Author's note: Thank you for all the votes and love on the last chapter! Can we please get 140 votes on this chapter as well! ❤️ Faster the target is achieved the quicker the updates :)

~The troublemakers~

Varun Reddy

I was seething with rage. My fingers clenched and unclenched, desperate for a distraction. I wanted to direct the blame towards my five 'accomplices', but the bitter truth was that most of the blame lay on my shoulders. How could I have been so reckless, so completely swept up in the moment that I had risked everything I had worked years to build?

"What?" I snapped at Sanjana, my voice tight with tension. She had been casting these strange, loaded looks at me all morning. Even now, sitting outside Kabir Sir's office, her gaze kept darting towards me, filled with a mixture of worry and something else I couldn't quite decipher.

"Nothing," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. She hurriedly looked away.

"Oh shit!" Saksham groaned dramatically, taking in our group. When Sanjana and I were pulled from our classes, Tabassum and Tara were already waiting, their expressions sullen and anxious. Minutes later, Ayushmaan was escorted in, looking just as startled to see us.

"This is about last night, right?" Saksham asked, taking a seat beside his friend.

"You think?" I retorted, sarcastically.

Ayushmaan raised an eyebrow, a hint of sardonic amusement. "Aren't you snappy?"

"This is your guys' fault," I accused. "You do realize what's going to happen? We are probably going to be suspended or expelled. And it's all your guys' fault."

Saksham frowned. "How's it our fault?"

"Seriously?" I spat. "Who the hell told you guys to get into that fight?"

"It wasn't like they would let us just walk out of that cafe," Sanjana murmured, shifting in her seat.

"Maybe but we could have just indulged in a verbal spat or something. That would have just kicked us out of the cafe but now we could get into serious trouble. That cafe owner could file a police case against us."

Tara's eyes widened. "Police case? Isn't that too much?"

"Stop scaring everyone," Ayushmaan demanded.

"I'm just thinking," I snapped, "Because clearly none of you have enough brains to do that."

Saksham bristled. "What's your problem, dude?" he demanded, getting into my face.

"You are my problem," I exploded. "Because of you guys, my entire future is on the line."

Tabassum quickly got in the middle. She pushed me back slightly, her touch firm but gentle. "Why don't we all take a deep breath? What has happened has already happened. We need to think about our next steps."

I massaged my forehead, feeling a headache building. My stomach twisted and I felt a painful pang. "What next steps?" I asked bitterly. "We are completely and utterly screwed."

As if summoned by my words, the group we had fought with arrived, accompanied by an older gentleman. Their smug expressions made my blood boil.

Their leader, a tall guy with slicked-back hair and an expensive leather jacket, stepped forward first. "Fancy seeing you here," he said with a smirk.

"Boys, boys," the man with them interrupted. I assumed he was the dean based on his attire and an air of self-importance. "Let's maintain some decorum. We represent our college. Remember that."

The leader of the other group - the one who had started everything - leaned against the pillar with calculated casualness with a provocative smirk. "But, Sir," he drawled, "It isn't fair that they think they can cause trouble and just get away with it."

"Cause trouble?" Ayushmaan said, standing up. "You started the entire thing."

The portly man cleared his throat. "We'll get to the bottom of this," he promised, his tone suggesting he'd already made up his mind about our guilt. "These young men," he nodded towards his students, "have already provided their statement about last night's... incident."

Just then, the door to the inner office opened. A collective hush fell over as Kabir Sir emerged. He was different from the other dean. Kabir Sir was younger with sharp intelligent eyes that seemed to miss nothing. Whereas the other Dean was loud and demonstrative, Kabir Sir carried an air of quiet, calculated intelligence. The older men shook hands curtly.

"We can talk more inside," he said, ushering all of us inside.

Inside the office, the lines were drawn. Two groups, two sides.

"Sir," Tabassum began.

Kabir Sir silenced her with a single raised hand. "I don't want to hear a word from any of you, clear?" he asked and we nodded diligently.

"Dhananjay, let me cut to the chase," the man began immediately, his tone accusatory. "Your students have created a significant disturbance. They were involved in a violent altercation at a local cafe, causing property damage and creating a public scene. I have several witnesses."

Kabir Sir listened impassively, his expressions revealing nothing. He looked at us, not with disappointment or anger but with a keen analytic gaze.

