Rohit stirred at the soft sensation brushing his cheek.
He opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was a beautiful face leaning close to him—it was Ragini, kissing him on the cheek.
She seemed startled to see him awake but quickly composed herself and, with a faint smile, said, "You're really light, huh? Didn't think a gentle touch could wake you this fast."
She was about to pull away, but Rohit caught her hands and drew her closer. Her soft curves rested lightly on his chest, her lips just inches from his own.
He could feel her uneven breaths, her excitement clear from that single pull. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, and he could feel the damp strands of her hair against his shoulder without even looking.
She smelled fresh.
The faint fragrance of soap and the smoothness of her skin told him she had recently bathed. She must have decided to pay him a short visit and ended up stealing a kiss while sitting near his bed.
With a smile, he said, "What you were doing is called stealing. If you really want to give something, shouldn't you hand it over when the person's awake?"
She leaned toward his cheek again, but he turned his head away. When she adjusted to aim for it again, he positioned his lips in her path.
Her lips curved into a smile, and she gave him a quick peck on the lips.
Only then did he release her, watching her carefully.
A day ago, such a thing would have been impossible. The very thought might have been considered an unimaginable taboo. But now, for them, it had become a shared reality—one kept in secrecy.
Rohit sensed the change in her. Before, she had felt like a distant wall, her emotions guarded. Now, she was like a flower whose very presence filled his heart with warmth.
She pinched his nose. "When did you become so mature?"
Rohit smirked. He couldn't tell her that while his body was eighteen, his soul was in its mid-forties. Technically, they were the same age group. All he could do was act, so he said with a wink, "Maybe I've been influenced by your presence."
She pinched his nose in adoration. "Getting naughty so early in the morning? Don't forget, in this relationship, I'm still your mom."
He shot back in the same playful tone, "And don't forget what we did last—"But before he could finish, her soft palm pressed against his lips. "You're getting late for school. Come down after you're ready."
He stretched and sat up, only to realise he was hard. She caught his look and smirked as she neared the door. "Don't try to take advantage of your medical problem. I know it can go down just fine with more time," she said with a laugh, giggling at the sight of the obvious tent under his blanket.
His gaze drifted to the clock—already 9 a.m. Late. But Ragini casually mentioned she'd spoken to the principal, so he could arrive whenever he was ready.
It irritated him more than it should have. He knew school was important, yet some instinct in him wanted to complain. Still, he swallowed it down.
As he pulled the blanket away, Ragini's eyes widened. She clearly hadn't expected him to be sleeping naked. She quickly turned and left.
Rohit smirked again, looking down at himself in his "proud form." But then his mood soured as it was surrounded by a wild mess of hair.
With a sigh, he went to the bathroom. While reaching for his toothbrush, his eyes fell on a small jar. A memory from the body's previous owner clicked into place.
It wasn't just any jar—it was the reason for his hardness. The label read, in bold letters: Japanese Oil. Supposedly for enlarging size, "ayurvedically mixed."
He couldn't help laughing. In his previous life, he had never even heard of such oil, and now here it was, named after his own country—what a joke.
Of course, he knew the real reason behind any size increase. Back at twenty-one, his martial mentor had taught him kegel exercises—those had added perhaps an inch at most, but the results were real.
If this body had been using the oil alongside the exercises for the past two years during its teenage years, the effect made sense.
And he knew exactly why. Two years ago, this body's previous owner had overheard someone say that size mattered to girls. Not wanting to face embarrassment in front of his crush, Rohit had started the routine.
Chuckling, Rohit tucked the jar back into its place, shut the bathroom door, and went about his business.
A few moments later,
Rohit donned his new set of duplicate uniform clothes and checked his reflection in the mirror. He looked sharp in the crisp white shirt and brown pants, topped with a well-fitting red blazer and matching red tie.
He looked… good. Handsome, even.
His eyes then fell on the bag resting on the study table. Fortunately, his previous body owner had already packed it, so he slung it over his shoulder and headed out.
Waiting outside was Chanu, the lady bodyguard. She greeted him with a polite, "Good morning, young master," and informed him that Madam was waiting downstairs. As they headed down, he was surprised to hear faint chatter from the living room.
Following her, Rohit was surprised to see several people gathered in the living room.
Descending the staircase, his gaze swept over the space. The large room was divided into two sections—one side set for dining, the other arranged with sofas and chairs.
On one couch sat his twin cousins. The short-haired one was busy thumbing away at her phone, while the long-haired one sat with headphones on, eyes fixed on her tablet while chewing something.
Both wore the same school uniform as him, though their skirts were shorter than the standard length.
The short-haired one was Tanya, known for her rebellious and bold nature. The long-haired sister, Aisha, was quieter but no less troublesome. Both had reputations as gold diggers with chaotic minds.
On the other side, he saw Ragini, reading the newspaper in her usual attire.
He thought to himself that with her looks and figure, she was better suited to be a news anchor than wasting her talents as a housewife.
Nearby, three regular servants stood beside Ragini, including one middle-aged maid. Two other bodyguards flanked her on the other side, and even a security guard stood behind her for some reason.
He recalled everyone from his inherited memories.
The family's head servant was Hari Kaka — "Kaka" meaning uncle — which had become his surname.
The rest of the servants' names didn't stick with him, except for Meera Bai, the maid. The two bodyguards were new; he didn't recognize them but noticed they were older and seemed more experienced than Chanu.
As he came down, Tanya suddenly threw her arms around him. "Yo cousin! I missed you so much."
She deliberately pressed her curves against him, hoping to get the usual disgusted reaction. But this Rohit was different — he remained unfazed.
Ragini shot up with a warning glare. "Tanya, behave! He's lost his memories."
Tanya's face fell, realizing her mistake. "Oh… sorry, Aunty. Slipped my mind."
From behind, Aisha blew a bubble with her chewing gum and muttered, "No fun."
Ragini sighed deeply. If it weren't for family ties, she might have kicked them out by now. Instead, she held herself together and began introducing Rohit to everyone, one by one.
Unfortunately, his elder sister was still getting ready for work, so she wasn't there, and his father was away on a month-long trip.
Both his uncle and aunt lived in their own flats, and a male cousin stayed elsewhere—none of which particularly mattered to him, though he kept up the act of polite interest, maintaining his cover of "memory loss."
The bodyguard assigned to take them to school was Balwinder, easy to spot with his turban and sharp features.
With his usual authoritative tone, Balwinder said, "For the last time"—he paused to let his voice settle in—"check that you have your cell phones, watches, ID cards, and purses with you."
Rohit suddenly remembered he had left his phone upstairs. Ragini offered to send someone to fetch it, but he insisted on going himself.
As he was about to head up, Tanya called out teasingly, "Oye, hero, don't trip on the stairs or we might have to miss school." Her sarcasm was obvious, but he ignored it and rushed to his room.
Luckily, the door was already open—or so he thought.
The moment he stepped inside, he froze.
Standing in the middle of the room was a young woman in her early twenties, pale-skinned, topless, examining her breasts in the mirror.
His eyes instinctively took in the sight—her breasts seemed fluffy and round, perfectly bouncing in the palm of her hand. Her pinkish nipples looked adorable.
But before he could even process what he was seeing, her sudden glare met his stunned eyes.
She caught him looking, startled, and in a flash grabbed the teddy bear from nearby and hurled it at his face, screaming, "You damn pervert! Get the fuck out of my room!"