“Tum late ho,” usne dheere se kaha.
Imran ne keycard dekha, phir uska face. “Tumhe kaise—”
“Questions baad mein.” Mehak ki voice mein warmth thi, par us warmth ke neeche kuch aur tha—alert, guarded. “Bas yeh lo.”
Imran ne card liya. Uske fingertips me cardboard ya plastic nahi, ek decision ka weight tha.
Mehak ne bas ek hi instruction di, bilkul seedha: “Find the basement door before they move him again.”
Imran ne ek second mein corridor, office door, scratch-marked cabinet aur apne borrowed ID ko mentally jod diya. Campus ka yeh hissa ab sirf admin block nahi tha..
Sports field ke paas wali purani maintenance wall ke neeche andhera ab bhi gaadha tha, bas sky pe ek halki si peeli line phoot rahi thi. Hostel blocks se door, campus ka woh hissa jahan din mein bhi hawa ajeeb si lagti thi, ab bilkul dead tha. Arjun sabse pehle ruk gaya, phone ki torch ko neeche karte hue. “Yahin bola tha van wale clue mein,” usne dheere kaha. “Agar koi jhoot nikla na, toh main khud is tunnel ko 69 baar ghoom ke aunga.”
Kabir ne ek sard saans chhodi. “Bakwas baad mein. Pehle dekhte hain kaun sa raasta khulta hai.”
Rohan, jo poore raaste map aur campus layout yaad karta aa raha tha, ek rusted panel ke paas jhuk gaya. “Ye maintenance access hai. Officially sealed hai, but seal ka condition dekh ke lag raha hai kisi ne recently khola tha.”
Imran ne bas ek baar charo taraf dekha. Ground damp tha, aur hawa mein diesel aur geeli mitti ki smell mili-juli thi. “Idhar,” usne low voice mein bola, aur wall ke side ek narrow metal door ki taraf ishara kiya, jo aadha shadow mein chhupa hua tha.
Door ka latch jam tha. Kabir ne shoulder se dhakka diya, phir doosri baar. Metal ne ek lambi, khurduri si cheekh nikaali aur andar ki hawa bahar phooti. Ek stale, closed-room smell unke chehre se takra gayi.
“Hello?” Arjun ne andar jhaankte hue call kiya. “Kunal?”
Pehle kuch nahi. Sirf dripping water ki awaaz.
Phir ek halki si khansi.
Rohan ka poora body seedha ho gaya. “Woh andar hai.”
Andar ka room utility store jaisa tha—purane pipes, ek broken chair, ek shelf jahan se tools gayab the. Corner mein, blanket se aadha dhaka hua Kunal baitha hua tha. Face pe thakan, aankhon mein panic ka residue, aur haath mein ek crumpled paper bottle jaisa kuch. Uske paas floor pe ek half-full water bottle aur ek folded blanket pada tha, jaise kisi ne minimum care ke saath use yahan chhoda ho.
Arjun ek pal ke liye bol hi nahi paaya. “Dude…”
Kunal ne sir uthaya. Voice cracked thi. “Tum log… aa gaye.”
Kabir ne room scan kiya, phir Kunal ki taraf ek step liya—ruk kar, jaise yaad aaya ki ye koi normal meeting nahi hai. “Kaun band kiya tujhe yahan?”
Kunal ne hoth bhinche. “Mujhe sirf itna pata hai… main galat jagah par galat cheez dekh gaya tha.” Uski nazar wall ke paas chipke ek note par gayi. Rohan ne usko carefully uthaya.
Note par short, jagged handwriting thi: DON’T TRUST THE CHAIN. ASK WHO SIGNS THE TRANSFERS.
Rohan ki aankhen narrow ho gayin. “Transfers? Finance side?”
“Ya administration,” Imran ne dheere kaha.
Kunal ne ek aur kaagaz ka kona apni mutthi se nikala. “Ye bhi tha.” Arjun ne uske haath se paper liya. Us par bas ek naam likha tha, aur neeche ek office code. Naam dekhte hi room ke andar ki hawa aur bhaari ho gayi. Koi senior, koi insider. University chain ke andar ka koi aadmi..
Kabir ne room ka door dheere se band kiya, aur us chhoti si click ke saath Riya ke hothon par ek halki si muskaan aa gayi. Hostel corridor se aati awaazen ab door reh gayi thi; andar sirf fan ki soft humming thi aur un dono ki saanson ka ajeeb sa rhythm, jo ek dusre ko dekhte hi aur tez ho jaata tha.
“Late ho gaya,” Riya ne casual tone mein kaha, lekin uski aankhon mein wahi purana challenge tha.
Kabir ne jacket bed ke kinare pheink di. “Tumne bulaya tha.”
“Mainne sirf kaha tha aana hai to aana.”
“Wahi to main aaya hoon.”
Riya ne apna dupatta side mein rakha aur khidki ke paas se mudkar usse dekha. Campus ke dinon mein unka naam already enough tha logon ke liye, par room ke andar woh sab bas noise lagta tha. Kabir uske paas aaya, bina jaldi, bina drama ke, jaise dono ko pata ho ki is moment ka end kahan hai, bas raasta thoda alag-alag hai.
Usne Riya ki wrist ko halka sa pakda. “Still acting tough?”
Riya ne chin utha kar uski taraf dekha. “Tum bhi to smart ban rahe ho.”
Kabir hansa, low and rough. “Smart nahi. Bas sure.”
Is baar Riya ne first move kiya. Usne Kabir ke collar ko pakad ke thoda aur paas kheench liya, aur unke beech ki distance ek second mein pighal gayi. Kabir ne uske waist ko hold kiya, confident, steady, aur Riya ko ek aisi warmth mehsoos hui jo words se zyada dangerous thi. Unke beech ka tension ab koi hidden cheez nahi raha tha; woh openly room mein ghul chuka tha, fan ki hawa mein, curtain ke edge mein, unki har saans mein.
Kabir ka forehead uske forehead se touch hua. “Ab bhi sure ho?” usne dheere se poocha, jaise answer already pata ho.
Riya ne uske cheek ke paas se ek strand of hair hata diya. “Kabir, bas chup ho jao.”
That was enough.
Usne uska face cup kiya, aur kiss soft tha pehle, almost teasing, phir dheere-dheere deeper, warmer, more certain. Riya ne uske shoulders se grip tight ki, aur Kabir ne usse aur close pull kiya, jaise room ke andar sirf wahi ek truth ho. Outside the window, campus lights blink kar rahi thi, lekin andar sab kuch focused tha—breath, pulse, heat, and the unspoken agreement between them.
Riya ne ek chhoti si breath chhodi, aur Kabir ne uski aankhon mein dekha. Dono ke beech woh silence tha jo sirf un logon ke saath aata hai jo already too far in ho chuke hote hain. Kabir ne uske hair ko gently sweep kiya, then kissed her again, slower this time, like he had all night and no intention of wasting a single second..