*Setting: Afternoon, cleaning the classroom**
While cleaning, Neer spoke softly, eyes fixed on the floor:
"Tell me, was my answer wrong? Shouldn't a person consider others' feelings?"
Agni remained silent, his eyes locked on Neer's face, as if answering with his gaze.
**Neer (with a tired smile):**
"Fine, the classroom's clean. I'm going to rest."
As Neer turned to leave, Agni stepped forward to say something, but Neer suddenly turned
back, grabbing Agni's hand.
**Neer:**
"Wait!"
Their eyes met—Agni's steady, Neer's stormy. Time seemed to pause.
**Neer (with pain and a hint of sarcasm):**
"You think you're so great, don't you? Was my answer so wrong that I was punished? You're just
the guru's favorite, treating their words like sacred verses. Have you ever understood anyone's
emotions? Do you even have a heart? Do you ever smile or laugh? No, because you're made of
rules, not feelings."
He released Agni's hand. Agni stared, wanting to speak but unable to find words.
**Neer (turning away):**
"Fine, go."
Neer stormed off. Agni watched him leave, a silent ache in his eyes, an unspoken bond he
couldn't yet understand. He then walked to his chamber.
Agni stood alone in the silent, freshly cleaned classroom, the ghost of Neer's grip still burning on his wrist. The accusations echoed in the stillness, each one striking a chord he didn't know he possessed.
He watched the empty doorway, a tumult of unfamiliar emotions warring with his rigid discipline. A single, traitorous thought broke through his defenses, as sharp and painful as Neer's words had been:
What if Neer was right? What if, in his devotion to duty, he had forgotten how to feel? And why did the thought of Neer's pain feel like a greater failure than any broken rule?