They started walking toward the far side of the community where Arjun had apparently kept Mani's wife and kittens.
According to him, it would take twenty minutes.
It took nearly forty.
Because Arjun stopped every few steps to talk to someone.
A security guard near the gate raised a hand immediately.
"Arjun!"
Arjun slowed.
"Anna, how's your shoulder now?"
"Better now," the man replied. "That exercise helped."
"Don't lift heavy things for another week," Arjun said easily before continuing forward again.
Three minutes later, two aunties sitting near the walking track stopped him.
One complained about her son sleeping too late.
The other asked whether the stray dog near Building C had eaten.
Arjun answered both questions seriously like community management was his full-time profession.
Zeema stood beside him quietly holding the paper bag while Ginger rested shamelessly in Arjun's arms.
Not impatient.
Just watching.
A little boy suddenly came running toward them holding a broken toy car.
"Anna! Wheel came off!"
Arjun crouched immediately.
Ginger squished slightly in his arms in visible annoyance.
"Who drove this like a criminal?"
The child pointed toward another boy nearby.
"Sengal."
"Expected," Arjun muttered.
Zeema watched silently while he fixed the loose wheel using nothing except patience and unnecessary confidence.
The little boy looked at her cautiously afterward.
Then at Ginger.
Then back at her.
"…Are you Mani's owner?"
A pause.
"No," Zeema replied calmly.
The boy thought for a second.
"Then why is he staying with you?"
Zeema looked down at Ginger.
"That is also my question."
Arjun laughed quietly beside her.
The child accepted the answer immediately and ran away.
As they continued walking, more people greeted Arjun.
College students.
Residents.
Children on bicycles.
Even the flower vendor near the entrance nodded at him casually.
At one point, a stray dog walked directly toward him and sat down expectantly.
Arjun sighed.
"You also want snacks?"
The dog wagged its tail harder.
"Unbelievable."
Without complaint, he took a small biscuit packet from his pocket, tore it open, and gave the dog one.
Zeema watched him for a second.
"You carry food for every species?"
"Experience," he replied.
"That sounds exhausting."
"It is."
But he still fed the dog.
The walk continued slowly after that.
The evening air felt cooler now.
Children shouted somewhere near the basketball court.
Pressure cooker whistles echoed faintly from nearby apartments.
Someone upstairs was loudly watching a serial with full emotional commitment.
Normal evening sounds.
Beside her, Arjun continued greeting people without hesitation.
Comfortable.
Easy.
Like he had known everyone forever.
Zeema noticed how naturally people spoke to him.
Children pulled at his sleeve without fear.
Older residents stopped him just to talk.
Even irritated people seemed calmer after speaking with him for a few minutes.
It was strange.
She wasn't used to people who moved through the world so easily.
After another unnecessary stop involving a discussion about leaking pipes, Zeema finally spoke.
"You know too many people."
Arjun looked sideways at her.
"That sounded slightly judgmental."
"It is."
He laughed softly.
"Community survival skills," he said with a small grin.
"Hm."
"You don't talk much to people, do you?"
"I talk when required."
"That sounds lonely."
Zeema looked at him briefly.
"I did not say I am suffering."
Arjun blinked once.
Then laughed again.
Not mocking.
Just surprised.
Ahead of them, Ginger suddenly meowed loudly from Arjun's arms.
Demanding attention despite being carried like royalty already.
Arjun looked down.
"You abandoned your wife and children for two days. At least behave with shame."
Another meow followed immediately.
"No guilt," Arjun muttered.
Zeema watched the cat for a second.
"He lacks survival instincts."
"He lacks morality."
For the first time that evening, the corner of Zeema's mouth moved slightly.
Small.
Quick.
But there.
Arjun noticed.
And for some reason—
that tiny expression affected him more than it should have.
A few more minutes later, they finally turned toward a quieter pathway near the back garden area.
Large bushes surrounded one side of the space while an old bench sat beneath a tree nearby.
Arjun adjusted Ginger slightly in his arms.
"We're here," he said.
Near the bushes, a black-and-white cat immediately lifted her head alertly.
Sharp eyes.
Protective posture.
But the moment she noticed Ginger—
her expression visibly changed.
Offended.
Deeply offended.
"Ah," Arjun murmured.
"The wife is angry."
The cat let out one furious meow.
Ginger looked away shamelessly.
Coward.
Near her stomach, three tiny kittens were curled together inside an old towel-lined box.
So small they barely looked real.
Tiny ears.
Tiny paws.
Eyes still closed.
Sleeping against their mother peacefully.
For one brief moment—
Zeema completely stopped moving.
Arjun noticed immediately.
"She's Candy," he said softly, pointing toward the black-and-white cat.
Then toward the kittens.
"The orange one is Sugar."
A tiny light-orange kitten twitched slightly in sleep.
"The black-and-white one is Salt."
That kitten had a small orange patch near one eye.
"And that troublemaker is Pepper."
The final kitten was a mix of orange, white, and black fur tangled together unevenly.
The smallest of the three.
Zeema stared quietly at the box.
Then at the open surroundings nearby.
The road.
The bushes.
The stray dogs that could easily wander in.
Her brows pulled together slightly.
"They stay here?"
Arjun nodded.
"I check on them regularly."
"It is unsafe."
"There wasn't a better place nearby," he admitted.
Zeema crouched down slowly a small distance away from Candy.
Careful.
Measured.
Candy watched her suspiciously but didn't move.
"The kittens are too small," Zeema said after a moment.
"They haven't even opened their eyes yet."
Arjun looked at her quietly.
There was no coldness in her expression now.
Only concern she clearly wasn't trying to show openly.
After a few seconds, Zeema spoke again.
"If necessary…"
She paused briefly like she disliked saying the sentence aloud.
"They can stay in my apartment temporarily."
Arjun blinked once.
Zeema kept her eyes on the kittens instead of him.
"Until they grow a little."
Candy continued staring at Zeema carefully.
Then slowly lowered her head back beside the kittens.
Still alert.
But calmer now.
Arjun looked between the cat and Zeema.
Then suddenly laughed softly under his breath.
"What?"
"You got approved unusually fast."
Zeema finally looked at him.
"I was evaluated?"
"Strictly."
A tiny orange paw suddenly stretched outward from the towel.
Pepper.
Even asleep, causing problems somehow.
For the first time since arriving there, Zeema's expression softened completely.
Small.
Quiet.
Unintentional.
And watching her crouched there carefully observing three half-asleep kittens—
Arjun realized something dangerous.
He liked looking at her far more than he should.