"Expect The Unexpected."

__________________________

The hallway was packed with early morning buzz and chatters of students swirling through the corridor. Charvi and Arjun made their way towards their classroom, which was at the top floor, side by side.

Charvi was talking about something animatedly, while Arjun was listening to her with a small curve of lips and occasional nods and hums. Her chattering hadn't stopped from the bus ride.

"...I swear, we have to go to the lab today, and if Karan becomes my partner again and messes with my experiment, I'll throw the whole set up at him." Charvi spoke, twisting her face distastefully.

Arjun chuckled slightly. "You're violent." He flicked the side of her head, playfully. Charvi scowled at him, but it didn't sway him.

"Only when people do something to piss me off." She justified herself, defensively, pointing a pointed finger at him.

Before Arjun could respond, a girl suddenly bumped into his side, making him stumble slightly and causing herself to gasp as she fell on the ground. The incident quickly caught the attention of other students present there.

The girl, Isha, who was still on the ground, gritted her teeth and felt her cheeks humiliation and embarrassment under the other students' stares, and their murmurs stood up abruptly, glaring at Arjun.

"Urgh, watch where you were going!" Isha snarled at him.

Arjun, however, unaware and unfazed her malice feelings, gave her an apologetic look, and apologized. "I'm sorry. I hope you didn't hurt yourself." It was brief, monotonous but sincere.

Charvi eyed the girl, up and down, but didn't say anything. Arjun turned to Charvi, nodding towards making their way back to the class.

Arjun didn't like unnecessary drama or fights or arguments that could be solved with a few words. He was the type to ignore drama and sat in the peaceful, quiet corner.

As they were about to resume their way back. Isha still feeling the humiliation and embarrassed burning through her body, scoffed, crossing her arms. "Typical. Boys like you just need an excuse to touch a girl, don't you?" She taunted, looking at him in disgust.

That caused both of them to stop dead in their track. Charvi slowly tyrned her head to look at her, narrowing her eyes. Arjun, too, turned to her, visibly taken aback by her baseless accusation.

Arjun blinked and frowned in disblief. How could she blame him for such a crude thing when she was the one who bumped into him. "What? That's not-" He was about to defend himself but was cut off by Isha.

She let out a mocking chuckle. "Oh please, acting all innocent won't work here. You think just because you're quiet and the top model student of the school, people won't notice? Boys like you just act to be all good and nice, when in reality you're nothing but a—"

"But a what, huh? What?" This time, it was Charvi who spoke, stepping forward. Her voice was low, but sharp, and there was a warning tinge in it.

Isha turned to her, titling her head up, raising her eyebrow as if looking down on Charvi. "Oh, come on, Charvi. You can't be that naive, can you? You think he's different? They all are the same. They see a beautiful girl and all they want to do is touch."

Charvi's fists clenched, as did Arjun's jaw. Both had entirely different reasons - one reacted to the words spoken against him, while the other couldn't overlook the tone used with her.

Charvi wasn't just angry-she was furious. How could this girl accuse her best friend of such a thing? When she was the one who bumped into him? And he didn't even touch her. Was she high imagining such things? But one thing, Charvi wasn't going to let anyone, anyone, talk about her best friend like that.

"Listen, Isha, and listen very carefully." Charvi's voice was calm, but it carried that dangerous stillness - the kind you only hear before a storm. "Arjun is 10 times better than the person you're projecting him to be. He'd never do such a thing. Ever. Why are you accusing him when you're at fault here?"

Isha scoffed again, clearly not expecting resistance. "You're only saying that because he's your friend. You think I didn't feel it? He brushed past me on purpose."

"You bumped into him!" Charvi snapped, her patience wearing thin. "You weren't looking, and you walked right into him. There are cameras all over this corridor - want us to go check?"

Arjun didn't say anything. His face had gone still - unreadable - but his clenched jaw and the slight tremble in his hands gave him away. He wasn't just shocked. He was hurt. Genuinely, deeply hurt.

It wasn't a light accusation. It was about his character.

And Charvi saw it - the hurt behind the cold, neutral facade.

That did it.

"Accusing someone of something this serious-this disgusting-without proof is not bold, Isha. It's cruel. And pathetic," Charvi continued, stepping closer now, her eyes unwavering. "You don't get to spit poison and play the victim."

