The Bhageshwar's Shop had always been a small but beloved landmark, famous in the neighborhood for its shelves crowded with stationery-bright pens, cartoon notebooks, glitter markers, and other little treasures that turned the place into a mini-museum for children. Every day, parents walked in dragging their excited kids, whose eyes widened at every colorful item displayed under the warm yellow lights.
I stood quietly in a corner, a basket in my hand. Of course, I was here for my daughter. I picked up a pencil decorated with soft pastel patterns and turned it between my fingers, imagining the little smile she'd give me when she saw it. She loved anything with cute designs. She'd definitely like this one.
As I glanced toward the counter, a man in a yellow T-shirt slipped inside. His expression was stiff, his jaw locked, eyes sharp and continuously scanning the room. He picked up an eraser and a pencil-nothing special-and walked to the counter.
"Pencil and eraser" he said. "Hope they work better than stabbing someone right in the chest."
His tone was calm, too calm, like he was talking about the weather.
The counterman gave a faint, nervous chuckle. "Sure, sir. You want the bill?"
"No. Just tell me the amount. I'll pay in cash."
Something about the man bothered me instantly. The restless way he shifted, the way his eyes darted around as though expecting someone to watch him. And each time he looked around, I instinctively turned away. Still, our eyes met twice-brief flashes, but enough to make my stomach tighten.
"Sir, it's three-fifty. Cash?" the counterman said.
"Yes." The man pulled out his wallet and handed over a five-hundred-rupee note for items that cost barely ten rupees.
As the counterman returned the change, I noticed something peculiar. He handed not only a small piece of paper but also a covered box-slipped discreetly between the pencil and eraser. The whole exchange was too smooth, too practiced.
The man left the shop. After a slow count of three, I walked out as well, keeping a safe distance. He moved cautiously, like someone who knew he was being tailed. I kept myself hidden among the few pedestrians, careful not to draw attention.
He stopped at a tea stall first. Ordered a cup. Drank slowly, eyes scanning around him in clipped, jittery motions. Then he moved on. His next stop was a small kiosk where people usually bought cigarettes, but he didn't smoke. Instead, he bought two packets of bubblegum and walked away.
I followed him through narrow lanes, my heart pounding yet steady. I observed everything-his gait, his posture, his shoulders slightly hunched, his jaw clenched as if holding back something dangerous. Every instinct in me buzzed with warning.
After a few turns, he suddenly halted. My breath hitched. Did he know? Did he realize I'd been following him?
He spun around. I quickly averted my gaze, pretending to talk through the headphones hanging from my neck.
"Hey, dude!" he called out.
The street had emptied. It was just the two of us now.
"Hey!" he shouted again.
This time, I looked at him.
⏳
"It's been a week, Kunal" Vishal said, leaning back in his chair with a frustrated exhale. His brows were drawn together, his voice sharp with impatience.
"So what? I can't magically produce CCTV footage that was hacked" Kunal replied without looking up. His fingers moved rapidly across his laptop keyboard, the screen's blue light reflecting in his focused eyes. "It takes time to de-hack something that's been messed with at that level."
"And what about the Reddit post?" Vishal asked.
Kunal paused for a moment-just a second-but it was enough to show he had been thinking about it too. He finally looked up at Vishal. "Is he active on any other social media?"
"Didn't check yet" Vishal admitted.
"Then what are you waiting for? We need a special tech team. Whoever this your *Kishi Vaitarna* guy is... he knows his way around technology a little too well" Kunal said, rubbing his forehead.
"Hm... but he's not my guy" Vishal muttered. "And if he's good with tech... aren't you good at that too?"
Kunal snapped his laptop shut gently and shot him a stiff look. "So what do you want me to do? Hack all his social accounts?"
"Nah, I'm just saying you could handle it alone, right?" Vishal smirked as if it was obvious.
"Not really" Kunal replied calmly. "I'm not some genius, Vishal Khanna. What do you think I am? I'm not a programmer or something. I'm SP. You've already talked to DIG about this, let him handle this." He stood, picked up his laptop, and added, "Anyway, the CCTV footage has been recovered. I'm going to check it. Keep an eye on Tanish and Rhea."
He walked out, leaving a trail of tension behind.
Vishal, still seated, squinted in confusion. "KayKay, the Kunal Kundra" he muttered to himself, "always serious, the guy who solved the neighbors' case in one week... acting so uninterested in this murder? Is it because of DIG Arwant?"
He let out a long sigh, questions piling up in his head like storm clouds gathering on a silent horizon.