Morning sunlight streamed through the spotless window, flooding the room with a quiet, steady glow.
Beside it, Priyanka sat in her comfortable chair, lifting her cup and taking a slow sip of green tea. The tea bag drifted in the hot water, rising and sinking lazily.
'Hmm… what a peaceful start to the day. No emergencies. Just sunlight and hot tea.
It would be perfect if this little nuisance wasn't sitting in front of me.'
Her gaze shifted.
Amitesh sat across from her, smiling far too brightly for this hour.
She took another measured sip.
"So why are you here this early? You've been coming here for three days straight now—wandering around, sniffing iodine and medicine like some kind of addict."
"Oh come on, Miss Priyanka. Don't be so harsh. I'm just keeping you company."
"Why do you always sound like that? Can't you be a little serious for once?"
"You want serious? Fine."
Amitesh leaned forward. His elbows rested on his knees. He clasped his fingers together, chin settling over his knuckles. The smile faded.
"So, Doctor. Let's get to business. I want to know about this Fire Force gang—and why you people are afraid to take direct action."
Priyanka exhaled sharply.
"That tone doesn't suit you. Change it back. I can't handle your sudden shift—from clumsy boy to calculating man. Go back to normal."
"Huh? You're the one who told me to be serious. Don't ruin my rhythm—I was just getting into character."
"Drop it," she said flatly. "It doesn't suit your face. It looks unsettling. And I already deal with enough kids at home."
Amitesh leaned back, the intensity dissolving as quickly as it had formed.
He dragged a hand through his hair and clicked his tongue.
"Come on, Doc… seriously?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"Fine," he mutttern
He straightened slightly, pointing at her with lazy confidence.
"I'll handle Roha and Riya for today. You won't have to worry about them. In return, you answer my questions."
He tilted his head.
"Deal?"
Priyanka took another slow sip.
"Deal."
Amitesh's smile widened.
"So where are they? It's been a while since I've seen them."
"They're grounded. Three months straight," she replied calmly. "After what they pulled last time, I've been locking the house from the outside for the past few days."
Amitesh let out a low whistle.
"That must be torture for those two."
"If they're safe, I don't care how bored they are."
She drained the last of her tea, set the cup down with a soft click, and rose from her chair. Without another word, she walked toward the counter.
This time, she filled the kettle again and placed two cups on the table.
"I'm not really a fan of tea in the morning… but fine, let's go with it."
He lifted the cup and swallowed the entire thing in one reckless gulp.
A second later—
"Ah—ah—! My tongue is burning!"
He fanned his mouth, eyes watering, shoulders jerking as he sucked in sharp breaths.
Priyanka stared at him, eyes widening in disbelief.
"Did you seriously just…?"
She pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled.
"Unbelievable. Next time, drink it slowly."
Amitesh stuck his tongue out slightly, still fanning his mouth.
"It attacked me," he muttered. "You saw it."
"It's tea," Priyanka replied dryly. "Not a wild animal."
He wiped the corner of his eye and straightened, clearing his throat as if nothing had happened.
"Right. Anyway. Fire Force."
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she took her time stirring her second cup, the spoon circling slowly against porcelain.
"You're pushing into things you don't understand," she said at last.
"Then help me understand."
Her eyes lifted to him—calm, steady.
"The Fire Force isn't just some street gang. They control supply lines.
Medicine. Fuel. Security routes. If we move directly against them without preparation, people lose access to all of that."
Amitesh's expression sharpened again, but this time without theatrics.
"So you're scared of the fallout."
"I'm cautious of the consequences."
He leaned back in his chair, gaze drifting toward the window as morning light cut across his face.
"And how long do you plan to stay cautious?"
"Well… no idea, honestly," Priyanka said. "The moment they got their hands on that uranium box, they warned us to stay away—or they'd open it. You know even a small amount is enough to cause massive damage."
Amitesh's eyes narrowed.
"And you're all this calm? There's basically a time bomb sitting next to you."
"Relax." She took a slow sip. "Do you really think they'd open it?"
He didn't answer.
"First, it's a reinforced containment box. Not something you just crack open with a hammer. Second…" She set the cup down carefully. "The person who tries to open it would be the first to die."
Amitesh watched her closely.
"So you're betting on their self-preservation."
"I'm betting on their greed," she corrected. "It's leverage. Not a suicide switch."
