The Corridor Standoff

Vansh stepped out of the classroom, gripping his comic book tightly as if it were the only familiar thing in this increasingly strange day. Just as he took a step forward, he felt a slight tug at the back of his shirt, a sensation so soft yet deliberate that it sent a quiet shiver down his spine. His breath hitched, and as he turned, he found Aanya standing there, her fingers still lightly holding the fabric.

He froze. He didn't speak. He simply stood there, staring at her, unable to process why she had stopped him like this. Aanya's gaze was steady, her expression unreadable yet strangely overwhelming, as if there was something in her eyes that carried more weight than her small frame should allow. The world behind her seemed muted, distant, as if the very air around her played an invisible melody, a tune only he could hear. There was something unnerving about this moment, something that wrapped around him like unseen threads, pulling him toward something he couldn't quite name.

"Vansh?" she said, her voice gentle but firm, holding just enough command to keep him rooted in place. "Will you go out with me?"

His mind blanked for a moment, the words registering too slowly for his liking. He stood there, his thoughts stuttering, his brain desperately trying to process the situation, but his body acted on instinct. Without thinking, he swiftly flipped open his comic book, murmuring under his breath, "Page number 43… no, wait, 143…" His fingers moved with trained precision, landing on the exact panel he sought. His eyes darted across the illustrated page, scanning the scene where a male character asked a scientist woman the exact same question—"Will you go out with me?" His breath grew unsteady as he looked at the next panel, where the woman blushed furiously, caught off guard by the sudden proposal.

But when Vansh lifted his gaze back to Aanya, reality struck him with an eerie contrast. She wasn't blushing. She wasn't hesitating. Her words had been clear, her tone steady, her intent unwavering. His heartbeat pounded violently in his chest, stretching beyond the limits of what he thought was physically possible, but he didn't let it show. Slowly, almost cautiously, he closed his book, making sure his expression remained as neutral as ever.

"Better know your words before you ask," he finally said, keeping his voice as level as he could manage.

Aanya's brows furrowed slightly, her head tilting ever so subtly as she studied him. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean," Vansh replied, his tone unwavering, unwilling to assume things outright but unable to ignore the odd weight behind her words. There was something deliberate about this, something that didn't quite sit right with him.

She hesitated for a moment, as if considering her next words carefully, before finally revealing, "I just wanted to explore the school, so I asked if you'd take me."

Vansh exhaled slowly, tension unwinding slightly from his shoulders. So that was it. He wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or if this was just another layer of a puzzle he hadn't yet figured out. But even as his mind processed her answer, an unease still clung to him. There were plenty of guys who would have been eager to say yes—so why had she asked him? His gut whispered something to him, a quiet yet insistent warning that settled deep in his bones.

This girl is dangerous. Better stay away.

He opened his mouth, ready to decline, but before he could utter a single word, Aanya smiled. It wasn't mocking, nor was it playful. It was simply calm—too calm, as if she had already calculated his response before he even had the chance to say it. "You know," she said lightly, tilting her head ever so slightly, "I could ask anyone for this… but I thought you'd be the best fit."

Vansh felt his stomach tighten. There was no threat in her voice, no direct force behind her words, yet somehow, it still carried weight. It was a simple statement, but it was laced with an unspoken reality—she had the authority to choose, and out of everyone, she had chosen him. It didn't matter if he wanted to refuse; the choice had already been made, and he could sense that walking away wouldn't be as simple as he hoped. His fingers curled around the edges of his comic book, gripping it just a little tighter as he felt himself being pulled into a situation he wasn't sure he could escape from.

His mind worked fast, scanning for an exit, for anything that could shift the course of this conversation. And then, at that exact moment, the door behind Aanya creaked open. His eyes flickered past her, catching sight of Srujan stepping out, rubbing his temples with a tired expression, his movements sluggish as if he had just woken from a heavy nap.

Vansh didn't hesitate. This was his moment.

"Srujan," he called out, his voice steady, his posture remaining firm as if nothing was amiss.

Srujan's ears perked up instantly, his body going rigid at the unexpected sound of his name. His head snapped toward the source, and the moment he saw Vansh standing there, looking directly at him, his heart skipped a beat. Vansh? Calling him? In the middle of school? This had to be a once-in-a-lifetime event.

His face lit up with pure excitement as he sprinted forward, sliding across the floor as if drawn by an invisible force, stopping just inches away from Vansh. His breathing was uneven, his eyes wide with anticipation, as if he were about to receive the most important mission of his life.

"I need you to do something for me," Vansh said without hesitation.

Srujan gasped, gripping Vansh's hands dramatically as he lifted them into the air like a scene straight out of a tragic play. His voice wavered with exaggerated emotion as he declared, "Oh, divine heavens! Vansh, my friend, you finally need me—"

"Cut the crap," Vansh interrupted flatly, pulling his hands back without changing his expression. "Take her."

Srujan froze, blinking in confusion. "…Huh?"

"Take her," Vansh repeated, nodding toward Aanya.

Srujan's head turned slowly, his gaze following Vansh's gesture until it landed on Aanya. She stood there, watching him with an unreadable yet knowing expression, one that made his chest tighten ever so slightly. He blinked, something strange stirring in him, though he couldn't quite name what it was.

"What do you mean by take her?" he asked cautiously, his voice quieter than before.

Vansh sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in mild irritation. "She wanted me to take her around the school. I'm not interested. You do it."

Srujan frowned slightly, glancing between Vansh and Aanya, his brain processing the situation far slower than he would have liked. "Wait. If she asked you first, why are you trying to pass it to me?"