"I'm not playing victim!" Isha gritted her teeth, not liking being called out like that. "He.. he was standing their like a statue. It's not my fault. He was in the way!" She tried one last time but failed miserably.

Meanwhile, the crowd around them just increased, eager to see the fight. Arjun, seeing the commosion increase, just wanted to disappear before it turned into something big. But Charvi, she was just getting started.

Charvi let out a dramatic gasp and clutched her chest. "Oh no! How dare he exist in the world?" Her tone dripping with sarcasm, but her gaze was sharp fixed on Isha.

"Next time, we'll make sure the whole school clears out so her highness can walk without any trouble or us lowly people being an obstacle."

Arjun tensed up, feeling more people gather. It was a matter of time when the teachers came and they got into trouble. He didn't want Charvi to get into trouble because of him. "Charu, let it be. She's not worth-"

"Tum chup raho! Mai baat kar rahi hu na."

She snapped, turning her sharp gaze to him. He opened his mouth but decided otherwise and nodded, keeping his mouth shut. Arjn wasn't surprised. Neither by her words nor by the fire in her eyes.

[Shut up. I am talking, aren't I?]

"I don't need to explain myself to you." Isha spat, clearly flustered, but trying to remain unfazed.

"Oh, you really do." She said, voice like a velvet knife. "Because next time, you talk like that about Arjun again... I'll make sure the whole school knows what a liar you are."

The warning in her tone wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. It was cold. Precise. The kind that made even the most confident shrink back.

Isha's mouth opened, maybe to argue - but nothing came out.

Isha faltered slightly, her smug expression flickering. "Are you seriously defending him over me?"

"I'm defending the truth," Charvi said. "And if you knew even one percent of who Arjun is, you'd know how wrong you are."

Isha looked around - probably noticing the small crowd that had started gathering near the corridor, whispers beginning to hum in the background.

Arjun finally spoke. His voice was quiet but steady.

"You don't know me, Isha. So don't talk like you do. I don't care what you think of me, but don't you dare say things that could ruin someone's name. That's not just petty, that's dangerous."

There was silence for a beat.

And then Charvi took one final step forward, her voice sharp as glass. "Apologize. Now."

Isha hesitated - ego battling with the reality sinking into her expression.

"Or," Charvi added coolly, "we take this to the principal. And the CCTV. Let's see how that goes for you."

Isha's jaw clenched. "Fine. Sorry," she muttered, glaring at Arjun like the apology was poison on her tongue.

Charvi didn't even blink. "Louder. Like you meant it."

Isha looked at her with disbelief and scoffed. "You've got to be-"

"Now." Arjun said, voice low but cold with enough force that even Charvi blinked.

Isha flinched, then finally spat out, "I'm sorry. Okay? I shouldn't have said that." She spat gruffly.

Charvi didn't thank her. Didn't smile. Just turned on her heel and walked off, tugging Arjun along by the sleeve, without sparing her so much of a glance. Arjun followed behind her, quietly.

Once out of the public eye. Charvi left his sleeve and huffed. Arjun exhaled slowly, looking at Charvi, who still looked like an angrybird.

"You didn't have to do that." He said softly.

She turned to him, hands of her hips, eyes narrowed. "Yes, I did. Didn't you see how she was accusing you?"

They stared at each other for a moment. There's was something in Charvi's eyes - protectiveness, frustration, anger, and something Arjun couldn't name. The protectiveness in her eyes made his heart do a little flip.

Charvi stayed quiet for a moment. She pinched the bridge of her nose, huffing and eyed him. "Why didn't you say something? You just let her blame you!"

Arjun blinked, startled.

"I tried-"

"Trying wasn't enough, Arjun. You should've fought!" She snapped, her voice rising before she caught herself. She looked around at the few lingering students, then lowered her voice, but her tone remained sharp.

"You should've shut her down the moment she opened her bloody mouth to bad mouth you!" She whisper-yelled at him.

He looked at her - really looked - then dropped his gaze with a sigh. "I didn't want to cause a scene."

Charvi stepped in front of him, her expression stunned. "A scene? She accused you of doing something disgusting, and you were worried about a scene?"

