The lab emptied slowly.
Chairs scraped back. Bags were slung over shoulders. The earlier excitement had settled into something quieter—tired, thoughtful.
Amit lingered.
He stood near the doorway, backpack hanging loose from one shoulder, eyes darting as if deciding whether it was safe to speak.
Varun noticed.
"Go on," Varun said to the others. "You have other classes."
The room emptied.
Only Amit remained.
The hum of the computers felt louder now.
Amit cleared his throat.
"Sir," he said hesitantly, "can I ask something?"
Varun nodded. "Ask."
Amit looked down at the floor.
"Why did you spend your own money?" he asked. "For me… for us."
Varun didn't answer immediately.
He sat on the edge of the desk, loosened his shoulders.
"I wasn't saving you," Varun said finally. "I was buying time."
Amit frowned.
"If you all had been sent out today," Varun continued, "the class would have been labelled 'undisciplined.' Tomorrow you wouldn't be allowed inside. Next week the lab would be locked again."
He looked at Amit directly.
"I wanted to keep you inside the room. That's all."
Amit swallowed.
"I know you're scared of getting beaten again," Varun said quietly.
Amit stiffened.
"But listen to me carefully," Varun continued. "Failing exams is not proof that you are useless. It's proof that the system failed to teach you."
Amit's eyes flickered.
"Your father's anger," Varun said, "is not really about you. It comes from other places."
He counted on his fingers.
"Maybe a bad colleague. Maybe a landlord who humiliates him. Maybe a client who doesn't pay on time."
Varun sighed.
"He carries all that home. And when he sees you struggling… you become the only place where he can release it."
Amit's jaw tightened.
"He doesn't want you to suffer," Varun added. "He just doesn't know how to stop his own suffering."
Silence sat between them.
Varun reached into the pile of scrap and pulled out an old motherboard.
"Take this home," he said, handing it to Amit.
Amit hesitated. "Sir… my father—"
"Tell him it's homework," Varun said simply.
He smiled slightly.
"Tonight, draw this motherboard. Just draw it. Look at every section. Try to write what you think each part does. Even if you're wrong."
Amit nodded slowly.
"This is not just for you," Varun added. "I've given the same task to the whole class."
He chuckled lightly.
"Tomorrow, we'll compare. Which parts are common. Which manufacturers are different."
Then he added, almost as an afterthought:
"And this will also give your families a chance to see that their sons are doing something real."
Amit looked at the board in his hands again.
Something in his posture straightened.
"Thank you, Sir," he said.
Varun nodded. "Go home."
Amit left.
Later that afternoon, Varun stood outside the HOD's office.
Saxena waved him in without looking up from his papers.
"Yes?" Saxena asked.
"Sir," Varun said, "the lab doesn't have much equipment. One screwdriver. Mostly scrap. It's difficult to conduct practicals properly."
Saxena chuckled.
"That was your skill test," he said casually. "You're doing fine."
Varun waited.
"You fixed some computers," Saxena continued. "Good. Keep doing that."
No discussion.No plan.No resources.
Just approval.
Varun nodded. "Understood, Sir."
He stepped out.
As he walked down the corridor, the realization settled in fully.
The tea had worked.The noise had stopped.The system was comfortable again.
And once comfortable—
It slept.
Varun exhaled.
Good, he thought.Sleeping systems are easier to work around.