Riya ne shoulders ko ek halka sa shrug diya. “Woh mujhe clear nahi suna. Bas itna pata hai ki naam old record jaisa tha. Kisi purane batch ka ya kisi missing file ka.”
Kabir ne uski baat ko bina kisi reaction ke andar utaar liya. Uske liye yeh bas gossip nahi tha; yeh ek thread tha, aur campus mein threads kabhi akela nahi hota, woh kisi na kisi knot tak le jaate the.
“Who asked?” Kabir ne poocha.
“Ek aadmi. Thirty ke aas-paas. Plain shirt. Campus ka nahi lagta tha.” Riya ne ek step side mein liya, kyunki ek biker dheere se unke paas se guzra. “Aur haan, uske paas ek folded paper bhi tha. Kisi ne dekh liya toh woh jaldi mein nikal gaya..
Dusk ke baad hostel terrace ka hawa kaatne wala saannata aur neeche se aati distant mess ki clang-clang—dono milke Campus ko kisi purane raaz ki tarah bana rahe the. Kabir stair landing par ruk gaya, haath railing pe, aur neeche corridor ki peeli tube-light ko dekhte hue bola, “Aaj sab log Room 69 ka number dekh ke kyun aise react kar rahe hain jaise koi curse ho.”
Peechhe se Tara ki awaaz aayi, sharp aur amused. “Kyuki tum logon ka room already suspicious lagta hai. Upar se 69. Bas naam sunke hi aadhe log overthink karne lagte hain.”
Kabir ne mudke dekha. Tara aayi thi apni usual fearless walk mein, jaise campus ki har deewar usko pehchanti ho. Par aaj uske chehre pe mazaak ke neeche ek aur layer thi—restless, alert. Woh landing ke paas aakar khadi hui, aur ek second ke liye dono ne neeche dark courtyard ki taraf dekha, jahan security guard ka torch ek line mein hil raha tha.
“Sun,” Tara ne dheere kaha. “Aaj hostel mein jo gossip chal raha hai na, usmein sirf bakwaas nahi hai. Kuchh gadbad hai.”
Kabir ka jawline tight hua. “Kya suna tune?”
“Log keh rahe the koi raat ko old service passage ke paas dekha gaya. Room 69 ke side wala jo purana raasta hai, jahan maintenance wale jaate hain.” Usne apni baat ko casual banane ki koshish ki, par nazar phir bhi steady rahi. “Aur koi bag le ja raha tha. Papers jaisa nahi lag raha tha. Heavy tha.”
Kabir ne ek pal ko kuchh bola nahi. Uske andar woh familiar feeling uth rahi thi—jaise campus ka har corner ek clue ban kar saamne aa raha ho, aur Kunal ki missing file sirf ek case nahi, ek chalti hui shadow ho. “Kaun dekh ke aaya?”
“Main,” Tara boli, seedha. “Aur pehle mat poochna kaise. Tumhare jaise log questions mein time waste karte ho. Main bas dekh leti hoon.”
Kabir ki aankhon mein ek halka sa smile aaya, par tension gayi nahi. “Tum sach mein problem ho.”
“Haath pe mat le jana,” Tara ne turant kaha, phir khud hi thoda soft ho gayi. “Kabir, mazaak alag cheez hai. Par aaj campus mein kuchh wrong chal raha hai.”
Woh dono ek doosre ke saamne khade rahe, beech mein terrace ka khula andhera, aur neeche hostel ki zindagi ka dull hum. Kabir ne ek step aage liya, Tara ne bhi. Uske chehre par woh wild confidence tha, par uske andar ki urgency bhi saaf thi. Kabir ne kuchh kehna chaha, par Tara ne uski baat ko apni nazar se rok diya—phir kabhi ke liye nahi, bas us ek pal ke liye, jab dono ki saans ek saath thami hui si lagi.
Phir Tara ne apna shoulder seedha kiya, jaise khud ko wapas normal mode mein laa rahi ho. “Aaj raat mat sochna ki koi bas random scene hai. Jisne bhi bag uthaya, woh jaldi mein tha. Aur usne left side se service passage use kiya. Main itna hi pakad paayi.”
Kabir ne dheere se nod kiya..
Raat ka campus din se bilkul alag lag raha tha. Jo corridor subah students ke shor se bhara rehta, ab usmein sirf purani deewaron ki sookhi saans aur tube light ki bechain flicker bachi thi. Ek light jalti, ek bujh jaati. Beech-beech mein peele saaye floor par lambi lakeeren kheench dete, jaise koi invisible hand unhein hila rahi ho.
Arjun sabse aage tha, lekin uski usual easy smile gayab thi. “Bas, yahin se,” usne dheere se kaha. “Senior block ke purane wing ke paas.”
Rohan ne apna phone torch mode par rakha, screen ki roshni ko cup ki tarah haath se ghira hua. “Ye corridor official map mein bhi half-missing hai,” usne murmura kar bola. “College ka architecture bhi lagta hai kuch baatein chhupata hai.”
Kabir ne ek sard hansi di. “College ka mood hi same hai. Welcome to Room 69, where even walls have secrets.”
Imran kuch nahi bola. Uski nazar corridor ke end par tikki thi, jahan ek sealed room ka board latka hua tha. Board ka ek kona tedha ho chuka tha, aur uske neeche floor par dust ka patla sa layer tha—par us dust mein ek jagah naya nishaan tha. Jaise kisi ne abhi-abhi wahan pair rakha ho, phir sambhal ke hataya ho.
“Ruko,” Imran ne pehli baar awaaz di. Sab ruk gaye.
Woh dheere se aage badha, apne shoe ke toe se floor ko touch kiya. “Yahan dust disturbed hai. Fresh hai.”
Rohan ne torch neeche jhukaayi. “Aur yeh dekh.” Corridor ki deewar par, waist height se thoda upar, ek halka sa scratch-mark tha—seedha nahi, balki do chhote cross lines aur ek third line. Jaise kisi ne hurriedly symbol bana ke mitaane ki koshish ki ho.
Arjun ne us mark ko dekha aur uske chehre par pehchan ki ek chhoti si jhalak aayi. “Yeh Kunal ka style nahi hai,” usne kaha. “Par… woh jis din gayab hua tha, uske baad kisi ne yeh corridor use kiya tha. Shayad baar-baar.”
Kabir ne aas-paas nazar ghumayi. “Toh missing sirf banda nahi tha. Kuch aur bhi missing tha. Ya kisi ne usko missing banaya.”
Ek second ke liye sab chup ho gaye. Door se canteen ka last fan chalne ki murmur aati thi, phir woh bhi band ho gayi. Campus aur bhi zyada khaali lagne laga, jaise raat ne sab breath ek saath rok li ho.
Imran ne sealed room ke lock ko dekha. “Lock pe naya scratch hai,” usne dheere se kaha. “Purana rust aur naya damage dono.”
“Matlab koi recently aaya,” Rohan ne conclusion nikala. “Aur jo bhi hai, woh seedha story mein nahi, setup mein involved lagta hai.”
Arjun ne ek step aur liya. Uske shoes ke neeche floor ke kone se ek chhota sa paper chipka hua nikla. Woh jhuk kar use uthaya. Paper ka ek tukda tha, damp aur folded, us par bas ek adhoora sa number tha—“69”—aur neeche kuch letters, jo adhe mit chuke the. Kunal ka naam ho sakta tha. Ya kuch aur..