After the selfie, the magnetic pull of Yuvaan's presence only intensified. Kiara's friends, now a giggling, star-struck entourage, swarmed around him.
"You have to come to the cafeteria with us!" Anya pleaded, her voice brimming with excitement. "We'll get juice! Our treat!"
Trapped by social obligation and Anya's iron grip on her arm, Kiara was forced to follow the procession toward the college cafeteria. Leaning close to Anya, she hissed, "Why are you acting like you've never seen a handsome boy before? Get a grip!"
Before Anya could retort, Yuvaan, who had effortlessly overheard, fell into step beside them.
"That's because she hasn't," he said, his voice a low, confident hum meant for Kiara alone. His cat-like eyes glinted with amusement. "She hasn't met anyone like me. I'm one of a kind."
Kiara responded with a feigned, tight-lipped smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Once they reached a table in the bustling cafeteria, Yuvaan turned the full force of his attention back to Kiara. He extended his hand across the table, a gesture that was both polite and profoundly challenging.
"Let's start over, shall we? Hi, I'm Yuvaan Pratap Singh," he announced, his voice carrying just enough to make her friends sigh. "And I'm ready to embrace your friendship."
The table fell silent, all eyes on Kiara. Her friends nudged her, their expressions urging her to be nice.
Slowly, Kiara reached out and took his hand. His grip was firm, his skin surprisingly cool against hers.
"Hi," she said, her voice sweet but her eyes sharp as daggers. "I'm Kiara Shetty. And just so you know, no one can steal my spotlight." It was a warning, a declaration of war wrapped in a polite introduction.
As everyone finally sat, the chatter resumed. In the cover of the noise, Yuvaan leaned toward Kiara, his whisper a soft, intimate caress that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.
"What was it you said yesterday?" he murmured, his breath ghosting her ear. "That boys swarm after you? That you get multiple comments and friend requests?" He leaned back, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips as he gestured subtly to the adoring circle around them. "Well, looks like I'm no different."
Kiara's eyes narrowed. She leaned in close, her own whisper a blade of suspicion. "Did you intentionally come to my college just to prove this point?"
Yuvaan met her gaze, his expression unreadable, a master of the game.
"Maybe," he whispered back, the word a tantalizing mystery. "Maybe not."
The first move in their very public, very private battle was complete. The lines were drawn, and the cafeteria had become their new battlefield.
---
"Brother, we must go," Angad's voice cut through the cafeteria chatter, a welcome respite from the adoration. "The principal's office awaits. First-day formalities."
Yuvaan gave a graceful, theatrical sigh, unfolding himself from his chair with an unhurried elegance that made the simple act seem like a performance. "Alas, duty calls," he announced to the table of mesmerized girls. He offered a charming, general smile before his eyes briefly found Kiara's. He gave a slight, mocking nod. "Try not to miss me too much," he murmured, his voice a velvet whisper meant only for her.
He turned and walked away with Angad. Kiara waited until his back was fully turned before she scoffed.
"So pretentious," she muttered to Anya, stabbing her straw into her juice box. "Every single move is calculated."
---
In the bustling corridor, Angad shook his head in amazement. "Wow, brother. You've made quite an impression back there."
A smirk played on Yuvaan's lips. "It's a gift, and a curse."
Distracted, Angad looked back toward the cafeteria, and in doing so, bumped squarely into a girl, sending her armful of books scattering across the polished floor.
"Oh! I'm so, so sorry!" Angad exclaimed, his face flushing as he immediately dropped to his knees to help.
The girl knelt with him. She was strikingly beautiful, with large, dark eyes and a soft, alluring smile. "It's quite alright," she said, her voice a melodious hum. "Accidents happen."
As their hands brushed while gathering the books, a faint, sickly-sweet scent, like rotting roses wrapped in perfume, hit Yuvaan's senses. It was a scent he knew all too well.
The girl looked up at Angad, her gaze lingering just a moment too long. "Thank you for your help," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.
Her eyes then flicked to Yuvaan, cold and assessing for a fleeting second before she demurely looked down, collected her books, and walked away.
The moment she was out of earshot, Yuvaan tapped Angad's shoulder, his expression grim. "Stay away from that girl."
Angad turned, a playful, incredulous smile on his face. "Why, brother? Are you jealous?" He chuckled, nudging Yuvaan. "Come on, girls have been swarming you since you got here. Let me get a little attention."
Yuvaan stopped walking and placed a firm hand on Angad's shoulder, his tone losing all its prior amusement. "Do you remember how we were told as kids to stop eating sweets at night because they were harmful?"
Angad frowned, confused by the sudden shift. "Yeah… of course. What does that have to do with anything?"
"Similarly," Yuvaan said, his voice low and intent, "you should stay away from this girl. She is harmful." He didn't wait for a reply, pulling Angad along with him. "Let's go."
The girl, now turning a corner, glanced back one last time. Deep within her pupils, a flicker of hellish red glowed for an instant before vanishing. She was a Daayan.
---
They reached the principal's office and were ushered in. Vikram Shetty sat behind his large mahogany desk, the very picture of academic authority.
"Ah, you must be our new transfer, Yuvaan Pratap Singh," Vikram said, looking up from a file. He nodded at the other boy. "And Angad, good to see you here as well. We just need to complete some paperwork and discuss your chosen subjects."
"Of course, Principal Sir," Yuvaan replied, his voice the model of polite deference.
Throughout the exchange, Yuvaan was the picture of polished courtesy—on the surface. He answered questions succinctly, signed where required, but his posture was one of relaxed ownership, as if he were the one granting an audience. His 'swag', as Kiara had called it, was an undeniable aura of power that seemed to suck the air from the room.
Vikram, a man trained to read people and sense the auras of both man and monster, felt an immediate, jarring dissonance. On one level, he sensed the young man's human vitality—sharp, intelligent, and undeniably present. But layered over it, like a slick of oil on water, was something else. An unexplained aura, cold and profound, that defied his comprehension. It wasn't malevolent in a way he could pinpoint, but it was ancient and vast, like staring into a deep, still abyss. It was an aura that should not—could not—belong to a mere college student.
"Everything seems to be in order, Mr. Singh," Vikram said, closing the file and maintaining his professional composure, though his instincts were screaming in alarm. "Welcome to the college. I trust you will find your time here… enlightening."
Yuvaan met his gaze, a slow, knowing smile gracing his lips, as if he could see right through Vikram's calm exterior and directly into his swirling suspicions.
"I'm certain I will, Principal Sir," Yuvaan replied, his voice smooth as silk. "I have a feeling it will be a very memorable experience for everyone."