Kairav's POV
I don't want to be here.
I really don't fucking want to be here.
If it wasn't for the fact that this stupid final year event somehow decides our future, I would've walked out the second I was called in. I've dealt with enough things I don't care about, but this… this is something else. Sitting in the principal's office, listening to words that don't even register, pretending like I'm part of this conversation when I'm not even trying to be.
And the worst part?
He's sitting right in front of me.
Ishaan Sehgal.
Of all the people they could've put me with, it had to be him. He looks exactly the same. Calm. Composed. Like nothing ever touches him. Like this is just another normal day for him, another responsibility he'll handle perfectly, another situation he'll walk out of without a single crack showing. Like the perfect class president and school ambassador he is.
I don't get how he does that.
Or maybe I do, and that's exactly why it pisses me off..
The principal is saying something about coordination, responsibilities, deadlines… I don't know. I'm not listening. I can't. My eyes keep drifting back to him without my permission, like I've got no control over it, and every time I look, he's either focused on the papers in front of him or just… sitting there, unaffected.
Like I'm not even here.
I shift in my seat my fingers tapping against my knee just to get rid of the restless energy building inside me. This is temporary. Just a few weeks. Get through it, do what needs to be done, and I'm done. I don't have to deal with him after that. Easy.
"Kairav."
Someone called my name but I was too endorsed in my thoughts to pay attention.
"Kairav."
The second time, it's sharper, enough to pull me back. I look up at the principal, forcing my expression into something neutral.
"You're okay with this, right?" he asks, pushing a stack of papers towards me.
"You'll work together and make sure everything runs smoothly."
I don't even look at the papers and give him a nod. Because saying anything more would mean I actually care enough to respond. And I don't.
I reach forward and pick up the file, flipping it slightly in my hand without reading a single word. I already know I'm stuck with this. No point pretending I have a choice.
"Good," the principal says, sounding satisfied. "I expect both of you to handle this responsibly."
Both of you.
Yeah. That sounds like a bad joke.
I'm already done here. There's nothing more to say, nothing more I want to hear. I'm about to get up, already halfway out of this place in my head, when his voice cuts in..
"Lets just hope he doesn't back out at the last moment."
For a second, I think I heard that wrong.
But when I look up, he's looking straight at me. And there's the smallest hint of a smile on his face.
Still so proud of himself.
I let out a short breath, something between a laugh and disbelief, shaking my head slightly before meeting his eyes properly. "I'm not someone who disappears at the last moment," I say, my voice coming out sharper than I intended. "I know how to show up when people need me."
The words hang there. I know they were pointed. They were too loaded. But I don't take them back.
For a moment, he just looks at me, like he's trying to read something I don't want him to see. And then that same small smile appears again, softer this time, like he got the reaction he wanted.
It's frustrating! More than it should be.
"Right," he says, like that settles it.
I don't wait for anything else. I'm done sitting here, done pretending this is normal. "If that's all, I'll take my leave," I say, already getting up before anyone can respond.
The chair scrapes lightly against the floor as I push it back. I grab the papers without looking at either of them again and walk out, not bothering to close the door quietly behind me.
Ishaan's POV
The door shuts behind him, and for a moment everything goes silent.
I'm still staring at the same place where Kairav was sitting just a few seconds ago, like something might change if I give it a moment. It doesn't. The chair is empty now, pushed back carelessly, like he couldn't get out of here fast enough.
He still blames me.
It's not even a question anymore. It's there in the way he talks, the way he looks at me, like everything that went wrong somehow leads back to me. And the worst part is… I don't even know how to argue with that. Because no matter how many times I go over it in my head, no matter how much I try to shift things around, it always comes back to the same place.
I could've done something differently.
I should have.
My fingers curl slightly against the edge of the table, the papers in front of me blurring for a second before I force myself to focus. This isn't the time. I'm not doing this here, not in this room, not over something that's already done and buried.
A hand lands on my shoulder, light but enough to pull me out of it.
"I know you can do this, Ishaan," the principal says, his voice steady, certain in a way I don't feel right now. "You've handled bigger things. This won't be a problem for you."
I nod, because that's what I always do.
Because to him, to everyone, this is simple. Just another responsibility. Just another task I'll take care of like I always have.
There's no hesitation in his tone, no doubt, like the outcome is already decided.
He gives my shoulder a small pat before walking out, the door closing behind him with a soft click. And just like that, I'm alone.
For a moment, I don't move. I just sit there, staring at the papers in front of me without actually seeing them, Mr. Gupta's words echoing in my head.
