By the time Vicky stumbled back into the hostel corridor, his legs felt like wet noodles.His shirt was half untucked, hair a mess, face pale like he just escaped a crime scene.
Kiran was lying on his bed scrolling Instagram.
He looked up once.
Twice.
Then sat up straight.
"Eh… dei… why do you look like you just met CBI, FBI, RAW and Income Tax together?"
Vicky collapsed face-first onto his bed.
"I think… I died… twice."
Kiran blinked."Bro… did a senior rag you? Tell me their name. I'll complain to warden—"
Vicky turned his head slowly, eyes hollow.
"I met her father."
"Whose father?"
"Rilu."
Kiran froze mid-breath.
"…The TCS girl?"
"Yes."
"In HER HOUSE?"
"YES."
Kiran inhaled so sharply he choked on his own spit.
"Kha—khakh—ptooo—DEI YOU WENT TO A GIRL'S HOUSE???"
"Not voluntarily!"
"HOW???"
"She dragged me."
Kiran's jaw hit the floor.
Then the laughter started.
Slow at first.
Then louder.
Then full-on, uncontrollable, dying-goat laughter.
"HAHAHAHA—DEI—YOU GRABBED HER HAND—in CHENNAI—AND SAID YES TO MARRIAGE—HAHAHA—NAA READY DA??"
"Shut up."
"Did he beat you?"
"No."
Kiran paused."…He let you go?"
"Yes."
"BRO WHAT DID YOU DO, TOUCH HIS FEET???"
"Kind of."
Kiran collapsed on the floor, clutching his stomach.
"I can't—bro—my chest—my ribs—STOP—"
Vicky threw a pillow at him.
"I almost got buried alive and you're doing a Netflix comedy special."
Kiran wiped tears.
"What did her father say?"
Vicky swallowed.
"He asked if I drink, smoke, gamble… then said if I follow her again, God can't save me."
Kiran whispered dramatically:
"Appavi… you're dead."
"I KNOW."
Kiran lay beside him, still laughing but softer now.
"Bro… meenamaari pullai life ah start panna poriya?(Bro… are you planning to start life like a fish-market boy?)"
Vicky groaned.
"I'm not going anywhere near her again."
Kiran smirked.
"She looked at you?"
"Yes."
"With disgust or interest?"
"I DON'T KNOW."
Kiran cackled again.
2. MEANWHILE… AT THE ARASU ESTATE
Narayan Arasu sat in his study.
Not angry.
Not irritated.
Just… thoughtful.
His wife, Swathi Arasu, placed a cup of filter coffee on the table.
"Who was that boy?" she asked.
Arasu tapped his fingers on the desk.
"Vicky Kumar."
"You know him?"
"No. But he said he wants to marry our daughter."
Swathi froze. "…WHAT?"
"He said it by mistake."
"Then why is he still alive?"
Arasu sipped his coffee calmly.
"Because he didn't run when I questioned him. And he admitted it."
Swathi narrowed her eyes.
"So? Idiots say things."
"Hmm."
He opened his laptop.
Typed a name.
Vicky Kumar — Jaipur
In seconds, his team's backend system logged into multiple databases.
School records.Address.Parent profiles.Bank backgrounds.No criminal record.No suspicious activity.
Ordinary. Completely harmless.
Swathi watched the screen.
"Just a kid."
"Yes. But kids don't follow Rilu unless they're extremely brave… or extremely stupid."
Swathi raised an eyebrow.
"And which one is he?"
Arasu leaned back.
"That's what I'm going to find out."
He clicked a button.
A message went out to his trusted aide:
Monitor the boy from a distance. No interference. Keep it invisible.
Swathi sighed.
"You're overthinking."
"Maybe. But Rilu brought him home. That alone is unusual."
Swathi paused.
"…She never brings boys home."
Arasu didn't smile, but something flickered in his eyes.
"That's exactly why this boy interests me."
3. BACK AT THE HOSTEL — VICKY'S NIGHT THOUGHTS
Kiran eventually fell asleep on Vicky's bed, still mumbling:
"Machan… appa-ku pesara… you're gone…"
But Vicky lay awake staring at the ceiling.
His mind replayed the scene again and again.
Her hair.Her voice.Her eyes when she turned back.The way she grabbed his collar in the bus.
And then—
Her name.
Rilu.
The word echoed in his head like a drumbeat.
"Rilu Osbo…"
He whispered to himself:
"I found her… but what now?"
The beacon lay inside his drawer, dark, silent.
He didn't know that in another corner of Chennai…
Narayan Arasu's men had already begun watching him.