But before Vansh could answer, an eerie sensation crawled up his spine.

A stare.

He didn't need to turn to know it was there. He could feel it—deep, familiar, unwavering.

Slowly, his gaze shifted toward the classroom door, where a shadowed figure stood in the dim hallway. Only part of his face was visible, but the eyes—half-lidded, sharp—watched them closely, as if dissecting every movement, every word exchanged.

Vansh's breath hitched for the briefest moment. He knew that stare.

And it wasn't good.

A shiver crawled up Vansh's spine, but it wasn't from Aanya this time. There was a presence behind him, a gaze he recognized far too well. He didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. With a slow breath, he exhaled, choosing not to keep it hidden anymore.

"How long are you going to stand there and stare, Dhanush?" His voice was calm, but there was a weight to it—one that acknowledged both familiarity and inevitability.

At the mention of his name, Dhanush stepped forward, his posture straight, composed. His sharp eyes scanned the group, not with suspicion but with measured observation. "I was checking on you," he stated, his voice even. "As your friend... and as class representative."

Srujan's ears perked up the moment he saw Dhanush. Without a second thought, he lunged forward, wrapping an arm around his shoulders with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Oh, come on, Dhanush! No need to be so formal. We're just having a—"

Dhanush didn't even flinch. With a practiced motion, he pulled out a small black notebook, flipping it open as he began writing. "Srujan," he announced, his tone official, "you are hereby reported for making a commotion in the corridor and for mocking the authority of the class representative."

Srujan gasped, clutching his chest like he had just been struck. "You can't do this to me! I'm your best friend!" His voice wavered dramatically as if he were the tragic lead in a theater play.

Dhanush didn't even spare him a glance. "Class representative is on duty. No interference with his duty," he stated matter-of-factly, before turning his attention to Vansh. With a deliberate nod toward Aanya, he added, "And as for you… since Aanya has chosen you, you are obligated to fulfill your duty and take her around the school."

Vansh's fingers twitched slightly, his jaw tightening just enough for Dhanush to notice. He glanced at Aanya, who remained silent, watching the exchange unfold with the same unwavering presence she always carried. Then, looking back at Dhanush, Vansh let out a slow breath.

"Dhanush, you're the class representative," Vansh said, voice even. "That means you should be the one taking her around."

Dhanush's lips curved just slightly, a knowing glint in his eyes. He had already anticipated this. "Nice try," he replied smoothly. "But we both know how this is going to go."

For a brief moment, there was silence. Both Vansh and Dhanush held their ground, neither backing down, both fully aware that this wasn't just a casual debate—it was a battle of wits, and it was about to escalate.

Srujan, ever the optimist, shrugged and grinned. "It's not a big deal, Vansh. Showing someone around a school you already know? Might actually be fun. Who knows, you might even enjoy it."

Vansh turned to him slowly, his gaze sharp with irritation. But instead of snapping, he exhaled and let his expression settle back into his usual serious demeanor. His voice was firm, unwavering.

"Enjoy?" he repeated, his tone edged with disbelief. "That's a ridiculous thing to say. Don't throw words like fun around so easily. And Dhanush—if she has the right to ask, then let her ask someone responsible. Not me." His gaze flicked toward Aanya, his voice turning colder. "And you—stay away from me. I don't know what you're trying to do, but I'm not interested in any of this anymore."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away without looking back.

For a split second, Aanya made a move to stop him again, reaching toward his sleeve—but before she could, Srujan placed a hand on her wrist, stopping her. His usual lightheartedness was gone for the first time, replaced by an understanding that only a close friend could have. His serious expression lingered just a second longer before he sighed and slipped back into his usual dramatic flair.

"Let him go," Srujan said, waving his hand dismissively. "Forget about him! We will have fun! I'll show you around, and hey, even the class rep is a nice guy."

Dhanush, however, wasn't convinced. He watched Vansh disappear down the corridor, his mind turning over Aanya's actions.

"You specifically wanted Vansh for this task," Dhanush stated, his voice quieter but firm. "Why? I've never seen you talk to any of the other guys like this."

Aanya turned to him, her expression unreadable. But for the briefest moment, her stare sharpened—so swift that Dhanush almost doubted if he had imagined it. And just as quickly, she softened, tilting her head slightly with a casual shrug.

"Isn't it obvious?" she said lightly. "I'm just interested in my benchmate."

Dhanush didn't reply immediately, but he felt something stir in the back of his mind—something that didn't sit right.

Before he could say anything else, a voice cut through the hallway.

"Vansh!"

The teacher's sharp tone snapped their attention to the other end of the corridor. She stood near the classroom doorway, arms crossed, watching as Vansh disappeared down the hall, his comic book tucked under his arm. She clicked her tongue in mild exasperation.

"He brought that book again," she muttered.

Meanwhile, Aanya walked back into the classroom, her expression unreadable once more. Srujan followed, but just as he was about to step inside, he noticed Dhanush still standing there, his eyes narrowed in thought.

"What's up?" Srujan asked, nudging him. "Something on your mind? Or are you planning new rules to make our lives harder?"

Dhanush ignored the joke, his voice quieter, more serious. "We should keep an eye on her," he said simply. "For Vansh."

Srujan blinked, momentarily thrown off by the weight of those words. But seeing Dhanush's expression—calm yet unwavering—he knew this wasn't just some idle thought.

Something about Aanya wasn't adding up.

And for the first time, Dhanush felt like he needed to know why.