Then they both continued eating.
The television played in the background, the anchor's voice cutting through the quiet: "It's been two weeks since one of the world's most expensive diamonds was stolen from the city museum. Based on CCTV footage, authorities believe the theft was carried out by a group of seven individuals. However, their identities remain unknown. Still, no arrests have been made. Social media is flooded with criticism, accusing the department of sleeping through the crisis."
The news anchor's words hung heavy in the room. Bhairava didn't react. He simply continued eating.
Then the anchor's voice continued, "There was an accident in Azhagi Town, JC Road, the night before yesterday. A woman named Varsha was returning home when a speeding car struck her. She died on the spot. The investigation revealed that the driver was heavily intoxicated and fled the scene. After verifying footage from the signal camera, the suspect was arrested yesterday."
Bhairava, mid-bite, slowly lifted his head toward the television. On the screen, a photo of the victim appeared, a young woman with soft blond hair, warm brown eyes, and a gentle smile. But it wasn't the photo that made him stop. Behind it, faint video footage played,
His eyes widened. "That girl…"
Then came the next footage: a video of the arrest. Amid the crowd, a girl stood sobbing, her shoulders trembling, her face twisted in grief.
It was Ananya.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched the man being taken away. Her pain was raw, unfiltered.
And in that moment, Bhairava understood. The woman in the photo was her sister.
Shivani watched Bhairava, his eyes locked on the television, unmoving, his breakfast untouched. She frowned, leaned over, and pinched his hand sharply.
"Ow!" Bhairava yelped, jerking back and glaring at her.
Shivani signed firmly, "Eat your food."
"Okay, got it! Why are you pinching me for that?"
He sighed and picked up his spoon, still glancing at the screen between bites. Shivani shook her head, lips pressed in quiet disappointment. She knew this side of him well, Bhairava had been drawn to the news like a magnet. Every headline, every detail, he absorbed with the intensity of someone already living the life of a journalist.
She reached for the remote lying on the dining table.
The anchor's voice was just beginning another report: "There was a body found…"
Click.
The channel switched. A music video began playing, upbeat and bright, cutting through the tension in the room.
Bhairava frowned. "Why did you change the channel?"
Shivani turned to him with a sharp look, her brows furrowed in quiet frustration.
He in surrendering tone, "Never mind," he muttered, returning to his plate.
They finished breakfast in silence, the rhythm of the song filling the background. After clearing the table, Shivani grabbed the packet of dog food, poured it into Bell's bowl, and filled another with water. She placed them gently near the golden retriever, who lay curled up in peaceful sleep.
Outside, Bhairava stepped into the morning light, carrying two bags. He placed one into the cycle's front basket, adjusted the straps, and slung the other over his shoulder. The air was warm, the street quiet.
Just then, Aarya stepped out of her house, timing perfect as always. Shivani's eyes lit up the moment she saw her and waved with exaggerated excitement, her hand slicing through the air like a flag in the wind.
Aarya smiled and walked over, her mother trailing behind with a curious look.
"Bhairava, you live right next door, but it's so hard to catch a glimpse of you," Aarya's mother said, half teasing, half genuinely puzzled.
Aarya chuckled softly. "He's become very busy," she said, glancing at Bhairava with a knowing smirk.
"Is it?" her mother asked, raising an eyebrow.
Bhairava smiled politely, adjusting the strap on his shoulder. "Not like that, Aunty," he replied, voice warm but modest.
Laughter lingered in the air, soft and warm, as the morning bloomed with a rare lightness. Shivani climbed onto the back of Aarya's cycle, her energy still bubbling from the cheerful exchange. Bhairava adjusted his own cycle, steady and quiet, preparing to leave.
Aarya glanced at him, her voice casual but curious. "Where is your mom?"
Without turning, Bhairava replied, "She left. I think she took one more case." His tone was even, but distant, as he began pedalling forward.
Aarya's smile faded slightly. Her eyes dropped for a moment, and she muttered, "Okay."
She followed, her cycle rolling beside his, Shivani perched behind her, humming softly to the tune that still played in her head.
The street stretched ahead, bathed in soft sunlight and morning calm. As usual, Mano joined them midway, hopping onto the back of Bhairava's cycle with practiced ease. They dropped Shivani off at her school, and continued toward college.
Inside the classroom, the usual patterns played out. Dev, quiet and withdrawn, became the target of bullies again. But Divin, steady and protective, stood up for him without hesitation. Around them, the rest of the class focused on thesis work, heads bent over notes and some on laptop, the hum of academic urgency filling the air.
Ananya's seat remained empty. Her absence was quiet but heavy, a reminder of the tragedy that had struck just days before. No one spoke of it, but everyone felt it.
At the back, Kiran kept glancing at Devi, fingers tapping out something on his phone. Devi, lying across her desk, stared at her own screen with visible tension. She read something, froze, then placed the phone down without replying. Kiran watched her closely. After a while, Devi stood and left the class. Kiran followed, quiet and deliberate.
Later, during lunch break, the trio sat on the rooftop, the breeze brushing past them, the city humming below.
Mano leaned back, chewing on a piece of fruit. "So… did you lucid dream last night?"
Bhairava hesitated. His fingers tapped. He had. He remembered every detail. But it wasn't the kind of dream he wanted to revisit.
"I don't want to talk about it," he said quietly, eyes fixed on the ground.
Mano raised an eyebrow. "That bad?"
Bhairava nodded. He didn't want to go into details—it had left him unsettled. Even though he knew it was a dream, even though he had control, the feeling lingered. A bad dream is still a bad dream, no matter how aware you are.
Aarya, overhearing their conversation, realized this was the first time she'd heard Bhairava speak about such dreams. Bhairava then explained what lucid dreaming meant and what he had been doing within the dream.