[Arun's Memory—Years later]
The hospital room was hushed, machines beeping steadily. On the bed, a bruised three-year-old boy lay tangled in tubes.
A seven-year-old Arun sat beside him, eyes heavy with worry.
Outside, the door creaked open—voices drifted in.
"Your son is out of danger, Sir… but the incident was too much for a child. We can only hope he recovers well."
After hearing these words Arun stood.
Then stepped into the hall. His father, Mr. Singh, stood pale and shaken—until his gaze landed on Mr. Rawat. Fury replaced grief.
"It's all your fault… you always leave the ones who need you most." Mr. Singh blunts out.
A beat of silence hung heavy between them. Mr. Singh's gaze hardened, his eyes dropping to the fist trembling at his side.
"…Or did you actually plan all of this?"
Mr. Rawat froze, staring at him in disbelief. For a moment, he couldn't even process the words.
He swallowed hard, the weight of the accusation pressing down like a stone on his chest. But stayed silent, those words crushing him.
Arun closed the door, shutting out the voices, and returned to the bedside.
The younger boy stirred, his injured body moved a little, hard to notice.
Then whispered one word: "Brother."
Arun tightened his grip, silently vowing he would always be there.
---
[Back to the Present]
Outside the towering mansion, Aarav and Abhi stood beneath dim streetlights.
"Go," Abhi said firmly. "I'll watch security."
Aarav hesitated. "Sure you don't want to wait in the car?"
Abhi shook his head. "I'm not staying alone in the dark."
Their eyes met—determination and unease—and then Aarav slipped into the shadows, leaving Abhi alert and waiting.
The night ahead promised no certainty, only answers they weren't sure they were ready to find.