"So all I have to do is steal their guns, grab the uranium box, and then you all step in and 'handle the rest'?"
"Exactly."
Amitesh blinked at her.
"Exactly?" He leaned forward slowly.
"You're basically using me as a suicide boy."
Priyanka didn't flinch.
"No. If we were using you, you wouldn't be sitting here drinking my tea."
"Your lava," he muttered, rubbing his tongue again.
She ignored that.
"You're the only one who can move in and out without triggering their attention. They don't see you as a threat."
"That's insulting."
"It's useful."
He stared at her, searching for hesitation. He found none.
"You're asking me to walk into an armed group's territory, disarm them, steal radioactive material, and walk out like I went for groceries."
"When you say it like that, it sounds dramatic."
"It is dramatic."
A faint, almost invisible smile touched her lips.
"And yet," she said calmly, "you're still considering it."
He let out an exaggerated sigh.
"Ahh… fine. Give me the keys."
Priyanka's mood shifted instantly. A bright, almost victorious smile spread across her face as she reached into her bag and pulled out a small keyring. The metal clinked softly as she held it out to him.
"Sure. Keep them until evening. Building B, third floor, room twenty-three."
Amitesh took the keys, weighing them in his palm.
"What a memorable address," he said lightly. "I'll make sure not to forget it."
The keys jingled as Amitesh flipped them around his finger.
"Building B. Third floor. Room twenty-three," he repeated, committing it to memory. "You trust me a lot."
"I trust your survival instinct," Priyanka corrected. "And the fact that Roha and Riya listen to you more than they listen to me."
"That's because I don't threaten them with three-month lockdowns."
"They earned it."
He stood up, sliding the keys into his pocket. The playful air around him thinned slightly.
"Anything I should know before I walk into the lion's den?"
"It's not a lion's den," she said. "It's an apartment with two extremely bored, highly energetic children."
"That's worse."
She crossed her arms, studying him.
"They'll test you. Don't try to outsmart them. They'll take it as a challenge."
"I am offended you think I can't handle two kids."
"I think you can handle criminals better than children."
He paused.
"…That might be true."
For a brief moment, the room settled into silence again. Sunlight shifted across the floor, stretching longer now, brushing against the edge of the table.
Amitesh moved toward the door but stopped with his hand on the handle.
"One more thing."
Priyanka raised her eyes.
"If this Fire Force situation explodes while I'm babysitting—"
"It won't."
"And if it does?"
She met his gaze steadily.
"Then don't be a hero."
He held her stare for a second longer than usual, searching for something beneath her calm tone. Worry. Fear. Manipulation.
He found none.
Just calculation.
He opened the door.
"You really are using me," he muttered.
"You volunteered."
The door clicked shut behind him.
Priyanka remained standing for a few seconds, listening to his footsteps fade down the hallway. Only then did her expression soften. She picked up her cup again—but didn't drink.
Instead, she looked toward the window, sunlight no longer feeling as peaceful as it had an hour ago.
---
He stopped in front of Room 23.
The brass numbers gleamed under the corridor light, polished so clean they almost reflected his face.
Amitesh stared at them for a second.
"She really is a doctor… and maybe an OCD patient," he muttered under his breath. "Who polishes their door numbers this often?"
He leaned slightly closer, squinting at his faint reflection in the metal.
"I'm starting to feel like I've been living in a cave."
The hallway itself was spotless—no dust near the edges, no random shoe marks, even the doormat aligned perfectly with the frame. Everything looked measured. Intentional.
He adjusted his jacket and knocked twice.
A pause.
Then a faint shuffle from inside.
Another pause.
A soft click.
The lock turned.
"Mom? Did you come home?"
"Nah. It's me. Your favorite big brother."
A second later—
"Big brother!"
The door flew open and Riya launched herself at him without hesitation.
Amitesh reacted instantly, catching her mid-air before she could crash into his chest. He lifted her easily, spinning her once before setting her back down.
"You're getting heavier," he said.
"That's rude."
From inside the apartment, another voice called out.
"Don't tell me Mom hired you to teach us," Roha said as she walked into view, arms crossed. "I'm already bored enough. I'm not doing extra classes."
Amitesh stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
"Relax. I'm not here to teach."
Riya grabbed his sleeve, already trying to drag him further in.
"Then why are you here?"
He looked at both of them, a slow grin spreading across his face.
"I'm here to make sure you don't burn the building down while you're grounded."
