Anokhi's POV
I worked late today. Too late.
Every muscle in my body complained. My head was pounding, my shoulders were stiff, and the only thing keeping me upright was the thought of getting home. But no, I had to buy groceries. Because apparently, survival requires food.
I grabbed whatever I needed in the store, barely thinking, and headed out with two heavy bags in each hand.
That's when I saw them.
Two men. One girl. And their body language? Off.
I didn't stop to think.
Bags dropped.
"Hey!" I yelled, already striding toward them.
One of them turned, clearly not expecting a fight. Too bad. I got the first hit in. The second one tried to grab me, but I elbowed him hard in the gut.
I'd like to say I handled both on my own. I almost did. But more showed up—because of course they did.
Then someone else joined in. A man. No dramatic entry, just fists flying. Efficient. Calm. Looked like this wasn't his first street fight.
Between us, they were down in under a minute.
One was still standing, but my mysterious co-fighter took care of that. I turned to the girl.
"You okay?" I asked, crouching a bit.
She nodded quickly, eyes wide and clearly shaken.
Chamgadar—yes, that's what I mentally called him, since he just swooped in out of nowhere—walked over. "You both fine?" he asked, calm like he'd just returned from a jog.
The girl flinched and shuffled behind me.
I stood. "She's scared. I'm fine."
He crouched down, voice gentler now. "Hey, you're safe. Don't worry."
"Where are your parents?" I asked her.
"I don't have any," she said quietly.
"Where do you live then?"
"With Dadi."
"Do you know how to get home?" I asked.
She nodded. "Red Cross Orphanage."
That, at least, I knew.
"I'll take her," I said. Then, I don't know why, but I looked at him. "Coming?"
He tilted his head, thinking for a second. "Yeah. Safer if we both go."
"I can handle it."
"I saw," he said. "Still coming."
The orphanage wasn't far. We walked in silence, the girl sticking close to my side. When we entered, an elderly woman rushed forward.
"Namaste, Dadi," I said.
She paused, looked at me, then at the girl. "Ankita! Kahan thi tum?" Her voice was sharp, worried.
"I found her near the main road," I said quickly. "Thought I'd bring her back."
Dadi shook her head, clearly relieved. "Pagal ladki," she muttered, hugging the child.
I nodded and stepped back. "She's safe. That's all."
We walked out. The night air felt cooler now, a bit calmer.
He was still beside me.
"Nice moves back there," I said, mostly to break the silence.
"You weren't bad either," he replied. "You always fight random men in parking lots?"
"Only when they deserve it."
He smirked. "Sherni ho bilkul."
"Sherni?" I frowned.
"Yeah. Fierce. Claws out. No nonsense."
I rolled my eyes. "And you? What should I call someone who drops in mid-fight, says five words, and disappears?"
He waited.
"Chamgadar," I said flatly.
His head turned sharply. "Bat?!"
"Silent. Sudden. Slightly annoying."
He blinked. "That's harsh."
I shrugged. "Earn a better name next time."
We stopped outside my building.
"Well, this is it," I said.
He nodded once. "Alright then, Sherni."
"Chamgadar."
And with that, I walked in, and shut the door behind me.
End of story.