Bond Of 3 Clowns [Bonus Chap]

The nurse gave Shahin a quick nod and left the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

Shahin lay still on the bed, eyes locked on the man across the room.

His thoughts began racing.

"What the hell… Why him? Of all people… I never expected this man would help us. He's… he's always so harsh. So cold. He never smiles. Never praises anyone."

He looked to his left again, at Johir and then at Shams.

Shams and Johir still unconscious. Breathing faint but steady.

"But why would he bring us here?"

A bitter thought crept in.

"Damn it... We're done for. There's no way we're escaping this one. We're going to get expelled from university. They're gonna make an example out of us."

The sound of approaching footsteps cut through the air.

The man in black coat entered slowly, his presence heavy—commanding silence from the entire room without saying a word.

He walked straight to Shahin's bed.

"Mister Shahin."

Shahin gulped.

The man's voice was calm… but icy.

"Two days ago, in the morning... I warned you and Johir. I told you not to create any trouble inside the university."

He paused.

His eyes scanned the beds on either side of Shahin.

"But not only did you two ignore the warning… you dragged an innocent boy—Shams—into this mess."

Sweat dripped from Shahin's brow. His eyes flicked toward Shams again.

Still unconscious.

"…Shams… and innocent?" Shahin muttered under his breath. "More like... damn battle god."

Then, in a flash of desperation—Shahin clutched his chest dramatically.

"Aahh!..."

He leaned back, half-closed his eyes, faking unconsciousness.

The man stood still, arms folded.

A sigh.

"Shahin… I know you're awake."

Silence.

No response.

Then, with a quiet shuffle of fabric, the man sat down on the edge of the bed.

Shahin peeked with one eye.

It was him.

Professor Anisur Rahman.

The strictest professor in the university. Feared by every student. Respected by every teacher.

A walking storm in the halls.

His punishments were brutal. His standards—unreachable.

But… there was something else about him.

Despite the harshness… he never punished students out of spite.

He never humiliated anyone for personal gain.

And he never, ever turned his back on a student in need.

Professor Anisur, the Iron Heart—with a core of gold.

Shahin's fake unconscious act melted into confusion, guilt, and a bit of shame.

The professor looked down at him, eyes sharp yet… gentle.

"Why do you think I warned you that morning?" he said quietly. "Because I hate you? No. Because I knew you two would be reckless. And because I knew… someone innocent could get caught in your fire."

He looked at Shams.

"…And that's exactly what happened."

Shahin looked down.

No comeback. No excuses.

He had nothing to say.

Then, for the first time, Professor Anisur's voice softened more than Shahin had ever heard it.

"You're students. You're young. You'll make mistakes. But if you don't learn from them... then pain like this—"

He glanced at the bandages.

"—will mean nothing."

He stood up.

"I already spoke to the Vice Chancellor. You three won't be expelled. For now."

Shahin's eyes shot open in surprise.

Professor Anisur turned at the doorway.

"But next time… there won't be a warning."

And with that, he walked away, coat swaying behind him—leaving Shahin speechless.

The Iron Heart… had carried them all to the hospital.

The man they feared… might just be the one who saved their futures.

[The ward of Dhaka Medical Hospital was as noisy as always.

Babies crying in the distance.

Two aunties arguing over whose patient needs more saline.

A nurse yelling at a man for stepping on the mopped floor.

Someone's phone ringing with a loud Bollywood ringtone.

It was chaos—classic Dhaka hospital chaos.]

Shahin narrowed his eyes and looked again at Shams and Johir.

Still.

Silent.

But then—

A slow bead of sweat trickled down Johir's jawline.

Then from Shams' brow.

Wait a damn second…

Shahin squinted.

His jaw dropped.

"You two…"

His voice rose in disbelief.

"YOU TWO AHO***!!"**

BOOM.

That scream cut through the chaos like a sword through butter.

For a split second—the impossible happened.

Silence.

Complete. Absolute.

No phone rings. No crying. No shouting.

Even the fan sounded like it stopped spinning.

Everyone turned to look at the screaming mummy-boy in the center bed.

A nurse gasped.

A doctor paused mid-step with an injection.

An old uncle in the corner stopped mid-story about his gallbladder.

All eyes locked on Shahin.

He was fuming. Face red. Breathing hard.

Then—

Johir cracked one eye open and whispered, "Oii… Shahin… Professor gone?"

Shahin snapped, "YES he's gone! But you MF!! You left me alone in the lion's den!! I thought Anisur Sir was going to bury me under university paperwork!!"

Johir chuckled, ignoring the bandages wrapped across his chest.

"I had to survive, bro. It's a Tactical coma. ."

Shams, eyes still closed, smiled like he just had a spa day.

"That fight, man… I feel weirdly refreshed."

Shahin nearly screamed again.

"Refreshed?! We got broken into KFC boneless chicken!!"

The three of them started talking like they were sitting in a dorm room after finals—not in a hospital ward recovering from a gang war.

Meanwhile, the ward had gone back to its noisy self—but now with a side of "what the hell is wrong with these boys?"

A woman whispered to her son,

"Beta, don't be friends with boys like them when you go to university."

A nurse sighed

A kid in the next bed started clapping. "I like these uncles!"

And in the middle of it all, the Three Legends of Dhaka Medical laughed like nothing happened.

Shahin flopped back dramatically.

"Next time… I'm playing dead for a month."

Back to present day…

Shams, with a slight grin on his face, walked calmly through it all.

He looked ahead at Shahin and Johir walking just a step ahead, arguing like always.

Shams chuckled softly.

"That's how we became best frien—no… brothers," he whispered. "We became brothers in the most chaotic way possible…"