"That's also rude," Roha shot back. "Do you seriously think we'd burn the building down?"
Amitesh shrugged casually.
"No one knows the future. Better to stay cautious."
Riya bounced on her heels, unable to stand still for more than two seconds.
"Big brother, let's play games!" she said, hopping twice for emphasis.
He glanced between the two siblings.
Roha tried to look unimpressed—but her eyes betrayed interest.
"What kind of games?" Amitesh asked slowly.
"Anything!" Riya grabbed his hand again. "Board games, hide and seek, pillow fight—"
"No pillow fights," Roha cut in quickly.
"Last time she broke the lamp."
"It was weak," Riya defended.
Amitesh walked further into the living room, scanning the space automatically—windows, balcony door, corners, blind spots. Habit.
"Alright," he said, rolling his shoulders.
"We'll play something. But nothing that involves property damage, emergency repairs, or calling your mother."
Both of them groaned.
"You make games sound like military training," Roha muttered.
He smiled faintly.
"Trust me. My version is more fun."
Amitesh looked around the room, then clapped once.
"Alright. New rule. We're playing Mission Escape."
Roha narrowed her eyes. "That already sounds suspicious."
Riya gasped. "Is it dangerous?"
"Extremely," he said with a straight face.
"The floor is lava."
Riya immediately jumped onto the sofa.
Roha followed a second later. "That's such an old game."
"Not my version," Amitesh replied.
He grabbed cushions from the couch and tossed them across the room, spacing them unevenly. Then he pulled two chairs slightly apart and flipped a small table sideways.
"These are safe zones. You can only step on cushions, furniture, or anything above ground level. If you touch the floor, you restart."
"That's easy," Roha said confidently.
"Wait," he added. "There are moving hazards."
"Moving what?" Riya blinked.
He rolled his shoulders.
"Me."
Before they could react, he lunged toward the sofa. Both of them squealed and scrambled across the cushions, trying to maintain balance. Riya nearly slipped, but Roha grabbed her arm and yanked her upright.
"No floor!" Roha shouted.
Amitesh stalked around the "lava," deliberately slow, forcing them to think instead of panic.
"Your objective," he continued calmly, "is to reach the balcony door, grab that pillow, and return to the starting point. Without touching the ground. And without me tagging you."
"That's unfair!" Riya laughed.
"Life is unfair."
Roha calculated quickly, eyes scanning the room. "We move together. Distract him."
They split—Riya jumping to a chair, Roha hopping onto the armrest.
Amitesh darted toward Riya, forcing her to change direction mid-air. She shrieked, barely landing on a cushion.
Roha seized the opening, leaping from the sofa to the table edge. The table wobbled.
"Careful," Amitesh warned instinctively.
She steadied herself, then stretched for the balcony handle—
He pivoted fast, closing distance in two strides. Riya threw a cushion at him.
It hit his shoulder.
"Cheating!" he protested.
"Strategic defense!" Roha shot back.
Riya used the distraction to leap past him and grab the pillow first.
"Got it!"
"Return to base!" Roha ordered dramatically.
They scrambled back, jumping from chair to sofa to cushion, legs shaking now from effort. Amitesh chased just close enough to keep pressure on them.
Riya misjudged one step.
Her foot brushed the floor.
Both of them froze.
"Restart!" Amitesh declared mercilessly.
"Nooooo!" Riya groaned, collapsing onto the sofa.
Roha dropped beside her, breathing hard. "You're taking this way too seriously."
"You wanted a game."
They tried again.
And again.
Each round grew faster, louder, more chaotic. Cushions slid out of place. Chairs scraped. Riya's jumps got shorter. Roha's balance started to falter.
By the fourth round, both of them were panting.
Riya finally flopped onto the carpet—lava rules forgotten.
"I surrender," she said dramatically, staring at the ceiling.
Roha dropped beside her, chest rising and falling quickly. "This is not a normal game."
Amitesh stood in the middle of the room, barely winded, hands on his hips.
"You lasted fourty minutes," he said. "Impressive."
Riya lifted one arm weakly. "Water…"
Roha closed her eyes. "If Mom asks, we studied."
Amitesh chuckled and walked toward the kitchen.
"Rest, agents. Mission accomplished."
He returned with two glasses of water and handed one to each of them.
"Drink slowly," he said, crouching down beside them. "Your body's still heated up from all that running."
