Ever since Ayan's transfer news, the campus had turned into a hive of whispers. The junior wing thrived on gossip, and now Ayan's name was everywhere. His family's power had always fascinated students, but lately the rumors cut deeper.
"Ayan loves a boy."
The words spread like fire—half curiosity, half ridicule.
That afternoon, the cafeteria hummed with a strange tension. Conversations dipped into quiet snickers, eyes flicking with knowing glances.
Abhi and Vihan walked in together. The room noticed. Always did.
The laughter—low, mocking—that made them stop.
A group of boys leaned close, smirks sharp.
"Can you believe it? Ayan—of all people—chasing after a boy. Guess power and money don't buy normalcy."
Abhi's jaw tightened, knuckles curling. Vihan's soft gaze sharpened to steel. The noise of the cafeteria dulled.
Then the final strike—
"And Arun? Wouldn't be surprised if he's the same."
Something snapped.
Abhi was on them in a flash. His fist cracked against the speaker's jaw, the sound slicing through the silence. Gasps shot across the room. The boy reeled back, chair screeching.
Another hit. Then another. Abhi's fury was relentless—each punch a brutal rhythm.
A second boy panicked, swung wildly. Mistake. Abhi dodged, fluid and lethal. His counter was merciless—a kick to the gut that sent the boy sprawling, chairs clattering in his wake.
Vihan didn't move to stop him. Arms crossed, a faint smirk on his lips, he simply watched. Abhi in his element was always a sight.
The cafeteria froze. No chatter, no laughter—only wide eyes and held breaths. This wasn't a fight. It was a warning.
At the back, Dino stood rooted, heart thundering. His gaze flicked from the groaning boys to Abhi's heaving chest. Then instinct took over. He spun and bolted toward the senior wing.
Only senior Aarav could stop him.
...
[ Senior wing ]
The senior wing buzzed with low conversations—syllabus, exams, exhaustion. Aarav and Karan sat among their friends, half-listening, when hurried footsteps broke the lull.
Dino burst in, breathless. "Senior Aarav… Abhi. He's fighting in the cafeteria."
Their expression hardened. In an instant they were on his feet, chair scraping back. No questions, no delay. They sprinted down the hall.
At the far corner of the classroom, someone else had heard.
Arun.
He sat on the last bench, half-hidden in shadow. At Abhi's name, his body jolted. Fingers curled against the desk, heart hammering.
A fight.
He knew what that meant. Abhi wasn't just strong—he was unstoppable when anger took over. The thought of him losing control, of getting hurt, made Arun's chest clench.
He wanted to go. He needed to.
But he froze. Would Abhi even want him there? Would his presence help—or only make things worse?
His eyes flicked toward the door. The decision pressed down on him, sharp and heavy.
...
[ The cafeteria ]
The boys lay sprawled on the floor, groaning, clutching bruises. But it wasn't enough for Abhi. Rage still burned under his skin, hungry for more. His gaze swept the room, daring someone—anyone—to move.
A hand landed on his shoulder.
"Enough. Calm down." Aarav's voice was steady, unyielding.
Abhi's head snapped toward him, muscles taut, eyes blazing. A scar cut across his forehead—fresh, ignored. For a moment he resisted. Then, wordlessly, he pulled away. Not submission. Respect.
Without looking back at the fallen group, Abhi strode to the far corner of the cafeteria. Controlled steps, but the storm inside him still raged.
Aarav exhaled, casting a reproachful glance at Vihan. Vihan only shrugged, arms crossed, unreadable.
They all followed, sliding into the seat opposite Abhi. The room was hushed—overturned chairs, broken glass, blood in the air.
"Tell us what happened?" Karan said.
Abhi stared at the table, jaw tight, fists clenched. Silence.
"They were saying bad things," Vihan answered flatly. "About Ayan and Senior–Arun."
Aarav's gaze cut to Abhi. "And that was enough to start a fight? You can't control people's mouths. Beating them won't change their minds."
Abhi's eyes flared, voice low and dangerous. "They can think what they want, but they don't get to spit poison. They were fortunate it was me and not Senior Arun."
Aarav watched him carefully.
Karan rubbed his temples. They knew Abhi's temper. But this… this was different.
"Ayan and Aarav don't need our protection anymore," Karan said softly. "And you—stop pulling Arun into this before it's too late."
Vihan's tone was serious. "Yes, brother. What if Senior Arun mistakes your actions for love?"
Aarav didn't said anything just looked at Abhi.
Abhi stiffened. Fingers curled against the table. His expression steadied, as if deciding something. He drew a breath, ready to speak—whether a denial or confession, even he didn't know.
But the silence broke first.
"Senior… Arun."
Dino's voice. Hesitant, almost scared. The first-aid box in his hands slipped slightly as his gaze fixed on the doorway—where Arun stood, still and silent.
....
Abhi's breath hitched. A strange unease coiled in his chest even before he turned.
Arun stood there. Still. Expression stiff.
The room froze. Their eyes locked—silent, suffocating. At first, Arun's face was unreadable, but then the mask cracked. Hurt bled through, raw and sharp.
Abhi's chest constricted. Cold dread rushed in. He knew.
Karan and Vihan stared in shock, but for Abhi it felt like the floor had collapsed beneath him. Arun turned without a word, walking away.
Panic surged. Abhi moved instantly, chasing after him.
Vihan made to follow, but Aarav's hand caught his arm. "Some truths can't be ignored. It's time he faces his," he said, voice steady, eyes grim.
Because this wasn't about gossip anymore. It was deeper. And Abhi had to face it alone.
"Young master…"
Abhi's voice broke the silence, barely a whisper. His hand closing around Arun's wrist, trembling but firm.
Arun halted at the threshold. His heart thundered, but his gaze stayed steady, brittle. Slowly, he looked back at the grip on his wrist.
"Please let me go… before it hurts more." His words were quiet, but final.
Abhi flinched, yet held tighter, his other hand rising as if to anchor him there. "Listen, please… I only wanted to help my brother. That's why I… I just—"
Arun's lips curved, not in warmth but in defense—a thin, bitter smile.
"That's why you acted like you love…" He stopped, chuckled without humor. "Forget it. I was a fool to believe it."
Something inside Abhi tore. He had prepared to deceive. He had not prepared to feel.
Arun lifted his free hand, laying it over Abhi's with a gentleness that stung. His touch was warm, but already fading.
"Love is meant to be real and pure, not a tool for manipulation. Don't deceive anyone in its name again."
And then he pulled away. The severing was clean, merciless. Every stolen glance, every hesitant touch—shattered.
Arun walked out.
Abhi stayed rooted, silence crushing him. Around him, the cafeteria lay ghostly still.