"She already made up her mind," he said quietly. "No matter what I said, she wouldn't have listened. People like that... they don't care about truth. They just want to create drama."

He looked at her, and shook his head. "And honestly, I don't care." He stated firmly.

"But I do!" Charvi snapped. But her anger was also endearing for him because she cared. Truly cared. For him."She doesn't get to tarnish your character like that!"

"She wasn't worth the argument, Charu. She's not worth it." Arjun stated calmly, but firmly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Charvi sighed, getting his point... a little, if not whole. "You're too nice and ignorant, Arjun. If you keep this up, one day, people will walk all over you." Her voice was low now, relatively calm.

She looked at him and blinked before continuing. "Iss papi duniya mein itna accha aur peace-lover banke kuch nhi milta. Samjhe? Woh tujhpe basically harassment ka accusation laga rahi thi aur tu bas waha bhoot banke khada tha."

[In this cruel world, being too nice and peace-loving gets you nowhere. Got it? She was basically accusing you of harassment, and you were just standing there like a ghost.]

"I know that. Mai bas-" Arjun trued to speak, but who was he kidding. Who was ever able to soeak in front of this packet bomb?

[I just-]

She clicked her tongue a few times, shaking her head a few times. "Batao kal ko koi agar tujhpar murder ka charge lag jaye, toh tu toh bas haan-haan karte apne haath aage kar dega. Ki 'lo bhai, laga do handcuffs, tum bhi kya yaad rakhoge ki maine apni acchayi ke chalte kisi aur ka kiya khoon tak apne sar qubool kar liya'."

[Tell me, if tomorrow someone accuses you of murder, you'd probably just nod along and hold out your hands like, 'Here, go ahead, put the handcuffs on. Let it be known that in the name of my goodness, I even took the blame for someone else's crime.']

She narrowed her eyes, the brief softness vanished into thin air. "Aise survive karega tu? Bata kal phir aisa kuch hua aur zyada serious level pe hua toh tu yahi karega? Huh? Just stand there and take it?"

[Is this how you plan to survive? Tell me-if something like this happens again tomorrow, is this what you'll do?]

Her voice trembled ever so slightly, not with fear — but with how furious she was at the thought of someone hurting him like that again. And him letting them.

He didn’t flinch. Just looked at her.

"Toh tu rahegi na mere saath... nhi rahegi kya?" He said innocently, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like the question itself was a fact wrapped in softness. Momentarily making her forget her anger.

[You'll be with me, wouldn't you?]

Charvi stared at him for a while. Her mouth opened to say something — anything — but no words came. Not the anger. Not the comeback.

Finally, she groaned and slapped his arm — not hard, just enough to make her point.. "Accha? Aur kal ko agar meri shaadi ho gayi aur mai chali gayi toh kya karega, huh? Bhai, self-sufficient ban, samjha?"

[Really? And what if I get married and leave tomorrow? Then what? Bro, be self-sufficient, understood?]

Arjun blinked, expression flickering between mock offense and mild annoyance.

“Shaadi? Tu abhi se shaadi ki baatein kyu kar rahi hai?” he asked, frowning like she’d just told him the apocalypse was scheduled for next Tuesday.

[Marriage? Why are you talking about marriage right now?]

Charvi rolled her eyes. “Example de rahi hoon, dimwit. Future-proofing kar rahi hoon tera emotional system.”

[I was just giving an example. I was future-proofing your emotional system]

He went quiet for a second, unusually serious. "So, you'll leave?" His face was expressionless.

Charvi paused mid-walk and tuened to him, confused.

"…huh?"

“I mean… nothing. Let's go.” His voice was too casual. Too light. Like he was trying to play it cool but failing miserably.

Charvi sighed and turned to face him, giving an overexagerated 'done' expression. "Yes, Arjun, ek din toh sabko jaana hi padta hai. Shaadi, college, alien abduction — there is always a reason to leave."

[One day, everyone has to leave. Marriage, college, alien abduction — there is always a reason to leave]

She stated casually, Arjun hummed absentmindedly, as they resumed their way towards their class. Charu, suddenly, turned to him, grinning like a mischievous cat.

She nudged him in the stomach. "And.. teri bhi toh shadi hogi kabhi na kabhi." She teased, wiggling her eyebrows. Her eyes were full of mischief and life.