Riya grabbed the glass with both hands and gulped—
He gently tilted it down.
"Slowly," he repeated. "Not like the tea incident."
Roha smirked between breaths. "You burned your tongue again, didn't you?"
"That's not important."
"It is," he said, taking a controlled sip to prove a point.
Riya tried copying her, taking smaller mouthfuls this time. Her breathing gradually steadied.
The room, once full of shrieks and scrambling footsteps, settled into a quiet hum. Sunlight now stretched across the carpet, illuminating the mess of cushions and crooked chairs.
Roha stared at the ceiling.
"You're weirdly good at this," he said.
"At what?"
"Keeping things fun without letting them get out of control."
He leaned back on his hands, glancing at the rearranged battlefield.
"That's just balance."
Riya rolled slightly toward him, still tired but smiling.
"Big brother…"
"Hmm?"
"Can we play again after five minutes?"
He looked at both of them — flushed cheeks, damp hair sticking to their foreheads, eyes half-closed from exhaustion.
"We'll see," he said calmly.
But the next playtime never came.
Riya drifted off first, her glass slipping slightly in her hands before Amitesh gently took it away. Within seconds, her breathing deepened, face relaxed in complete surrender.
Roha tried to fight it.
"I'm not sleepy," he muttered.
Her eyes closed mid-sentence.
A minute later, he was out too.
Amitesh watched them for a moment, making sure they were truly asleep.
Then he carefully adjusted a cushion under Riya's head and pulled a light throw over both of them.
The battlefield remained.
Chairs tilted. Cushions scattered. The small table still sideways.
He stood up with a quiet exhale.
"At least they'll stay quiet now," he murmured.
He began restoring the room piece by piece. Cushions back to the sofa.
Chairs aligned. Table upright. He moved efficiently, leaving no trace of the chaos they'd created.
When he finished, the apartment looked almost untouched again.
Almost.
He glanced at the two sleeping figures on the floor.
The sunlight had shifted further now, falling across them in a warm stripe. Peaceful. Harmless.
For a brief second, his expression softened.
Then it hardened again.
His hand slipped into his pocket, brushing against the cold metal of the keys.
A knock echoed through the apartment.
Amitesh glanced once at the sleeping girls before walking to the door. He opened it quietly.
Priyanka stepped inside, her eyes immediately scanning the room out of habit.
Amitesh closed the door behind her and walked to the kitchen without a word. He poured a glass of water and handed it to her.
"Here."
She looked at the glass, then at him.
"Hey. Don't treat me like I'm a guest who walked into your house instead of mine," she said, though she took the water anyway.
"Hydration doesn't care about ownership," he replied calmly.
Her gaze shifted past him.
The cushions were back in place. Chairs aligned. The room clean.
Then she noticed the two figures on the floor.
"They're asleep?"
"Energy crash," he said. "Happens after intense missions."
She walked closer, kneeling beside them. For a brief moment, her professional composure slipped, replaced by something softer. She adjusted the blanket slightly.
"They didn't cause trouble?"
"Only structural damage to my reputation."
She stood back up, taking a sip of water.
"And you?" she asked. "Cause any trouble?"
"I don't like causing trouble," Amitesh said evenly. "But if I did… it wouldn't be something this stupid."
Priyanka's eyes narrowed slightly.
"That's not reassuring."
"It's not meant to be."
He leaned against the wall, arms folding loosely across his chest. His gaze shifted from the sleeping girls back to her.
"They're safe. That's what matters."
She studied him for a second longer than necessary, measuring the pause between his words.
"You didn't leave the apartment, did you?"
He raised an eyebrow. "You think I'd drag radioactive material through a children's corridor?"
"I think you're unpredictable."
"That's different."
A quiet silence settled between them.
Priyanka finished the water and handed him the empty glass.
"They didn't ask about the Fire Force, did they?"
"No," he said. "They asked for games."
Her shoulders eased slightly.
"Good."
Amitesh pushed off the wall and walked toward the window, pulling the curtain aside just enough to glance outside.
"You know," he said casually, "your building's security is average at best."
She crossed her arms. "Are you evaluating it or criticizing it?"
"Observing."
His eyes lingered outside a moment longer before the curtain fell back into place.
"Nothing unusual," he added.
Priyanka watched him carefully.
"You're thinking about it already, aren't you?"
Amitesh said nothing this time the air remain silent.