"I know you can do this."
Can I?
It's a stupid question. Of course I can. It's just an event. A few weeks of planning, coordination, making sure everything runs smoothly. I've done this before. I've handled worse than this. This is nothing compared to everything that actually matters.
My career depends on this. My future depends on this.
So yes, I can do it. I have to.
Then why does it feel like this is going to be harder than anything else?
I let out a slow breath, leaning back slightly, my gaze drifting to the door without meaning to. He's gone. That should make it easier. There's distance again, space, something I can work with.
But all I can think about is the way he looked at me.
There was so much in it. Anger, yes, but not just that. Something sharper, something that felt like it had been sitting there for a long time, waiting. Like he wanted anwers. But didn't want to ask the questions himself.
My grip tightens on the papers without me realizing it.
I saw pure hate in those eyes. Those same eyes which—
I stop myself.
I don't let the thought go any further. I can't. I already know where it leads, and I don't have the energy to go back there again. Not now. Not when I finally have things under control.
I close my eyes for a second, steadying my breathing before opening them again.
It doesn't matter. He doesn't matter.
This is just work. That's all it is. Once it's done, the semester ends, and everything falls back into place. We go our separate ways. We don't have to deal with each other again..
No more conversations. No more tension.
No more… this... Whatever this is.
I look down at the papers again, forcing myself to actually read the first line this time, to focus on something real, something I can control.
Just get through this. That's all I have to do.
Just this one last thing. And then he won't matter anymore.
Right...?
I push the thought away before it settles any deeper.
There's no point. Thinking about it won't change anything, and I don't have the space for it right now. I've spent enough time going in circles over things I can't undo.
So I force my mind to quiet down, pick up the papers, and stand up.
The chair scrapes lightly against the floor as I push it back, the sound oddly loud in the empty room. And I walk to the door and open it when suddenly my gaze catches his face. He's still here.
Leaning against the wall like he's been waiting, head slightly tilted down, like he doesn't care about anything around him. For a split second, I think maybe he hasn't noticed me yet.
Then his eyes lift straight to me and strangely... I don't know exactly how but .. everything shifts..
He pushes himself off the wall almost immediately, and starts walking towards me. There's something in the way he walks toward me, not rushed, not slow either, just… certain, that makes it hard to move.
I don't step back but I don't say anything. I just stand there, watching him come closer, my grip tightening slightly around the papers without me realizing it.
And then suddenly, I'm pressed back against the wall.
The impact isn't hard, but it's enough to catch me off guard, enough to make my breath hitch for a second. He's right there, too close, closer than he has any right to be, one hand braced against the wall beside me, the other just barely brushing my arm like he doesn't even notice it's there.
I don't know what to do.
I don't even understand what's happening.
All I can hear is my heartbeat, loud and uneven, like it's trying to break out of my chest, and it doesn't make sense because this shouldn't affect me like this. Not anymore. Not after everything.
But it does. It really does and I hate it.
He's looking at me in a way that feels too direct, too much, like he's trying to get something out of me without saying it.
"So," he says, his voice low, steady, like none of this is strange to him at all, "you really said yes."
There's something in the way he says it that makes it sound like he didn't expect it.
"I didn't think you would," he adds, a faint edge slipping into his tone. "Mr. President."
I swallow, forcing myself to hold his gaze even when it feels like I shouldn't.
"Why?" I ask, my voice coming out quieter than I intended, but still steady. "Are you scared of working with me?"
I wait for a second but there is no reaction. So, I push further.
"You still have time," I continue, even though my heart is still beating too fast... even though everything about this feels off.
"You can back off right now."
The words hang there between us.
He doesn't move. He just looks at me.
And there's something in his eyes again, something unreadable, something that makes it hard to breathe properly, like I've said more than I should have.
For a moment, I think he's going to say something else, something worse, something that will make this even harder.
But surprisingly, he doesn't. Instead, he pulls back.
The space between us returns so suddenly it feels strange, like something was ripped off of me. He takes a few steps back, running a hand through his hair before looking at me again, a small, almost amused smile touching his lips.
"We'll see who backs off," he says, his voice lighter now, but it doesn't feel any less serious, "Mr. President."
I don't respond because this time I really can't.
He watches me for a second longer before letting out a quiet breath.
"Fine," he adds after a moment, shrugging slightly. "Let's just start working on our little event."
And just like that, he turns and walks away leaving me standing there, still against the wall, still trying to catch my breath, still trying to understand what just happened.
My mind is full.
And somehow… completely blank at the same time.
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