The pathology professor droned on, his enthusiasm in teaching just about equal to, or perhaps even less than, the students' enthusiasm in listening. His voice had that particular monotonous tilt-the kind that could put you at grave risk if you hadn't managed a good eight to nine hours of sleep the night before. Which, let's be honest, no one in medicine ever really does.
He was reading straight off his PowerPoint slides-because of course, that's what explaining means. Most of the students were halfway to unconsciousness. The professor didn't seem to care in the slightest.
"...The growth of a neoplasm is uncoordinated with that of the normal surrounding tissues..."
Aarav sat stiffly in his seat, his pen unmoving. Normally, he occupied one of the front rows-his natural habitat as a top scorer-but this lecture was so mind-numbingly dull that even he couldn't bring himself to pretend he cared. Usually, he'd at least scribble the keywords from the professor's slides, but today his page was blank. The pen wasn't even uncapped.
He wasn't seeing slides about tumors-his mind was fixated on the walking, talking tumor in his life. That infuriating, stupidly handsome, giant of a problem of a first-year.
"I'll be on my way... sir."
The audacity. The sheer, unmitigated gall. The words replayed on a loop in his head, every repetition scraping against his nerves until his grip on the pen went white-knuckled.
He was seated between Nalini and Karan. He could feel Nalini glance over once or twice. He didn't care.
Nalini, who was sitting to his right, wasn't looking at the slides either. Her expression was lightly amused as she stole another glance at the furious boy beside her. Finally, curiosity got the better of her. Besides, the professor didn't give a single damn if students talked. She leaned back slightly, catching Karan's attention behind Aarav's back. Their eyes met; she raised a brow, silently gesturing toward Aarav. The question was clear as day.
"What's up with him?" she murmured under her breath. "He's been radiating pure fury since morning. He didn't even make a single comment about us dwarfing him the whole way here. That's like-our morning ritual. Him being offended that we're not vertically challenged. But today he was quiet the whole time-it's unsettling."
Karan, who had been trying and failing to pay attention to the lecture, perked up immediately, lips curling into a thoroughly entertained smirk.
"Our little friend here," he began, dropping his voice into a conspiratorial whisper, "had a little run-in with-" he leaned forward, eyes gleaming mischievously, "-the giant."
Nalini blinked, puzzled. She'd been briefed about the twisted-ankle incident in passing, but she didn't know the details.
Karan, pleased to be the bearer of gossip, continued dramatically, "The first-year he bumped into. Our boy, being the vindictive vigilante he is, decided the high road was overrated. So he tracked the kid down to teach him a lesson. For-" he pressed a hand to his chest with mock sincerity, mimicking Aarav's self-righteous tone-"for the world. The greater good. For the hierarchy."
Aarav's shoulders visibly tensed. He could clearly hear every word of their conversation, but he refused to turn around. He had bigger things to be pissed about. Like Nikhil.
"And he's pissed because...?" Nalini asked, her curiosity piqued. Clearly, Aarav had found the first-year, given him his scolding, maybe even yelled his lungs out. "Didn't he tear the poor boy a new one?"
"That's the thing!" Karan whispered excitedly, barely containing his amusement. "The giant-as our little revenge angel calls him-wasn't even sorry. Or scared. Like, at all. He showed up again today, not to apologise, but to introduce himself. Told Aarav he'll be looking forward to his response."
Nalini's eyebrows shot up. She glanced from Karan's gleeful expression to Aarav's rigid back. Even she hadn't expected that twist.
"He really said that? To Aarav? A first-year said that to a senior?"
Karan nodded, eyes bright with mischief. "Word for word."
Now, neither Karan nor Nalini were exactly strict upholders of hierarchy or ragging culture-but still, a first-year talking back like that was unheard of. Even the cockiest ones usually acted half-sorry. After all, it was the seniors who shared exam-marking tips, told you what topics actually mattered. Without a decent rapport with a few seniors, your academics were basically doomed. Medicine was too vast-you had to be selective, and seniors taught you how. That's why this whole hierarchy system stayed alive in the first place.
A new kind of respect flickered in Nalini's eyes-one born out of disbelief and reluctant admiration. She could almost appreciate the sheer audacity. Maybe even relate to it.
She, herself, had unintentionally bypassed the ragging system through a mix of quiet confidence and resting bitch face. Tall, with angular features and an expression that perpetually said don't even think about it, she often got mistaken for a senior. The second-years-the main culprits behind ragging-had just... never bothered her. She hadn't done it on purpose; she simply assumed ragging didn't happen much among girls.
"Well," she said, leaning back with a smirk. "You could almost admire the gall."
Karan grinned, nodding in agreement. The two exchanged a look of mutual amusement before turning back toward Aarav-who was glaring at the projector screen with enough intensity to make one believe the tumor slide had personally offended him.
The professor's voice droned on, completely indifferent to the mini soap opera unfolding in the middle rows. His tone didn't change, his expression didn't flicker. Somewhere between "neoplasm" and "uncontrolled proliferation," he probably achieved the rare state of academic nirvana- teaching without teaching, speaking without saying anything at all.
Karan stifled a laugh. Nalini smirked behind her notebook. Aarav continued to simmer in silence. And the professor , blissfully unaware, clicked on to the next slide.