When Arjun stepped out of the bathroom, he almost walked into her. Anaya was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at him. For a second he froze. He realized he was still in just a towel. Heat rushed to his face. He ducked back into the bathroom without a word, because she had already seen more than she should—his scars, the cuts on his back, the marks that never fully healed.
He stayed inside a while, keeping quiet. No one called from outside, so finally he slipped on a bathrobe and opened the door. The room was empty. Anaya was gone.
He stood for a moment, thinking. When he left all those years ago she had been a bright little girl of ten, only eyes for her brother. Now she was different. Taller. Quiet. He wasn't sure he could ever understand her. He pushed the thought away and got ready. There was work to do.
Downstairs the whole family waited at the dining table. Arjun slipped into his seat. Anaya sat across the table, but she kept staring at him. He raised an eyebrow and tried to catch her eye. She looked down and started eating.
"Good morning, Arjun" Harish said, sitting beside him with a gentle smile.
"Good morning," Meera replied. "You slept well?"
"A little late today," Arjun said. "But I'm fine."
After breakfast, Harish turned on the TV. The news played—something about gang violence in the city, many dead. Harish frowned. "What is happening to this city? When will this stop?"
"Everything ends in its time," Arjun said softly, getting up. "I'm going out for a bit."
"Take the driver and security," Meera warned. "We don't want you out alone."
Harish spoke up quickly. "Why security? Where are you headed?"
"I just want to learn to drive the new car," Arjun said, trying to keep it light. "It's a gift from my father, after all."
Before the discussion could go on, a man entered the house and saluted Harish. "Come meet Vishwas," Harish said. "He used to be in the military and runs his own security firm. From today, he will be responsible for Arjun's safety."
Vishwas was broad-shouldered and solid about forty-five, with the look of a man who had done hard work all his life. He was polite, firm. When he bowed and said, "Sir, I will protect him with my life," Harish relaxed a little.
"I know you won't like this, son," Harish told Arjun. "But I don't want to lose you again."
Arjun didn't argue much. He shook Vishwas's hand and felt the man's steady strength.
Outside waited the Audi E-Tron GT—the sleek electric car Harish had given him. Arjun handed the keys to Vishwas and climbed into the passenger seat. Vishwas took the driver's place.
"Where to go, sir
"Please don't call me sir," Arjun said, smiling a little. "Call me Arjun. and I'll Call you Vishwas.Will that be fine."
"Sure, Arjun" Vishwas said. "Where to first?"
"St. Xavier's College," Arjun answered. "I want to check the library."
Vishwas nodded. "Your safety is my job, boss."
The college grounds were quiet; it was almost eleven and most students were in class. Arjun finished quick business at the library. Just as he was getting back into the car, he caught a familiar pair of eyes watching him. It was Anaya, she had been standing near the campus gate. When their gazes met she quickly turned away and walked toward another building. Arjun touched his face and felt the old confusion again.
Vishwas started the car and they spent the day driving around Mumbai. By evening they were back at the house. Harish had come home early. Everyone gathered in the living room, drinking tea.
"How was the day?" Harish asked.
"It was good," Arjun answered and smiled.
Vishwas, seated nearby, said, "No problems, sir. Arjun is quiet—he speaks little but is calm."
"Maybe we needed him eight years ago," someone joked, and a small laugh followed. The mood eased. Harish handed Arjun Vishwas's card. "If you ever need help at night, call him."
Arjun kept the card in his pocket and went upstairs to his room. He changed into fresh clothes. For a moment he forgot to shut the door behind him. He had already taken off his shirt when Anaya pushed the door open and stood there.
She didn't knock. She didn't smile. She just looked at him, arms folded, eyes sharp.
"You came to my college," she said flatly.
"I did. I didn't know it was yours," Arjun answered, trying to keep his tone calm.
"So why were you there?" she asked.
"You'll know soon," he said, but she only scoffed.
"Don't expect me to believe you," she said. "Ever since you came back, it's been lie after lie. You said you were in the Himalaya meditating for years. You said you lost your memory. I don't buy it. A brother who truly loves his doll would never forget. If anything happened, he would come. You didn't come."
Her words came out fast, all the anger and the years of waiting packed in them. She folded herself into a corner of the doorway and suddenly she was the little girl, voice breaking as she said, "I waited every day. I watched the road. I thought you left because of me. When I was sick I called your name. When nightmares came, I said your name. Where were you? Why didn't you come to me?"
Arjun saw it all in her face—hurt, loneliness, the bright child who had once followed him everywhere. He went down on his knees before her, put a hand on her head, and tried to steady his voice.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I am guilty, doll. I can't tell you everything, but believe me—I never stopped wanting to be with you. Not for a moment."
She looked up, eyes wet. "Then why didn't you come back?"
Arjun's mouth trembled. He could not find the right words. His tongue failed him. She reached out and took his face in her hand, looking straight into his eyes.
"Why didn't you come back?" she asked again.
Because I wasn't on Earth, he wanted to say. Because I wasn't anywhere you could find. But the words stuck in his throat.
Before he could answer, she pushed his face away and whispered, "Because you weren't on Earth."
The sentence landed like a stone. Arjun's hands shook. He felt colors go dim around the edges.
"You weren't on Earth," she repeated, voice low, almost afraid. "Then where were y—"
Arjun replies in deep voice "Gurukul".