Later that evening, the campus had begun to thin out. The setting sun painted the skies in mellow hues of orange and violet, and the warm breeze stirred the last fallen leaves across the cobbled parking lot.
Pragathi and Kiran strolled side by side through the crowd of dispersing students, their laughter rising and falling like waves—soft, teasing, unhurried.
"Admit it," Kiran was saying, waving his hand animatedly, "you lost because I was too distracting."
Pragathi snorted. "I lost because you kept elbowing me during the race."
"I was creating a romantic distraction strategy."
"You were creating chaos."
"Same difference."
Pragathi rolled her eyes, but a smile clung to her lips.
That was when Arjun's voice cut through the air, slightly breathless but steady. "Hey! Where's Shruti?"
He jogged up to them, slipping his phone into his back pocket, eyes scanning the thinning crowd behind them.
Pragathi turned, her playful expression softening. "She left a bit earlier. Said she'd wait for you near your bike."
Arjun nodded. "Alright. Thanks."
But his feet didn't move. Not right away.
He looked at her again, this time more closely. "Was she okay?"
Pragathi hesitated for just a second—barely long enough for most to notice, but Arjun caught it. Her brows pulled slightly together, her lips pressing into a thoughtful line.
"She wasn't upset," Pragathi said carefully. "Just... quieter than usual."
"She didn't look sad?"
"No. But… something was off. You know how she normally waves back or cracks a joke when I tease her?" Pragathi's voice turned a little softer. "Today she didn't. Just smiled a little. Said goodbye. That's it."
Kiran, now quiet, added, "Didn't even steal my chips during break. I should've known something was wrong."
Arjun's jaw tightened slightly.
She hadn't texted him anything. No call. No update. Just a quiet goodbye and slipping away?
That wasn't like Shruti.
Not the Shruti who'd been slowly opening up. Not the one who'd spent the night before giggling over game instructions and elbowing him with mock insults.
His heart picked up a beat.
"Thanks," he said, voice low, nodding again.
And then he turned and walked quickly—almost breaking into a jog—as he made his way to the parking lot.
The echo of his footsteps faded into the breeze.
Behind him, Kiran looked at Pragathi. "He felt that shift without even seeing her."
Pragathi smiled faintly, watching Arjun's silhouette disappear around the corner.
"He always does," she murmured.
---
She was already standing near his bike, right under the tamarind tree by the gate, where shadows stretched long and thin across the pavement. Her hands were tucked into the sleeves of her kurti, fingers hidden like she was trying to hold herself together. A soft breeze tugged gently at her hair, making the ends dance across her cheek.
The moment her eyes found Arjun's, she smiled.
But it didn't reach her eyes.
He felt it before he could even name it—like a familiar song playing in the wrong key.
He slowed down as he reached her, the usual greeting caught in his throat. Instead, he asked quietly, "You okay?"
"I'm fine," she said too quickly, her gaze flickering away. "Just… tired."
"Tired?" he echoed, not convinced. "Was it a long day or… something happened?"
She paused, then gave a practiced shrug. "Just classes. Same old."
Her voice was neutral, her posture a little too straight. Her arms stayed crossed, and she kept brushing her hair behind her ear even though the breeze had stilled.
"Shruti…" Arjun said, his voice softer now.
She turned toward him and smiled again—more gently this time, but still guarded. "Can we just go home?"
There was no bite in her tone. Just a quiet plea. One that said not now.
Arjun hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Okay."
He handed her the helmet, watching as she fastened it in silence. But even as he climbed onto the bike, he didn't start the engine right away. His hand hovered over the key.
She climbed on behind him, her hands settling lightly at the sides of his jacket—less secure than usual, more polite. The absence of warmth there stung in a way he hadn't expected.
He glanced once more over his shoulder. "You sure you're okay?"
"I'm sure," she said, softer now.
But her eyes… they stayed on the road ahead, not him.
Arjun didn't reply. He started the engine, but his chest felt heavier than it should've.
They rode in silence, the wind brushing past their faces, but it didn't carry the usual peace between them. There was no quiet giggle in his ear. No teasing nudge. Just the low hum of the engine and the loud thrum of things unspoken.
Arjun watched her in the mirror. Her eyes were open, but far. Like she was seeing everything except what was in front of her.
Then, without warning, he took a sudden left.
Shruti straightened a little, surprised. "Wait—this isn't the way."
"I know," he said, voice calm but sure.
She shifted behind him, eyebrows narrowing slightly beneath the helmet. "Then where are we going?"
"You'll see," he replied simply.
Her arms finally gripped his sides properly as she braced herself. "Arjun…"
"I'm not kidnapping you, Shruti. Relax," he said, with a small smile.
But she didn't respond.
She just leaned back ever so slightly and rested her chin briefly on his shoulder. Just for a second. As if to ask, Where are you taking me? And why does it feel like you already know what I'm not saying?
And he didn't answer out loud.
But his hands tightened a little on the handlebars.
Because he could feel it in his gut—whatever was bothering her wasn't small.
And if she wouldn't talk about it, he'd find another way to bring her back to him.
Even if it meant taking a long turn home.
To be continued...