Aarav was calm.
He was professional.
Finally—finally—he could feel some sense of order returning as he and Karan made their way to the ground floor after dinner. The air was cooler now, the post-dinner hostel buzz settling into something quieter, more contained. It was 8 PM. The perfect time to pay their juniors a little…visit.
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts, posture straight, expression composed. Karan walked a step behind him, half-engaged in a conversation on his phone, thumbs moving rapidly—very likely giving Navya live updates like this was some sort of reality show.
A first year passed by them.
The boy had been walking with a casual, almost overconfident strut—but the second his eyes landed on them, his entire gait shifted. Spine straightened. Shoulders tucked in. Respect mode: activated.
"Good evening, boss."
Aarav gave a small nod.
Yes.
This.
This was right.
This was order.
This was the natural hierarchy of the universe reestablishing itself after days—days—of psychological warfare at the hands of one specific menace.
And for once, Aarav allowed himself to feel something dangerous.
Optimism.
Which, frankly, should have been the first red flag.
They finally reached the familiar door.
Room number 66.
Aarav glanced at Karan. Karan looked up from his phone just long enough to give him a lazy, easygoing smile—completely unaware that fate was currently sharpening a knife behind their backs.
Aarav raised his fist and knocked sharply. Three precise knocks. Firm. Authoritative.
The door swung open.
A lanky boy stood there, his expression initially curious—until it wasn't.
Recognition hit.
His face dropped.
Then dropped further.
Then somehow managed to drop even more.
Anuj.
Because of course it was Anuj.
His brain began sprinting at a speed that would put first-year caffeine consumption to shame.
Seniors.
Not just seniors.
That senior.
Why was he here?
Had Nikhil done something again?
No—wrong question. Of course Nikhil had done something. The real question was when had he not done something.
Was this about the morning?
The nicknames?
The confrontation?
The emotional damage?
The potential defamation campaign?
All of the above?
Anuj swallowed.
"...B-boss."
Aarav tilted his head slightly, observing him.
Recognition dawned slowly.
Right.
This was the boy from that day.
The one he had told to find Nikhil's name.
Oh.
Oh no.
"Is this your room?" Aarav asked calmly.
If it was physically possible, Anuj's face went paler.
"Yes…" he said weakly, already mentally writing his will.
"Do you know who we are?"
Anuj shook his head.
Bad move.
Very bad move.
It was confirmed now. This was going to go horribly. When seniors visited, juniors were supposed to have their names ready. That was the whole point. The system. The order. The structure.
Anuj had not gotten that chance.
Mainly because his roommate was a walking natural disaster.
"I—I don't," he stammered. "I'm so sorry, I haven't been able to find out yet—"
By now, Karan had reached the doorway. He leaned casually against it, crossing his arms, looking far too relaxed for someone about to witness the collapse of an entire system.
"Relax, relax," he said, patting Anuj's shoulder like this was a friendly visit and not the beginning of the end. "It's not that serious. You've got time. We just came for a check-in."
Anuj's expression did not improve.
Because unlike Karan, he knew.
He knew what was lurking inside.
Karan leaned slightly, trying to peek into the room with mild curiosity.
Aarav exhaled slowly, already feeling a faint sense of unease creep in.
"Well, anyway," he said, frowning just slightly, "where's your roommate? We're here to meet you both."
He gave Anuj a look.
A clear one. It meant- Step aside. Invite us in.
Anuj swallowed.
His brain scrambled desperately for an excuse.
He came up with nothing.
Before he could say anything—
A voice came from inside. Deep. Lazy. Familiar.
Far too familiar.
"Who is it, Anuj?" the voice called out. "If it's checking for electrical appliances, we are completely innocent and know nothing—"
Anuj froze.
Karan's eyes widened slightly.
And Aarav—
Aarav's blood ran cold.
No.
No, that voice—
No.
No, no, no.
His brain refused to process it.
This was not happening.
This could not be happening.
There was no way the universe was this malicious.
And yet—
Nikhil stepped into view.
Fresh out of the shower, apparently, because of course he was. Water droplets clung to his still-damp curls. His sleeves were pushed up, his posture relaxed, completely unaware for exactly half a second—
Then he saw them.
A series of expressions crossed his face.
Surprise.
Confusion.
Recognition.
And then—
Oh.
Oh, that was bad.
That was very bad.
Because that expression settled into something else entirely.
Pure, unfiltered, delighted chaos.
Aarav stood frozen.
His mind blanked.
Completely.
No thoughts behind those eyes.
This was unbelievable.
This level of bad luck—this level of personal attack from the universe, from fate, from probability itself—it was genuinely incomprehensible. He had survived first-year MBBS. He had survived anatomy vivas.
And yet this—
This was where he broke.
This was his room child?
Him?
Karan made a noise beside him.
It sounded like a balloon slowly deflating as he struggled not to laugh. His face was a masterpiece—equal parts horror, fascination, and the kind of amusement that came from witnessing something catastrophic happen to someone else.
This was a trainwreck.
No.
This was a trainwreck falling off a cliff while on fire.
And he had front row seats.
Silence fell. It felt too thick, too heavy, too- too dangerous.
Anuj looked like he was about to faint.
Honestly, fair.
Finally—
Nikhil moved.
A slow, wicked smile spread across his face as his gaze dragged—deliberately, theatrically—over Aarav.
Taking in the expression of shock, disbelief, and everything in between.
And it delighted him.
"Oh," Nikhil said softly, stepping forward.
One step.
Then another.
Until he was standing right in front of Aarav.
He was close.
Too close.
"Well, well, well."
His voice dropped into that low, amused tone that had already ruined Aarav's week once before.
"So…" he tilted his head slightly, eyes gleaming, "you're not just a boss."
He paused. His lips curled in a smirk.
"But the boss."
He let the words hang.
Heavy.
Mocking.
Dangerously entertained.
The irony alone could've been bottled, labeled, and preserved as a specimen for future medical batches.
Nikhil leaned in just a fraction, close enough that only Aarav could hear the next part clearly.
"Looks like," he murmured, satisfaction threading through every syllable, "I've been pressing the right button all along."