The classroom door slammed open.
Everyone jerked their heads around.
Aria stood there, breathing hard, arms still full of answer sheets. But she didn't look like the Aria they all knew. Her uniform was crumpled, dust all over it, her hair falling out of place. A scratch ran across her forehead, her knee was bleeding through the fabric. She looked like she'd just come out of a fight.
The whole room went dead silent.
"What the hell…" someone whispered.
Ashwin shot up from his seat, his eyes wide. "Aria—did someone bully you?"
Mirzad leaned forward, frowning. "Don't lie. That's GHSS written all over it."
Aria shook her head quickly, her voice low but firm. "No… I just fell, okay?"
Zorvath's eyes narrowed, fury under his voice. "Who are you trying to protect?"
But Aria didn't answer. She didn't even look at him. She just marched straight to the front, slammed the bundle of papers on the desk, and faced everyone.
"Listen up," she said, her voice rough but steady. "Yesterday you all wrote the test. I corrected every single paper. And now… I've split the ninety-four students of KHSS into seven batches."
The class started buzzing again, but she talked louder, cutting them off.
"Batch One: twelve students. Leader, Danvy.
Batch Two: fifteen students. Leader, Rithul.
Batch Three: fourteen students. Leader, Lolan.
Batch Four: thirteen students. Leader, Mirzad.
Batch Five: fifteen students. Leader, me.
Batch Six: ten students. Leader, Ruby.
Batch Seven: fifteen students. Leader, Leo."
Her hands were shaking as she pulled out another paper, but she forced herself to pin it to the wall. "The full list is here. You can check your names after this."
Murmurs broke out instantly, questions flying, some students already arguing.
The classroom erupted the second Aria's voice faded.
"What's the point of this?" a boy from Batch Two shot up, his tone sharp. "You think splitting us into groups and making us write quizzes will suddenly make money rain down?"
Another girl chimed in, arms crossed, voice laced with sarcasm. "Yeah, exactly. You just blocked the only way we used to make money. Now what—sit and study literature like good little kids? Nothing's going to change."
Voices rose, overlapping, tumbling over each other.
"This won't work."
"She's wasting our time."
"She doesn't know what KHSS is really like."
Aria's lips pressed together. For a moment it looked like she wanted to argue, to fight back—but then her shoulders sank. She lowered her head, the words barely slipping past her lips.
"I… I'll find a solution."
The room hushed just enough for the whisper to carry. And then, without another word, Aria turned and walked out.
Sona, Sreya, and Danvy rose without hesitation. Not a sound left their mouths, but the way they followed after her—shoulders squared, eyes forward—spoke louder than any defense could.
Zorvath stayed rooted where he was. He hadn't said a word through it all, but his gaze never left Aria's retreating figure. His stare carried no mockery, no doubt—only a quiet, steady awe that no one else seemed to notice.
Rithul noticed. His eyes flicked to Zorvath, waiting, expecting him to speak up, to break the silence for Aria.
But Zorvath didn't.
And in that stillness, the weight of his silence echoed heavier than any argument.
_____..
Aria stormed out of the classroom, her steps quick, almost like she was running away.
Sona, sreya and Danvy rushed after her, trying to match her pace, but it was Danvy whose frustration boiled over. She pushed herself forward, overtaking Aria, and stopped right in front of her.
"Did they bully you?" Danvy demanded, her voice sharp but low. "Why are you trying to protect them?"
Aria kept her head down. She couldn't meet Danvy's eyes—she didn't even try. Her voice came out thin, strained.
"I just… I don't want to make a scene. Please… leave me. Let me be alone."
Sona opened her mouth, ready to say something, but Danvy raised her hand to stop her. For a moment, Danvy just looked at Aria's slumped shoulders, her tired face, and then she spoke softly—quieter than before.
"Remember… you are not alone."
Those words hit Aria harder than the questions, sticking to her like glue. But she didn't reply. She just turned away, her feet carrying her down the stairs without direction.
The veranda stretched out before her, quiet and polished, walls freshly painted, edges sharp and clean. Everything looked new, but her mind was a tangled mess. Her steps slowed as she wandered, not even sure where she was going, until she found herself outside a familiar door.
The staff room.
Her hand pushed it open almost on instinct. Inside, the air was stale, heavy. And there he was—Mr. Das—slouched in a corner chair, a half-empty bottle in his hand, the sharp smell of alcohol hanging around him.
Aria's brows furrowed. She stepped closer, her voice cutting the quiet.
"If you're drinking like this, you don't have the right to close Room Zero."
Rahan Das let out a rough laugh, swirling the bottle lazily. His eyes—bloodshot but still sharp—lifted to her.
"I'm just a butterfly who's already lost its wings," he muttered, his words heavy but strangely poetic. "You kids… you're still caterpillars. Long way to go."
Aria didn't argue. She just nodded once, walked over, and sat beside him. Without hesitation, she reached out, grabbed the bottle from his hand, and flung it toward the far corner. The dull clink echoed against the wall.
Rahan Das blinked at her, eyebrows raised, his face saying Who the hell do you think you are? But his lips didn't move. He stayed silent, only leaning back further in his chair.
After a beat, his voice came low.
"New problem?"
Aria dragged in a deep breath, her shoulders sagging. "I was just… thinking of a way to sort out the money problem here. The students are mad because of me Room Zero was..." She cut herself off, biting her lip.
