Chapter 69- On A Grieving Night

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CHAPTER 69

ON A GRIEVING NIGHT

There was a strange calmness that only death could bring. A sense of emptiness. Monami rested her head on the window pane, gently stroking the leaves of Gappu. Abhi was... dead.

No. Not dead. He was martyred. The distinction was everything.

'It... It hurts so bad.'

She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. She looked down at Gappu, hugging it close. She walked to the door, throwing it open. The academy wasn't as calm. Quite the opposite, really. Despite the late hour, agents were wandering around. Working.

A slight breeze made her shiver and she shoved her hands in her hoodie, walking to the mess. The trainers had sent her away when she had shakily called his death. She didn't have any use there. She swallowed the lump in her throat, shaking her head.

'Monami, baccha...' She looked up through teary eyes. Her father gently grabbed her hand, squeezing it in comfort. 'Ek baat dhyaan se sun. Ek doctor ka kaam treatment dena hota hai, jaan dena nahi. Jaan deni jitni abilities nahi hain humaare mein. You will always have people jinko kuchh karke bachaaya nahi jaa sakta. That does not say anything about your abilities. Do you understand me?' She nodded. He offered her a smile, gently cradling her closer and kissing her head affectionately. 'Chal. Tujhe ice cream khilaakar lekar aata hoon. Sid ko bhi bula le.'

She sat down, stroking the leaves gently with two fingers. He was... dead. She swallowed the lump in her throat, closing her eyes. A tear escaped her eyelids and she brushed it away.

'The first time I saw you, uss party mein, mujhe laga... you were a princess. I wanted to be your knight in shining armor.'

That was the last time they had talked. Actually talked. Their last, real conversation. What would she say if she knew? Perhaps... that she appreciated his feelings, appreciated his love for her even if she couldn't accept it. Perhaps... that she admired his acceptance of her rejection. Perhaps... that he was a good guy and she wished him so much love- a love she couldn't give him.

So much he didn't know. So much he'll never know.

Because he was dead.

---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

"Sir ji, aap kadpe badal lijiye", Ustaad ji said.

Karan looked down. They were smothered in blood. Abhi's blood. He turned his hands over, inspecting them quietly. Dried blood was crusted on his hands, darkened into a pale, murky brown.

He let out a strangled noise, his hands clenching tightly around his.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Main saaf karke aaya", he agreed quietly. He hadn't had a chance to take a moment to pause and breathe. He looked at him. "I want all heads and deputy heads in debrief in 30 minutes." He shoved his hands in his hoodie, walking quietly to his room. He would need to throw all his clothes away. They were too stained to wash.

"Karan", Faizi said, falling in step beside him. "Humne cameras ki footage Parikshit aur Prem ji ko bhej di hai. Hopefully, spy ko chance nahi mila hoga delete ya modify karne ka."

"Hopefully", he said quietly. He paused. "Siddharth kahan hai?"

"Kamre mein hoga? Hume kaise pata hoga?"

Karan inspected him. He paused in his step. "Faizi", he said gently. "Tujhe ek minute chahiye toh tu le sakta hai. Main sambhaal lunga. Tera dost tha woh. It's okay."

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