The Werewolf and the Transfer Student
I left for college earlier than any of my siblings. I had my own reasons for that.
So, hello. My name is Abhimanyu. Leo's younger brother.
The weather today was partly cloudy, the monsoon sky playing hide-and-seek with the sun. It was typical weather for this time of year—oppressive one minute, breezy the next. I navigated the damp campus of my popular, high-tier university, a place I had admittedly only gotten into through my family's "donations," being an art student.
I walked into the classroom and sat down at my desk, right at the very front bench. I rested my chin on my hands, my long bangs immediately falling forward to curtain my face.
Behind me, the room was a chaotic symphony of morning noises and gossip. Normally, in an Indian college, a guy would have a solid friend group by now. But I was a special case. You could even say I was the reason other boys became friends—nothing unites people quite like a common anomaly.
"Wow! Does the Werewolf even take a bath? Or did he just crawl straight out of the woods to get here?"
"I heard if you take a photo or video of him, bad things will happen to you unless you forward it to ten other people within a week..."
These were the kinds of whispers I heard daily. Thanks to my long, overhanging bangs and my refusal to speak unless necessary, I've been called everything from "the man who climbed out of the well" to "The Werewolf."
Just listen to them, I thought to myself, utterly unbothered. Them messing around with me like this was a daily occurrence. I had already gotten used to it.
Today marked the start of the second semester, which meant the potential for new faces. As I tuned into the chatter, I noticed the boys' topic had shifted from my grooming habits to a transfer student. Apparently, a female transfer student was joining our class today to turn a new page in her life.
Don't fantasize that the transfer student will be your long-lost love who just happens to arrive with perfect timing when everyone is making fun of you, I reminded myself dryly. That only happens in cheap novels. I believe in reality, not fantasy.
Outside the window, the weather began to shift again. The clouds were packing densely together, turning a bruised, violent purple. Thunder started rumbling in the distance, sounding like a steady drumbeat. Feeling a sudden, ominous shift in the atmosphere—like something stormy was about to happen inside as well—I unscrewed the cap of my Mountain Dew bottle.
I took a long gulp. It was just tap water. Don't drink soft drinks or carbonated garbage. Just drink delicious, hydrating water. Peace. ✌🏻
The classroom door slid open. The chatter instantly died down as our class teacher walked in. We all stood to greet him, but my attention was caught by the girl walking right beside him.
She had fair skin and dark hair that brushed lightly against her shoulders. She wasn't wearing earrings like a typical Indian college girl, which made her stand out in a subtle way. Her eyes were large and perfectly round, complementing her slim nose and slightly sharp jawline. When she offered a nervous smile to the room, soft, chubby cheeks appeared, making her look surprisingly approachable.
Because I sat at the very first bench, I had a perfect, up-close view of her. And she had a perfect view of me.
Suddenly, her eyes locked onto mine through the gaps in my bangs. Before the teacher could even point to the chalkboard, the transfer student lunged forward. She bypassed the podium completely, jumped onto me, and wrapped her arms tightly around my neck in a crushing hug.
"Finally, I found you!" she squealed, burying her face into my shoulder. "I missed you so, so much!"
"W-What are you doing all of a sudden?" I choked out in pure panic, my hands hovering awkwardly in the air. "P... please let me go!"
In that moment, I could feel a physical shockwave ripple through the entire classroom. The silence was deafening. I could practically hear every single guy behind me thinking, There's actually someone in the world whose type is the Werewolf?!
"Uhhhm!" The teacher cleared his throat loudly, his face a mixture of confusion and strictness. "I'm sorry to interrupt your... reunion, Miss Bansal."
"Yes?" she replied innocently, finally letting go of me and looking back at the teacher.
"You were supposed to be doing your self-introduction," he exclaimed, gesturing to the front of the room.
"Oh, right! I'm sorry! I got too excited," she giggled, stepping away from my desk and walking back toward the podium.
As I watched her, I raised my eyebrows, my mind racing. Bansal!? Surely it's not the Bansal I'm thinking of...!?
She turned to face the stunned class, raised her right hand in a cheerful wave, and started her introduction in incredibly high spirits.
"I'm Ishita Bansal! The guy seated right there, Abhimanyu Deshpande, is my foster brother! We'll be getting married in the future, so please get along well with both of us!"
She just dropped a nuclear bomb.