"Violent altercation?" Kabir Sir's voice was calm, almost conversational. "That's a very serious accusation."

The other dean puffed up, clearly enjoying the moment. "I recommend immediate expulsion. These students are a menace to public safety!"

The tension in the room ratcheted up several notches. I clenched my jaw, avoiding eye contact with anyone because if I looked at them, I would explode.

Kabir Sir raised an eyebrow. "Expulsion? Before a proper investigation?"

"Just do your job," one of the guys interjected. "We have witnesses! People who can vouch that they instigated the fight!"

"Ah," Kabir Sir interrupted smoothly, "Witnesses can be... interesting things. Perspective matters."

He pulled out a tablet, tapping a few buttons. Suddenly, a video began playing on the screen mounted on the wall. The footage was from the cafe's security camera - crystal clear and revealing.

The video showed a different narrative entirely. It captured the other group deliberately provoking our group and attacking Saksham first.

The older man's triumphant expression crumbled. The other guys went pale.

"Interesting," Kabir Sir said softly. "It seems the narrative might be slightly different from what was initially presented, no?"

He sputtered, grasping for any remaining shred of authority. "There are people who can recount what they witnessed—"

"I also found some witnesses," Kabir Sir cut in, "Who claim that your students chased my students, threatening bodily harm."

"That's not true," he said, waving his pudgy finger. "I spoke to the cafe owner and he said that there wasn't any CCTV footage."

A ghost of a smile flickered across Kabir Sir's face. "That's precisely what he told me initially," he responded, leaning forward slightly, his arms resting on the desk. "But with the right... motivation, he magically found a working camera. What a surprise, right?"

The other students shifted uncomfortably, their earlier bravado completely deflated. Eyes fixed on the floor, they looked like children caught in an elaborate lie.

"However," Kabir Sir continued, his tone almost conversational, "I'm glad he was able to locate a working camera. It helps us set the record straight."

"But—" one of them mumbled, desperation clear in his voice.

"Enough," Kabir Sir's words sliced through the room. His gaze was a mix of disappointment and controlled fury. "I believe I have heard and seen enough."

The dean's face turned a deeper shade of red as he looked around the room. "You can't talk to my students like that!"

Kabir Sir's laugh was short, sardonic. "And you don't come into my office, accuse my students of your students' mistakes, and then try to dictate how I should handle them."

"Now why are you staring at my face?" The dean snapped at his students, rising abruptly. "Let's go!"

They shuffled out– the Dean and his students – looking deflated, embarrassed, their narrative completely unraveled.

As the door closed behind them, a collective exhale seemed to release the tension that had been in the room. Our group remained frozen, too afraid to move.

Kabir Sir turned, his expression unreadable. None of us dared to speak. The silence was heavy and oppressive. His gaze swept over each of us. The scrutiny in his body language made me want to shrink into myself. My mind raced with worst-case scenarios: suspension, a permanent mark on my record, potential damage to my master's application.

"Sit," he said.

We scrambled to obey because we knew it wasn't a request. It was a command.

"This is a very interesting group," he said looking at us. His eyes locked onto mine. "Varun, I really expected better from you."

Shame burned through me. I dropped my gaze to my shoes, unable to look him in the eye.

Kabir Sir leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. "Anyway... Let me be crystal clear," he began, his voice low and controlled. "You were technically not at fault in the initial confrontation. The evidence makes that abundantly clear."

I sighed in relief.

"However, your behavior was completely unacceptable," he said, popping the balloon of hope that had begun forming in my head.

"But, Sir," Ayushmaan said. "What were we supposed to do? They–"

"I have a few ideas," Kabir Sir interrupted, a dangerous softness entering his tone, "On how you could have tackled the situation better. Perhaps I can elaborate in the email I send to your parents along with a copy of your suspension letters."

The threat and warning hung in the air. Ayushmaan wilted instantly.

"I'm very sorry, Sir," I managed, my voice barely a whisper. "I assure you it won't happen again."

"Good," he said curtly. For a moment, I dared to hope we were dismissed. But Kabir Sir was far from finished. "You will report to the front of the admin office at 5:00 AM sharp. They will provide you with tasks that you help with for the rest of two weeks."

We shared a horrified look.

"But, Sir, The talent show is coming up and I have so much to do," Tabassum argued. "Can I begin next month?"

