After every battle, there's always a strange lull—a peace that often births a darkness deeper than the last. Today seemed like just another day to most people. Outside, the world was alive with the gentle hum of early morning sounds. Birds chirped, joggers filled the park, and cyclists trinkled their bells, weaving through paths as the sun climbed higher. But for Veer, the calm only served as a sharp contrast to the chaos he felt within.
He woke up with an unfamiliar weight pressing on his mind. The previous night's events looped relentlessly in his head, leaving him mentally drained. It should have felt like a victory—he'd managed to twist the conspiracy back on his opponent and walked away unscathed. At first, he'd felt a rush of triumph on the way home. But the closer he'd gotten, the more a voice in his head began to whisper doubts, taunting him like a devil lurking in his own mind.
"You got out alive… but so what? You told him your name. He killed a man in cold blood, didn't hesitate for a second. What will he do when he finds out you're nothing but a liar?"
"Ah, this is so messed up," Veer muttered, rubbing his temples. "Should have just stayed home, read some fanfiction, and skipped the whole stupid night out."
Feeling restless, he headed to the shower, letting the hot water scald his skin until the sensation grounded him, clearing his mind. Eventually, he wrapped a towel around his waist and looked into the mirror. His eyes seemed a little darker, a little more worn than yesterday, as if they reflected the weight of everything still clawing at his conscience.
"Take a deep breath," he told himself, letting his shoulders relax. "This isn't the end of the world. You're still alive."
As he gathered himself, he began running through last night's events.
"Think—what was my mistake? The guy's name was Arjun. He killed that man without hesitation… but he didn't kill me. He tried to frame me instead. Maybe he needed a fall guy or didn't want more trouble. Either way, he's smart but sloppy. Either he was drunk, or he's used to handling messes like this…"
A loud knock interrupted his thoughts, followed by Rupa's familiar voice calling from the other side of the door. "Veer, are you alright? You've been in there for ages! Madam and Sonia are waiting for you at the dining table."
"I'm fine, Rupa," he called back, snapping out of his thoughts. "I'll be down in a minute."
---
Ten minutes later, Veer joined Sheena and Sonia at the breakfast table. He greeted them casually, settling into his seat, but his mind was still tangled in the previous night's events. Sonia noticed him spacing out, so she leaned in, trying to snap him out of it with a joke.
"Veer, you look like you've seen a ghost. Are you sure you're not off on some secret mission?" she teased with a playful smirk.
Veer barely glanced up, muttering that he was fine, which only made Sonia more determined. "You know, that face you're making could give someone nightmares," she quipped.
Finally, Veer looked up, giving her a faint, sarcastic grin. "You know, when you eat, you're supposed to be quiet and savor the food. Helps with digestion. But with that face, I guess pimples won't make much of a difference."
Sheena chuckled at their banter, glad to see a hint of Veer's usual spirit returning. The moment lightened the atmosphere, grounding Veer and allowing him to forget his worries, if only for a while.
---
It was a Saturday, and Veer had no obligations for the day. Eager to clear his head, he decided to head to the beach. By mid-morning, he'd arrived at the shoreline, breathing in the salty air and feeling the soft sand underfoot. The beach was buzzing with life: kids running through the shallow waves, groups of friends lounging under umbrellas, and people walking along the shoreline, lost in thought. The rhythmic crash of the waves against the sand seemed to wash away some of his lingering stress.
Veer wandered around, watching a group of surfers catch waves and seeing families set up picnics nearby. He lost himself in the scenery, letting the bright colors and lively sounds distract him from his worries. After a couple of hours, he made his way through the busy city streets, feeling the weight of the past night begin to lift, if only slightly.
As the day wore on and evening approached, he decided it was time to head home. It was around 6 p.m. when he boarded the crowded train, along with a throng of people finishing their workdays. The train was packed, commuters standing shoulder to shoulder, and the soft buzz of tired conversations filled the car. Veer found himself a spot near the doors, observing the crowd as they swayed with the motion of the train.
Just as he was about to tune out, he noticed a young kid—barely a teenager—hovering near a middle-aged man engrossed in his newspaper. Veer's instincts kicked in as he realized what the boy was up to: he was trying to steal the man's wallet, his hand inching closer with each passing second.
Veer felt a pang of worry for the boy, thinking he'd surely get caught and beaten if someone noticed. He tried moving closer, but the thick crowd made it difficult to reach him in time. The boy's fingers finally slipped into the man's pocket, extracting the wallet just as the train came to a halt. Veer strained to see through the sea of people, but before he could close the distance, the boy had already pocketed the wallet and slipped through the crowd, passing it discreetly to another man with a quick, practiced move.
The wallet continued down the line, handed off between at least four different people in a coordinated fashion, each exchange smooth and almost imperceptible. Veer watched, a strange mix of curiosity and frustration filling him as he witnessed the well-executed theft unfold before his eyes. It was like something out of a heist film—quick, synchronized, and, unfortunately, flawless.
By the time he managed to push through the crowd. the young thief didn't hold onto the wallet for long. With a quick, practiced movement, he passed it to another kid standing nearby, who slipped it effortlessly into his pocket and moved deeper into the crowded train station. Veer watched carefully, keeping a low profile and trying not to draw attention as he followed the wallet's journey through the station.
The wallet was passed with a fluid, almost choreographed ease, from one set of hands to another—children, beggars, each seemingly oblivious to what they were handling. Not a single one tried to peek inside; they just took it and moved it along, each with an unspoken understanding of their role in the chain.
As the wallet neared the exit, it was handed off to an older beggar who, without even pausing, placed it into a small compartment on the back of a cyclist's delivery bike. The cyclist, who appeared to be a delivery guy for one of the local food stalls, loaded up his bike with cutlery and boxes before casually riding off. Veer could only shake his head, watching this intricate web of coordination unfold.
Veer continued following the cyclist as he pedaled slowly, looking almost unaware of the precious cargo tucked away on his bike. The delivery guy finally stopped half a mile from the station at a small shop. Veer watched from a distance as a kid—no older than twelve—ran up to the shop owner, who wrapped the wallet discreetly in a newspaper before handing it over to the child. The boy, clutching the disguised wallet, headed around the back of the shop, weaving through the alley where people bustled and blocked Veer's path.
Realizing he couldn't follow without exposing himself, Veer stopped in his tracks, staring after the boy's disappearing figure. His mouth hung open slightly in astonishment, and only one thought managed to break through the shock:
"What in the actual fuck…"
This entire operation was far more sophisticated than he could have ever imagined. It was as if he'd glimpsed into a hidden world where even the most innocent-looking faces played roles in a far-reaching network. The memory of the night before resurfaced—of Arjun's ruthless crime and how easily he'd dragged Veer into the dark underworld of the city. Veer couldn't help but wonder: had he just scratched the surface of something much bigger?