After that day, something shifted between them.
They weren't friends. Not exactly. They weren't more than friends—not yet. They were something else. Something in between.
Allies, maybe.
Or two people who had found a mirror in each other and couldn't look away.
They started spending every afternoon together.
The abandoned music room became their headquarters. Kavya would bring tea from the canteen; Aarav would bring biscuits. They would sit across from each other and talk—really talk—for the first time in either of their lives.
Kavya taught him how to strengthen his blocks.
"You're like a radio with no volume control," she said. "You hear everything because you don't know how to turn it down. Here. Try this."
She showed him how to visualize a wall. Not a physical wall, but a mental one. A barrier between his mind and the world.
"It won't block everything," she explained. "But it'll filter the noise. You'll only hear the loudest thoughts. The ones directed at you."
He tried.
Failed.
Tried again.
Failed again.
"Stop trying so hard," she said. "That's your problem. You're forcing it. Let it happen."
"I don't know how to let it happen."
"Yes, you do. You've been doing it your whole life. You just didn't know you were doing it."
She reached across the table and placed her hand on his.
The touch was deliberate. Careful.
"I'm going to lower my block," she said. "Just a little. You're going to hear my thoughts. Don't panic."
"Wait—"
Too late.
Her wall dropped.
And Aarav heard her.
Not words, exactly. More like feelings. Impressions. A flood of sensory information that overwhelmed him for a moment before he learned to sort through it.
—nervous—
—hopeful—
—please don't run—
—please don't look at me like I'm a monster—
—I've been alone so long—
—please stay—
He pulled his hand back.
His heart was pounding.
"What did you hear?" she asked.
"Everything."
"Be specific."
He looked at her. Really looked. For the first time, he saw her not as a mystery to be solved, but as a person to be understood.
"You're scared," he said. "Not of the hunters. Of me."
She flinched.
"You're scared that I'll reject you. That I'll look at you differently now that I know what you can do."
"Aarav—"
"You're scared that I'll leave. That everyone leaves eventually."
Her eyes filled with tears.
She didn't deny it.
"I'm not going to leave," he said.
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do."
"How?"
He reached across the table and took her hand.
"Because you're the first person who's ever looked at me like I wasn't broken either."
The wall went back up.
The silence returned.
But something had changed between them.
Something irreversible.