"I can take care of it by appointing another head of the student activities board. Would that be easier?" he asked. If I didn't know better, I would think he was actually trying to be helpful.

"No, Sir," she mumbled.

"Anyone else have any other complaints or issues of why you can't show up tomorrow? Sports practice? Studies? Beauty sleep, perhaps?"

We shook our heads silently.

"Additionally," he continued, "You'll all submit weekly reports detailing your work. Handwritten. Minimum five pages. Detailing not just what you've done, but reflecting on your actions, your understanding of institutional responsibility."

When none of us argued, he rose from his chair and circled his desk and hovered over us. "You had opportunities to walk away. Multiple opportunities. Yes, you were provoked. Yes, you were technically defending yourselves. But you escalated. You allowed yourselves to be drawn into a physical confrontation. So, think of this punishment as me letting you off easily, am I clear?"

We nodded in unison.

"You begin tomorrow. 5 AM. No exceptions."

With that, we were dismissed. We began filing out.

"What next? Do lines?" Ayushmaan muttered under his breath.

"That can be arranged, Mr. Nayyar," Kabir Sir said.

We turned around, Kabir Sir was already seated back on his desk with a file open in front of him. "Would you like me to add to your punishments?"

Shaking our heads frantically we rushed out.

"Fuck! That was easily the scariest experience of my life," Tara announced once we were out of ear-shot.

"He definitely seems more scary now for some reason," Sanjana murmured.

"Why is he so uptight?" Ayushmaan asked.

"If anything he is a fair man," Tabassum snapped. "If he was like that other dean, he would have expelled us."

Ayushmaan rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Back to your classes," the assistant dean ordered, ending our discussion.

____

That evening, Sanjana and I settled in her room and began studying. I caught her staring at me from the corner of my eye while she was supposed to solve economic equations. Her usual chatterbox self was unusually and uncharacteristically quiet.

"Okay, what's going on?" I finally broke exasperatedly. "You've been staring at me more than usual and it's annoying me."

She blinked, then quickly averted her gaze. "Staring? Me? Pfft. Why would I do that?" Her over-enthusiastic denial only heightened my suspicion.

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. "You're a terrible liar."

"I'm a great liar," she retorted, lifting her chin dramatically. "It's a skill that I have developed over the years."

I scoffed. "You know what will help you study and retain information better?" I said, leaning forward and snatching her textbook. "Holding it right side up."

She rolled her eyes, but a smile threatened to break through as she put the book on her lap and continued solving the equations.

My stomach churned uncomfortably—a sensation I'd been experiencing since morning. I shifted, trying to suppress a wave of queasiness.

"If you have something to say," I finally said when she kept glancing in my direction, "Just say it."

Sanjana took a deep breath, her fingers twisting the corner of her notebook. "I... was wondering if you had something to share. With me. Anything."

Her earnestness was almost comical. "Like what?" I asked, my voice, laced with confusion.

"Anything," she emphasized, her eyes wide and expectant. "Your future. Your past. Your... everything. I'm a great listener."

"What are you saying?" I raised an eyebrow, instinctively reaching out to check her forehead. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Perfectly fine!" she responded a bit too quickly, her enthusiasm bordering on the theatrical.

Another wave of discomfort rolled through my abdomen. I winced, trying to mask it with a cough.

"We could end tonight's study session early if you want," I offered, already sensing my body's rebellion. "We have to wake up early tomorrow as well for Kabir Sir's punishment thing."

"About that?" she murmured. "Are you still mad about it?"

Sighing, I began packing up. "No, I was just nervous about losing my scholarship and... Anyway, Forget it. Like Tabassum said, what's done is done."

"Right," a mischievous glint replacing her earlier seriousness. "But you did have fun though, right?"

"Fun?" I scoffed. "Getting chased through a forest and nearly losing my scholarship is your definition of fun?"

"You're smiling," she interrupted, pointing dramatically.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am. Not."

She blocked the door dramatically and her grin widened. "I can see it on your face. Why can't you just admit you loved our little adventure "

"Because I didn't," I said, trying to push past her but for a petite person, Sanjana was quite strong. My stomach chose that precise moment to revolt and my backpack dropped with a thud.

"Washroom," I managed to garble, my hand clamped tightly over my mouth. I didn't wait for her response, sprinting to the bathroom. I burst through the bathroom door, barely making it to the toilet before throwing up.