Rahal Das didn't need the rest. His expression softened for just a flicker. "They're not mad at me?..... If they want money, they should go get a part-time job.....
... Chill, girl."
Aria's head snapped toward him, her eyes flashing. "If they go to a job, they'll stop school. You want to drop the number of ninety-four students to zero?"
For the first time, Rahal Das didn't have a quick reply. He let out a crooked, awkward smile—part embarrassment, part concession. "Got a point."
Aria rolled her eyes,
Das leaned forward, voice low and steady. " Aria. I am the owner of KHSS. So, KHSS is my responsibility. Zorvath is the leader here. Everyone trusts him. Naturally, he's responsible for KHSS too. But you—" his gaze narrowed, sharp but not cruel—"you could just run away from here. This is none of your business. But why? Why do you care?"
Aria froze, her jaw tightening. For a long moment, she didn't answer. The silence stretched heavy, broken only by the faint ticking of the wall clock. Finally, she let out a long breath.
"If I run away… I lose. And I don't care if I lose. But I just can't let the students here—" her voice wavered slightly before steadying again, "—including you, lose. Don't ask me why. I don't know. Maybe… maybe because that would turn into my biggest nightmare."
Das leaned back, a laugh slipping out, quiet at first, then clearer. "Wrong." His smile twisted, almost bitter, almost proud. "Because it's there in your blood."
Aria's lips pressed into a thin line. She shook her head. "My blood… is much worse."
For a heartbeat, the words just hung in the air. Then Das threw his head back and laughed—loud, rough, the sound echoing through the empty staff room.
"You know nothing, kid," he said, still chuckling as he wiped at his eyes. "But remember this. Despite me—and that little rowdy boy—you got the chance. No, correction—" he leaned forward again, smirking, "—you made the chance. So, you'll sort things out. Because if not you… then who?"
Aria couldn't help it—a small, crooked smile tugged at her lips. She looked away, trying to hide it. "Thanks… for the motivation."
"Good." Das pushed himself up from the chair, groaning like his bones ached. He reached behind a stack of dusty books, pulling out another bottle of liquor with a practiced hand. He tucked it under his arm, flashing her a careless grin. "You're welcome. Now, I'll leave. Got some things to settle."
He headed toward the door, footsteps dragging slightly.
"Bye!" Aria called after him, her voice half exasperation, half genuine warmth.
Das just raised a lazy hand without turning back, and the staff room door shut behind him.
The staff room felt emptier once Das left, the faint echo of his laughter still lingering in the air. Aria sat there for a moment longer, staring at the chair he had just vacated. Her hands rested on her knees, fingers twisting absently, as if she could wring the answers out of her own skin.
Finally, she stood. The afternoon light was spilling in through the cracked windows, bright and warm, but inside her chest it felt heavy, like carrying a stone.
The corridors of KHSS were quieter than usual, most students holed up in their classrooms or outside in the yard. Aria didn't stop to greet anyone. She just walked—fast, determined—as if the longer she stayed in the building, the tighter the walls would close in around her.
When she stepped out through the school gate, the sun was still high, its rays glinting on the dusty road. It was too early to head home, too early to vanish, but Aria didn't care. She wasn't in the mood to explain herself to anyone. She flagged down a passing taxi, slid inside, and let the silence of the ride carry her away.
By the time she pushed open the door of her house, the quiet was almost a relief. She tossed her bag down, peeled off her crumpled uniform, and stepped into the bathroom. The water hit her skin, washing away the dirt and sweat, but it didn't wash away the voices echoing in her head.
What's the point of this?
You just blocked the only way we used to make money.
Nothing's going to change.
Each voice cut through her thoughts, like a chorus that refused to stop. She pressed her forehead against the cool tile, whispering to herself. "I'll find something… I have to."
After her bath, she slipped into fresh clothes and sat at her study table. Her books were stacked neatly in the corner, papers scattered across the surface. She pulled one closer, tapping a pen against it, trying to sketch out numbers, plans—anything that could silence the doubts. But her focus wavered. The questions from her classmates clung to her mind, louder than her own ideas.
A soft knock at the door broke her trance.
"Aria?" The voice was warm, familiar—the voice that had been her anchor for years. Her nanny.
Aria looked up. "Come in."
The door creaked open, and her nanny peeked inside, smiling faintly. "I'm going to visit one of my oldest friends," she said gently. "Don't stay in this house alone, hmm? You came home early today… Will you come with me?"
Aria hesitated. A part of her wanted to stay buried in the papers, keep thinking until she broke through the problem. But the weariness in her chest told her otherwise.
She nodded softly. "Okay."
Her nanny's face brightened, and soon Aria was pulling on a light jacket and tying her hair back. Together, they stepped outside, flagging down another taxi.
The ride was quiet, but comfortable. Aria leaned her head against the window, watching the scenery shift—the streets buzzing with late afternoon life, children chasing one another, vendors calling out their sales, the smell of roasted peanuts drifting in from a corner stall.
After a short while, the taxi rolled to a stop in front of a modest house. It wasn't large, not polished, but it had a certain warmth. The walls were faded, the garden small but well-kept, the kind of place that looked lived in, cared for.
Her nanny smiled as she paid the driver. "This is her place," she said softly, almost with nostalgia.
Aria stepped out of the taxi, taking in the sight of the small, average house. Something about it felt grounding—different from the suffocating air of KHSS, different from the weight of her study table.