[You'll also get married one day]

Smack!

Charvi yelped as a smack landed on her head. She gasped and looked at Arjun with an expression of disbelief as she realised what had happened. 

She whipped around, eyes wide in pure betrayal. "How dare you smack my head like that? You..."

But her words hung mid-air.

Because Arjun?

Arjun Raghuwanshi had the audacity to ignore her. Hands in his pockets, completely unbothered, casually walking toward their class like he hadn’t just committed a heinous act of violence.

Her jaw dropped. "Arjun!”

He didn’t look back.

"ARJUN!"

Still didn't look back.

"ARJUN!!"

She stomped her foot, but the response still didn't come.

"ARJUN RAGHUWANSHI!!!"

Nope. Still didn't.

“YOU’RE SO DEAD, ARJUN RAGHUWANSHI!” she yelled, picking up her bag dramatically and bolting after him.

The corridor echoed with the slap of her footsteps and the chaos she brought wherever she went.

Arjun finally glanced over his shoulder — with that infuriatingly calm face — and said, "Walk faster, we’re late."

"Oh I’ll walk faster, alright. Fast enough to kick that faster out of you!"

____________________________

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Arre, bohot sari cheezo ke liye. Ab apko ek baat konsi batao?" I said to the man beside me.

[It's for so many things. Which one should I tell you?]

I was on my way back inside when I bumped into him. Dhruv. And now here, we were. I mean, I was in his car, as he showed me the way towards the nearby internet cafè.

How kind of him.

Out of all the people in the house, he was the least whom I expected would do this. But then again, expect the unexpected, they say. "Ek baat bataiye, aap kaam konsa karte hai?" I asked casually.

[What's your profession?]

The silence always bothered Meera, anyway. (In elsa's voice)

"Why do you want to know that?" He asked nonchalantly, in that patent tone of his. Just one straight reply. Just one. But that's like asking for a piece of star with this man.

"Nhi, matlab, hum toh bas aise hi. Aap itne velle hai ki bhari dopahar hume internet cafè le ja rahe hai isliye." No, I just, you are dropping me off at an internet cafè midday. That's why.

Reverse psychology. No, it can't be called that, right? It's just riling someone to get answers out of them in agitation.

…Or maybe it was reverse psychology. Just the Meera brand—laced with snark, dipped in sarcasm, and served with a side of innocent expression.

Dhruv shot me a look. The kind that made you feel like you’d said something absurd, but he couldn’t be bothered to waste a full sentence on it.

But instead of snapping, he calmly replied, "I’m not vella." So, he can give straight answers. So.. why doesn't he? Attitude? Trying to maintain that stub, cool boy, mystery man personality?

"Okay, fine," I said, leaning back into the seat. "Then enlighten me. What do you do?" I promted once again. Cone on, I live in his house now. So, we are basically housemates and not strangers. He heard all of my biography before letting me stay, and now, he wasn’t even reciprocating a casual conversation started to ease the awkwardness?

A beat passed. He shifted gears. The silence stretched long enough for me to start humming Jeopardy music in my head. And then—

"I’m a forensic scientist," he said finally, like he was stating the weather. Bravo! Mr. Dhruv said his first straight answer. Someone distribute sweets, please.

Eh, am I going insane? What am I even saying.

I blinked to snap out of the weird thoughts. But wait.. forensic scientist? That's why he has this dead face. If a person stays 24/7 with corpses, then this is the desired result. The man himself becomes dull like a corpse. Good thing, God served him the looks to cope up with that.

"Like… crime scenes and DNA and fingerprints and dead bodies?" I asked again to keep the conversation going.

"Among other things." He deadpanned.

My jaw practically dropped. Other things? What else does he do? Secret spy? Contact killer? Money laundering? Bacha chor? Illegal smuggling? Selling government confidentials? "Wait. Are you serious?"

He nodded, entirely unfazed. He spared me one glance and signed, probably after seeing my expressions. Come on, the tone he used to say and in the dead way that he said, 'among other things,' anyone would have such assumptions about the said 'other things' okay.

"I own a lab. Private sector. We handle high-profile forensic consultations, evidence reprocessing, and lab work for old and ongoing investigations… all that." He explained, turning the car around a cornor.

