By the time lunch ended, the heat outside had thickened into something too heavy to be just weather. It felt like the school walls were sweating. Students hurried past in loose groups, uniforms sticking to their backs, ties hanging crooked from necks. The courtyard's neem tree cast a trembling shadow that did nothing to cool the air.
Inside the corridor, Arjun moved slower than most. Every step tugged at the bruise on his ribs, but his face stayed blank. He'd learned long ago that showing pain was an invitation.
As he walked, students parted around him—not dramatically, just subtly shifting, taking half steps away, giving him just enough space to let the whispers travel.
"He actually moved on Samar…""… Did you see Samar's face?""Vale has guts or no brain.""He looked different. Like—different different."
Every few seconds, he felt eyes on his back. Not hostile. Not mocking.Curious.
He wasn't used to curiosity.
At the stairwell, Rahul leaned against the railing, gym bag slung over one shoulder. His cropped hair was still wet from earlier training, sticking down in clean lines. His hazel-brown eyes tracked Arjun's approach.
"You good?" Rahul asked.
Arjun blinked. The question was… unexpected.
"I'm fine."
Rahul's eyebrows pulled together slightly—subtle confusion. His posture straightened.
"Are you sure? Your ribs look like you swallowed a cricket bat."
Arjun gave the smallest smile. It came and went like a mistake.
"I've had worse."
Rahul's smirk softened. "You move weirdly fast for someone who looks like they're made of paper."
"I got lucky."
Rahul didn't believe that. It showed in the tilt of his head and the way his fingers tapped the railing thoughtfully.
"Have you ever trained before?"
"No."
Rahul squinted. "…You should."
Arjun's eyes fell to Rahul's hands—scarred knuckles, taped fingers. Hands that had thrown hundreds of punches. They looked nothing like Arjun's thin, pale ones.
He shook his head slightly. "I don't think it's for me."
"Or maybe," Rahul said, pushing off the railing, "it's exactly for you."
Arjun didn't know what to say to that. People didn't talk to him like this. Not with expectation. Not with belief.
Before he could respond, a soft voice cut in from behind.
"Are you okay?"
Meera.
Her long braid swung as she walked up, thick black hair tied perfectly. Her big brown eyes searched his face with uncomfortable accuracy. She held her notebooks tight to her chest—fingers white at the knuckles.
"You're hurt," she said. "You didn't go to the nurse properly."
"I'm fine," Arjun repeated, gentler.
She didn't look convinced. Her eyes dipped to the way he unconsciously protected his ribs with his elbow. Then back to his face.
"Your eyes…" she whispered.
Arjun stiffened. "What about them?"
She shook her head quickly. "Never mind. It's just—they look sharper today. Like you're awake."
He looked away.If she'd seen what happened in his vision…No. Impossible.
But her words made his chest tighten.
Rahul nodded toward the staircase. "If you want to try boxing, I can show you a few basics after school. No pressure."
Meera's eyes widened slightly. "Boxing? Arjun shouldn't—"
"I'll be fine," Arjun said quickly.
Meera looked between them—her anxious expression softening into something almost disappointed. She hugged her books closer.
"I'm… glad you stood up for yourself," she murmured. "But please, don't push yourself too hard."
Her voice cracked slightly when she said please.
Arjun opened his mouth—he wasn't sure what he wanted to say. Something polite? Something honest? Before either could form, a shadow slipped across the corridor.
Not from the lights.Not from a cloud.
From Samar.
He walked by with calm, silent confidence. His immaculate uniform sleeves brushed his forearms perfectly; his dark eyes scanned the hallway with quiet dominance. When they landed on Arjun, they didn't linger long—just a single cold sweep, a quick narrowing, and a flicker of interest.
Then he kept walking.
No smirk.No threat.Just… calculation.
Rahul exhaled. "Damn, he's watching you like you're homework he doesn't understand."
Meera's fingers tightened around her notebook. "This isn't good. Samar doesn't usually… focus on people."
Arjun's chest grew tight again—different from fear, more like pressure.
Samar's attention was a weight.A target.A warning.
But beneath the tension, something else flickered—just a small stretch of clarity behind Arjun's grey-brown eyes.
When Samar turned the corner, Arjun felt a faint spark.
A pulse.
Like the System brushing his awareness.
Quiet.Thin.A whisper.
[Adaptive Instinct: +2% progress]
Just a flicker.
Gone immediately.
Arjun's breath left him in a slow, uneven exhale. He closed his eyes for a moment to steady his heart.
Meera stepped closer, worry softening her features. "Arjun… what's happening to you?"
He opened his eyes.
For the first time in a long time, he didn't have an answer.
But he had a direction.
And maybe—just maybe—a beginning.