Suddenly the classroom door swung open, the buzzing chatters of the classroom instantly turn silent. All eyes turned toward the class entrance, it was their class teacher, in a simple saree, holding a book and a register copy in her hand. She was a woman in her mid-forties with an air of wisdom and calm authority. Her expression one of knowledge and patience, the kind that came from years of experience.
Following her entered a new face, a boy, somewhat taller than her, he could only walk slowly using an elbow crutch to support his right leg. His movements were careful and deliberate, the sharp click of the clutch against the floor echoing through the silent classroom. He wore the same uniform as the others, a light blue shirt with a school emblem neatly embroidered on the chest and black pants, yet something about him felt distinctly different.
At first glance, he seemed like an ordinary guy with a decant looking face, and a quiet demeanor. Yet there was an inexplicable aura about him, and his present sending a chill through Manash's and Aunika's spine, it was like they can sense that he was not any ordinary person.
As the teacher reached the front of the room, everyone stood up to greet her. "Good morning, ma'am" they chorused, including Manash and Arunika, they composed themselves.
But Sristi frozen in her seat, her wide eyes fixed on the new student, as if he were the embodiment of her deepest fears. Her entire body seemed locked in place, trembling ever so slightly. Her breathing came in shallow, uneven gasps, each one more laboured than the last, as though the very act of breathing had become a battle. She looked like a helpless, cornered animal staring down its predator. Her complexion turned so pale that it seemed as though all life had drained from her, and for a moment, it looked like she might collapse.
Manash, seated directly behind her, noticed her distress immediately. His concern deepened as he leaned forward and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Sristi, calm down," he whispered, his voice soft but firm. "Everything's fine. Just take a deep breath and stand up."
Sristi was still trembling, but with Manash words she composed herself. With her trembling hands she gripped the edge of her desk tightly, her knuckles white with the strain. She struggled against the suffocating wave of fear gripping her.
Bit by bit, she found enough strength to push herself to her feet, leaning on the desk for her support as her breath came in short, ragged gasps.
The teacher unaware of Sristi's distress, "Good morning, everyone. Please take your seats now," she instructed, her tone was calm.
Once everyone was seated, she draws everyone's attention to the new student, "Class! this is Akshay, due to some reason he had to transfer here. I know it's a bad time for a student to transfer, so I want you to help him as much as you can, and threat him well."
"And Akshay, you also consider them as your new friends," the teacher said to Akshay, the new student.
"Yes, ma'am" Akshay responded, in a polite manner.
The teacher then scanned the room noticing that in Manash's bench there were only two students sitting. "Akshay, you can sit with Manash" she instructed, pointing toward Manash. "And Manash, help him out, okay?"
"Yes, ma'am" Manash stood up and respond.
As Akshay slowly with the steady aid of his crutch made his way toward Manash's bench. Many students cast fleeting glances in his direction, their expressions tinged with sympathy for the new boy who clearly struggled to walk normally. But not everyone shared the same sentiment.
Sristi who was already paralyzed by fear at his arrival, every deliberate step Akshay took toward the bench, felt like the ticking of a countdown to her doom. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, each beat louder than the last, drowning out the low murmurs of the classroom. Time seemed to stretch unbearably, each second dragging on as though it, too, conspired against her.
The rhythmic tap of Akshay's crutch against the floor echoed in her mind, each sound striking her like a hammer. It was deliberate and steady, as if announcing his presence with cruel precision.
When Akshay finally reached the bench, Manash shifted slightly, offering him some space. Akshay nodded his thanks, lowering himself into the seat with deliberate care. "Thank you" he said softly, a polite smile on his face.
The simple exchange passed unnoticed by most, but not by Sristi. To her, it was as if the air itself had thickened, pressing down on her chest with suffocating weight. She sat rigidly in her seat, her back stiff, her breaths shallow and erratic. Her pallor deepened until her face was ghostly white, beads of cold sweat forming on her brow.
Every instinct screamed at her to run, to flee the room and put as much as distance as possible between herself and Akshay. Yet she was frozen, her body betraying her, unable to even turn her head to look.
The teacher's sharp gaze fell on her. Frowning in concern, she stepped closer. "Sristi, are you alright?" she asked gently. "You don't look well."
Sristi opened her mouth to respond, to form words, but nothing came. Her lips trembled, but her voice was trapped in the grip of her fear.
"Sristi?" the teacher pressed, her concern deepening. "Please, come here. Let me take a look at you."
The words seemed distant to Sristi, drowned out by the roaring in her ears. Still, she forced herself to move, her legs trembling beneath her weight. She gripped the edge of her desk for support as she stood, her legs weak and unsteady. The room swayed seemed to tilt and sway, the colours blurring together as she tries to take a step forward.
But she didn't make it.
Her strength gave way at that point, and her body crumpled to the floor with a thud. A sharp gasp escaped the students around her. Her consciousness slipping away into darkness
"Sristi!"
Riya and the teacher rushed to her side, panic evident in their movements. The classroom fell into a shocked uneasy silence, the previous chatter replaced by an oppressive stillness that seemed to suffocate the air.
Vani, Arunika, and several other students hurried over, their faces pale with concern, their curiosity mingled with genuine worry.
Even Akshay, despite his physical limitations, gripping his crutch tightly made an effort to stand quickly, his eyes narrowing as he moved toward the commotion.
Riya with swift movement went back to her bag and grabbed her water bottle, unscrewing the cap with trembling hand. Carefully, she dripping water onto Sristi's pale face, "Sristi, wake up," she murmured desperately, her voice breaking.
But there was no response. Her breathing remained shallow, her unconscious form limp and unresponsive.
"Riya, take her to the medical office immediately," the teacher instructed, her voice firm but steady anchor amidst the chaos. "Vani, go with her. I'll join you shortly."
"Yes, ma'am," Riya and Vani responded in unison. Moving with care, they gently lifted Sristi, each supporting her weight on one side. Their movements were careful but quick as they made their way out of the classroom, heading for the medical room.
All eyes in the classroom followed their every step, the tense silence broken only by the faint sound of Sristi's uneven breaths. The usually lively classroom now felt heavy, the early buzz of energy replaced by a foreboding quiet.
The teacher straightened, her sharp gaze sweeping over the remaining students the class, her expression stern. "Everyone, return to your seats," she commanded, her tone brooked no argument. Slowly, reluctantly the gathered students returning to their desks in hushed murmurs.
As the room settled, Manash exchanged a worried glance with Bikram. His mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle. His guts told him that Sristi's collapse was no ordinary fainting spell. The timing, her intense fear, and Akshay's arrival, everything to something much deeper and Darker.
Manash's gaze flicked toward Akshay, who now sat quietly, his expression calm yet unreadable. The boy seemed almost detached, as though the incident hadn't affected him at all. But there was something in his eyes, a quite intensity that sent a chill down Manash's spine as the questions churned in his mind.
His instincts screamed that Akshay wasn't just another new student. There was a connection between him and Sristi, something that had shaken her to the core.
But what was it? And Who was Akshay really?
And why did his present feel like a storm waiting to unleash its fury?