I just stared at him, trying to process the mental whiplash. This man—this quiet, expressionless, intimidating pillar of sarcasm—was out there solving actual crime scenes while I had assumed he just sulked around in monochrome outfits and judged people for breathing too loud.

I judged Dhruv wrongly—wait, is it right to call him by his name? I mean… he looks older. He talks older. And the man literally works with dead bodies and evidence bags for a living. That screams 'sir', not 'Dhruv.'

Before I could stop myself, the words tumbled out. "How old are you?"

He glanced at me briefly, then turned back to the road, the barest flicker of amusement on his face. "Do you want to make a natal chart on me or what?" he said, voice painfully flat.

"No, it's just for addressing formalities, you know. I call your mom, 'aunty', because she's obviously older than me. I call your dad, 'sir', for the aura he has. What about you? Are you 'uncle' or 'bhaiya'?" I rambled on.

He blinked once. Slowly. The way people do when they’re questioning every life choice that led them to this exact moment.

"That… is the worst multiple choice I’ve ever heard," he said finally, eyes back on the road.

I shrugged, absolutely unbothered. "I’m just trying to be respectful."

He sighed. "I'm twenty-eight." Ah, six years older than me. Not bad. Wait.. where did that cone from? Not bad for what Meera?! Get a grip. Your alliance is fixed back at home.

"Oh, so, you're bhaiya material." I mumbled.

"You don't have to use that title or any such for that. Just Dhruv is fine with me." He said, casually, flatly, totally unbothered.

"Nhi, nhi, aise apne se bhadho ko naam se nhi bula sakte hum. Accha nhi lagta."

[No, I can't call my elders by their name. It's disrespectful]

"Excuse me? I'm not even that old." He said defensively.

Age is indeed a sensitive topic when you pass that one age. Now, look at my Amma, she is in her 70s, still she's always acting fussy and dressing up like it's a fashion show.

"Excuse me?" He glanced at me in disbelief and faint anusement. Did I say that out aloud? I most probably did.

"Er, nothing, leave it. Why bother? I'll just call you Dr. Dhruv." I dismissed the  conversation. It was getting too much.

He didn't say anything after that and just focused on his drive. Let me memorize the way, in case I come here again on my own. That's one thing I am 101% sure of.

Sigh, what will I first do when I get their? Search for his father's college. Yeah, hey, wait...

"Aapke pitaji ke college ka naam kya hai?" I asked suddenly without giving it much thought.

[What's the name of your father's college?]

He glanced at me, then replied. Short. Precise. Straight to point. Just like him. "IILM Law and Business Academy."

IILM Law and Business Academy.

Should I change the genre and get into business stuff instead? Nah, I know little to nothing about business. I am not exactly a businesswoman material.

Soon enough, we reached a place. Julie's Internet Cafè. It looked like a small, cozy place.

The café was tucked into a quiet corner of the street, its warm yellow glow spilling onto the pavement through tall windows lined with potted plants.

A small quote was also return underneath the board.

Julie's Internet cafè.

With Love and Coffee,

With Books and Technology,

Step into our time-warped nook —

where analog hearts meet digital dreams.

Pull up a chair, spin a vinyl,

log in or tune out.

Here, the Wi-Fi’s warm,

the coffee’s stronger than heartbreak,

and every page—paper or pixel—has a story to tell.

How nice. It was very aesthetically appleasing and appealing.

I bade goodbye to Dr. Dhruv, who just nodded in acknowledgment and sped off. I looked towards the cafè. It's gonna be a long day.

__________________________

"J'ai entendu dire que c'était toi qui t'occupais des restes de ce bâtard." A deep, low and steady, thick accent laced voice spoke from the other side of the call, one that I was gravely familiar with.

[I heard you are the one dealing with that bastard's remains]

"Je ne savais pas que mes cadavres faisaient la une des journaux jusqu'en France." I answered, unamused with a slight smirk, looking at the bustling Agra view from my cabin window.

[I didn’t know my corpses made headlines all the way to France]

"Oh, je sais tout quand il s'agit d'une affaire qui me concerne, Monsieur Dhruv Saxena." He spoke leisurely, most liking flickering that lighter of his.

