After speaking with Mayank that evening, I broke the news to my parents.
They were proud — truly delighted.
"Keep it up," my father said with his infrequent smile that showed up only when I got something correct.
Mom gently patted my head. "Don't let this go into your head. Remember to be humble."
I nodded, smiling modestly.
The next day, I woke up early — earlier than I normally would.
There was something peaceful about mornings before the city awakened.
I prepared myself, took my bag, and headed to school.
Midway through, I realized something.
I had unknowingly taken my phone.
Phones were not allowed on campus. If you were caught during the random searches, suspension was a certainty. My initial thought was panic — but then I composed myself. I could just give it to my class teacher and apologize. Better that than get caught.
When I arrived at school, the gates had only just opened.
There were not many students there.
I headed directly to my room to leave my bag then go to the staffroom. Reaching the door, I stopped.
There were voices in there.
I scowled — who would be in this early?
Then I heard the voice.
Nikita.
Curious, I edged a little towards the door, not eavesdrop but whether she was discussing anything with anyone.
She was alone.
And she was furious.
Her voice wasn't the gentle, courteous one everyone recognized. It was biting, annoyed — venomous.
"It's so frustrating being all sweet to everyone every single day," she grumbled under her breath, striding back and forth. "And why does she have to go on about all that 'rivalry' stuff yesterday? As if I care."
My hold on the door grew tighter.
My instincts kicked in. I crept out my phone and hit record.
Her words stung further with each word.
"What's so great about him anyway?" she went on. "He's just some topper with a nice face. People exaggerate so much — beating four guys, acing every test… what a joke."
My chest constricted.
For a moment, I couldn't catch my breath.
Everything in her tone — the disgust, the annoyance — it was like the mask had slipped.
She went on.
"…Tch, they all treat him like he's some hero. It's tiring smiling at people who don't even count."
That was enough.
I opened the door.
The noise shocked her — she came to a stop in the middle of saying something.
"Oh— Krishanu, you're early!" she said, immediately lapsing into her normal soft tone.
I glared at her icily. "Stop pretending, Nikita."
Her face crumpled. "What do you mean?"
"I overheard everything," I said softly. "Everything you just said."
For an instant, she said nothing — then exhaled, a soft smile twisting on her lips.
"So, you heard it all? Just great."
The pretentious politeness was now gone. Her voice had switched back to sharp. "Now I don't need to pretend with you."
Fury and shock churned within me. "I'll tell everyone what you are."
She shrugged nonchalantly. "You may try. But that would be… a mistake."
Before I could do anything, she did something surprising — she ripped her sleeve slightly.
"What are you—"
She moved in close, eyes icy but smiling weakly.
"If you say anything to anyone about this, I'll burst into tears and tell the teacher that you harassed me. Let's see who they listen to — the well-mannered, sweet girl or the fighter guy?"
I stopped moving.
Each word stung like ice.
And then — footsteps.
Our class teacher was heading towards the room.
Nikita moved closer and whispered, "Be quiet. Or you'll be sorry."
A second later, she changed her face in an instant — sweet, innocently smiling, with eyes wide like she was going to cry.
The teacher opened the door, with a smile on her face. "Oh, you two are early today!"
I couldn't even move. My throat dried up, my mind twisted.
And I knew in that moment —
I'm in a big trouble.
And recall something people uses other as tools.
To be continued.
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