"Alright. I'll take my leave now," Amitesh said. "I need to train a certain lonely boy."
Priyanka gave him a look. "Take care."
"I will."
He stepped out quietly, closing the door without a sound.
The rooftop carried a steady evening breeze.
---
At the late evening at the roof top.
Amitesh and Arjun sat across from each other on the concrete floor, legs folded, the city stretching below them. The sun dipped low, casting long shadows behind them.
Amites broke the silence first.
"So… this girl. Kayaa. Do you know where I can find her alone?"
Arjun's eyes lifted slowly.
"For what exactly?"
Amitesh hesitated, then straightened his back slightly.
"I'll set things up for you," Amitesh said calmly. "You can propose properly. No interruptions. No chaos."
Arjun's brows pulled together. "Is that really necessary?"
"Yes," Amitesh replied without hesitation. "This is your chance. If you're going to do it, do it properly. Don't half-step it."
Arjun looked away toward the horizon, jaw tightening.
"And what if she says no?"
Amitesh leaned back on his hands, expression steady.
"Then at least you won't spend the rest of your life wondering."
"So where do you think we can find her alone?"
Arjun shifted his weight. "We usually meet behind the garden every Saturday. Agni keeps a close watch on her—it's hard to meet every day."
Amitesh raised an eyebrow. Then he stepped forward, grabbed Arjun by the collar, and yanked him closer.
He started shaking him.
"You idiot—what the hell do you think you've been doing? You meet her every Saturday, even though her brother is a gang leader, and she still shows up. Isn't it obvious? She likes you. How can you be this stupid?"
Arjun's head snapped back and forth with each shake.
Amitesh didn't stop.
"Now I'm absolutely sure she'll say yes. And honestly, her brother's doing the right thing—letting his sister meet someone as brain-dead as you."
"Stop—stop shaking me," Arjun groaned, trying to pry his hands free. "My head's spinning."
"What—wait. Today is Saturday. We have to be quick."
Before Arjun could react, Amitesh lifted him onto his shoulder.
All meridians active.
He took off at a sprint, moving like he was about to miss the last train. Each step sent a jolt through Arjun's body, his vision bouncing with every stride.
They reached the garden within minutes. The grass swayed under the evening wind, soft and restless.
Amitesh slowed to a stop and set him down.
"So, when will she come? Any idea?"
Arjun held his head. "No idea. My world's spinning. I'm about to pass out."
Amitesh glanced at him, then at the open space around them. "Fine. Until she comes, we practice."
"Practice what?" Arjun straightened, suspicious. "No. I'm not saying 'I love you' while imagining you as her. That's disgusting."
Amitesh looked at him like he'd just said something deeply disappointing. "I'm not asking you to do that. Just watch."
He stepped forward, then slowly went down on one knee. His fingers brushed the grass, plucking a thin blade.
"Oh, grass," he said, voice suddenly gentle, "you're so green… so soft. You shine when the moonlight falls on you, like you're trying to outdo the stars. Every time I lie on you, I forget everything else. All my worries disappear. I could spend my whole life like that."
He let the blade fall and turned to Arjun.
"See? Like this."
"Did you just confess to grass?"
"I didn't, you idiot. I was showing you how to express your feelings."
A voice drifted across the garden—soft, uncertain.
"Arjun… is that you?"
Both of them turned.
She stood a few steps away.
Red hair swayed with the wind. Moonlight caught in her golden eyes, making them glint. She watched them, hesitant, a mix of curiosity and unease on her face.
Amitesh shoved Arjun forward, then mouthed silently—do it.
Arjun stumbled a step, then forced himself closer. His heart pounded so hard he could hear it. Heat rushed to his face.
His hand went to the back of his neck, scratching.
"So… how are you, Kayaa?"
Kayaa looked at him, eyes soft. "I'm fine. How about you? I heard you got into a fight again."
"I'm fine."
Silence settled between them.
Arjun drew a shaky breath. "Kayaa… I want to tell you something."
Kayaa eyes diluted in anticipation.
"I'm listening."
"Ka… Kayaa, I love you. I've loved you since the first day we met. I want to be with you… for the rest of my life."
Kayaa lowered her gaze. Then she stepped forward—slow, careful, closing the distance.
Her hand rose.
SLAP!!!
A sharp crack cut echo through the garden.
The sudden turn left Amitesh stunned.
'Who says something like that? The worst she could've said was no.'