[Oh, I know everything when it's a matter that concerns me, Mr. Dhruv Saxena]

"Et en quoi cela vous concerne-t-il, Monsieur Noirè?" I asked, refering to the recent corpse that came into the lab last evening.

[And how does this one concern you, Mr. Noirè?]

He clicked his tongue, and I could hear the flickering of the lighter. On and off. On and off. "Peut-être parce que j'étais le karma de ses actes sanglants." He replied casually. As if telling me he didn't just enlighten me with his involved in his death.

[Maybe because I was the karma of his bloody deeds]

"Qu'est-ce qui vous a poussé à tuer un homme à Agra alors que vous étiez en France?" I asked. It wasn't usual for him to call, let alone ask me about a body he killed. Or precisely got killed.

[What made you do the honors to kill a man in Agra while being in France?]

"Il commençait à gêner." He deadpanned. On and off. "Attendez-vous à ma visite. Je ferai un dernier voyage en Inde pour en finir une fois pour toutes." He declared in a final, certain tone.

[He was getting in my way/ Expect my visit. I'll give one last visit to India to end it once in for all]

"I am not going to stand there waiting for you with a garland. Why are you telling me this?" I snapped, but my voice was lower than I intended. I never liked his tone.

"Parce que," he said, the silence stretching between syllables like the string of a violin pulled too tight, "tu es déjà dedans, que tu le veuilles ou non."

[Because you're already in it, whether you like it or not.]

I closed my eyes. My fingers curled tighter around the phone. Of course I was in it. When had I ever been out?

"You always liked playing god, didn't you?" I muttered in mild annoyance.

"Non," he said smoothly. "Je suis seulement le couteau. Le choix de l'utiliser, c’est toujours le tien. D'ailleurs, ne sommes-nous pas de vieilles connaissances ? Organisez mon séjour. Au revoir." He said in that smug, no-one-is-better-than-me tone.

[I'm only the knife. The choice to use it was always yours. Besides, aren't we old acquaintances? Make arrangements for my stay. Goodbye.]

A click. He hung up.

I stared at the blank screen like it could offer me answers. A man was dead in Agra. Dhruv was coming to India. And somehow, I was the bridge between both disasters.

Zev Caelum Noirè.

That man was nothing but bad news wrapped in venom. A wolf lurking in dark. His visit here will bring havoc. That's one thing for sure.

I sat on my chair and opened the recent files on my Computer to fill in the details of a recent case.

CASE ID: FCD-UP/AGRA-327/25

DATE FILED: 30 June 2025

LOCATION: Haveli No. 54, Daresi Road, Agra, Uttar Pradesh, India

REPORTING AGENCY: UP Crime Branch (Special Investigation Cell)

VICTIM DETAILS:

Name: Samar Ahuja

Age: 42

Sex: Male

Occupation: Ex-Border Intelligence Officer (retired), Freelance Security Consultant

Cause of Death: Exsanguination from a deep laceration to the carotid artery

Estimated Time of Death (ETD): Between 01:00 AM and 03:00 AM IST, 28 June 2025

Body Found: 28 June 2025, 06:17 AM by domestic help

Midway through it, my thoughts wandered back to her. How the heck did I give her a ride? She was wrong.

I wasn’t vella. Far from it. I had a pile of forensic reports waiting on my desk, three pending consultations, and an urgent lab review I was supposed to oversee this afternoon. And yet why?

Eh, humanity. That's it.

That’s it. That’s the only explanation I was willing to entertain without diagnosing myself.

She was a chatterbox for sure. She has that light in her eyes even while talking about the most mundane and random things.

Even after my dry replies, indifferent attitude, she continued. People usually left me alone. I preferred it that way. Silence was easy. Predictable.

She wasn’t.

But that's why I was intrigued. Because I liked things my way, I liked to call the shots, keep things in check, and in control. My control.

My chain of thoughts was interrupted by a phone call.

Harsh.

"What is it?" I spoke as I picked up that call.

"Pilor road bypass, central highway, near bindra forest. A boy, 18, dead." He spoke neutrally, without his usual touch of humor. His tone meant business.

"On my way," I quickly wore my coat and informed my team, and made my way towards the destination. 

__________________________

Hi, bye.

Kidding, do vote and comment.