I was sitting outside the Principal's cabin. Dhruv had been taken to the hospital. The teacher had dragged me here by my collar.

"You're a monster in the form of a human," he had said.

"Aakarsh, you don't deserve to be in this world."

“Call me anything you want. A monster? Fine, I'm good with that. But I don't have a single regret for what I've done, and until my death, I never will. It gave me satisfaction when his bone made that cracking sound. He dared to touch her, and that too without her consent. He deserves this. He deserves this.”

“Aakarsh Jaisingh, Principal Ma’am is calling you,” the Principal’s P.A. announced, standing in front of me.

He gave me a look full of disgust, as if I had killed someone.

Actually, Dhruv was lucky that I hadn’t killed him.

The atmosphere inside the Principal’s cabin was suffocating. The cool air from the A.C. brushed directly against my arms. The room carried a faint scent of berries a surprisingly pleasant smell.

“Sit.”

The heavy, authoritative voice of Principal Ma’am, Mrs. Geeta Singhaniya, reached my ears.

I looked at her, wondering if I had heard her correctly.

Did she really just ask me to sit?

Students were never allowed to sit in front of the Principal, and I knew that rule very well. After all, I spent so much time here that sometimes it felt like I visited this office more often than my own classroom.

“Aakarsh Jaisingh, sit,” she repeated firmly.

Carefully, I pulled the chair back and sat down on the cushioned seat.

She looked at me before putting on her reading glasses and resting them on the bridge of her nose. Folding her hands in front of her, she leaned back in her chair.

“Aakarsh Jaisingh,” she said, her eyes fixed on me. “The son of the CEO of Jaisingh Empire, the richest company in all of Rajasthan, and the grandson of a former Chief Minister.”

Her words made me look up at her.

“Your father, your grandfather, your family everything about them is treated like gold. Born with a silver spoon, living a life of privilege. What a luxury it must be to be born a Jaisingh, right?” she said in a mocking tone.

Then she leaned forward slightly.

“Tell me, Aakarsh, don’t you think that if you killed someone tomorrow, nothing would happen to you? That your family would simply step in and save you?” she added.

“Aakarsh, you are in 12th grade. This is your last year of school, and probably your last two months here. Do you remember when you were in 7th standard and got into a fight with your classmates for the first time? We still don't know the reason. Then you hit one of your classmates because he tore your notebook. It was that child's mistake, not yours, but you cut his arm with a measuring scale. Do you understand? That child only tore your notebook. It was a childish mistake.”

She slapped her palm against the table.

I was genuinely confused about why she was telling me all this now.

“Then you once hit one of your seniors with a bottle. Another time, you slapped a student. And recently, just last month, you almost killed Dhruv. Do you remember all of that? Do you understand what kind of person you're becoming, Aakarsh? Do you realize what your future will look like? Do you, Aakarsh Jaisingh?” she shouted, her eyes boring into mine.

“And the reason is your anger. Just because you can't control it, does that mean you'll keep hitting and beating students?” she said. “I'm not saying you were completely wrong, okay? Maybe those students or your classmates did things deliberately to provoke you. Maybe they were more at fault. But, Aakarsh, the way you deal with them beating them almost to death, breaking a student's wrist that is not the way to handle a situation.”

“Many students get into fights and arguments, but no one handles them the way you do,” she lashed out at me. “The way you treat these situations is not normal, Aakarsh.”

Then she fell silent for a moment.

“Do you have anything to say in your defense?” she asked, her gaze fixed on me.

The room suddenly felt suffocating.

“May I know the actual reason why you broke Dhruv’s wrist?” her tone hardened.

I couldn't tell anyone the real reason. I didn't want to drag Shruti into this. She didn't even know about it. I would never tarnish her name.

“I'm asking you something, Aakarsh,” she said firmly.

“We had a fight,” I lied.

“Are you sure it was just a fight? Because what you did doesn't look like the result of a simple fight,” she said through gritted teeth.

A knock on the door made me look back.

“Minister Sahab has arrived, Ma’am,” the P.A. announced. My grandfather was here as always because no one other than him cared about me.

Principal Ma'am rose from her seat as well to greet my grandfather. He was a former Chief Minister and a highly respected man.

I, too, stood beside my chair.

When the door opened and my grandfather walked inside, he greeted Principal Ma'am politely.

“Minister Sahab, please have a seat,” Principal Ma'am said. He nodded and took the chair beside her desk.

I remained standing beside him.

“Yes, Principal Singhaniya, why have I been called here today?” my grandfather asked, as if he already knew exactly what this was about.

“Minister Sahab, earlier Aakarsh used to get into fights or other less serious incidents, but this time.” Principal Ma'am trailed off and looked at me.

“Go ahead, Principal Singhaniya. I've already told you that I'm here as a parent, not as a former Chief Minister, so don't hesitate,” my grandfather assured her.

“Minister Sahab, Aakarsh broke his classmate's wrist. He broke it in front of the entire class,” she said.

I could feel my grandfather's gaze shift toward me. He took a long breath and slowly nodded his head.

“Principal Singhaniya, I would like to speak with my grandson alone,” my grandfather said, giving Principal Ma’am a tight-lipped smile.

She nodded and allowed us to leave.

We sat in the school playground. It was almost empty since the exams were going on.

“You broke his hand?” Dada ji asked, as if he still couldn't believe it. I lowered my head and nodded.

“Reason?” he demanded.

“We had a fight,” I lied again. “Fool someone else,” he retorted.

“That's the truth, Dada ji,” I tried to convince him.

“I'm your father's father, you fool. Try fooling someone else,” Dada ji said in a cold tone. He was sweet, but his anger was a completely different story. No one could fool him.

“Speak,” he said in a hard tone.

“Dada ji, will you understand if I tell you the real reason?” I asked the sternness in his expression softened, and he gave me a gentle look.

“Any doubt?” he asked, his face scrunching slightly, I shook my head.

“I like a girl. Her name is Shruti. She studies in this school, in 8th grade,” I said, lowering my head then I heard Dada ji take a deep breath.

“This morning, Dhruv proposed to her. She rejected him, but he kept being stubborn. He grabbed her wrist, and in anger, Shruti slapped him. Then Dhruv threatened her,” I finished, still looking down.

“So you broke Dhruv’s wrist because he touched her?” Dada ji confirmed.

I nodded.

“Aakarsh, as a boy who likes a girl, what you felt wasn't wrong,” he said.

At his words, I looked up at him.

“But breaking his bone is quite troublesome. Shruti could be affected by this. Her name may get dragged into the matter.”

“No, Dada ji. Her name won't come into this, I promise. I won't let anything happen to her. She doesn't even know about it,” I said, cutting him off before he could continue.

“I won't let her name get tarnished, Dada ji,” I assured him once again.

“Good, my boy,” Dada ji said proudly.

“Always protect the person who is in your life. We can't say what the future holds, but I can tell you this if you truly like this girl, you should never leave her alone. Stand by her until the end unless one day your own heart changes,” he said with quiet assurance.

“Maybe never, Dada ji,” I whispered, looking at him.

“Let's go inside. I'll handle the matter. I know Dhruv's family as well,” Dada ji said as he got up from the bench. His bodyguards immediately followed him.

“Dada ji,” I called out. He turned back to look at me.

“Please don't tell anyone about this,” I requested. “I don't want to take any chances.”

“Do you trust me?” he asked, I nodded.

He patted my back, and together we walked back to the Principal's cabin.

In the end, I was suspended for a week until the farewell party next week. Honestly, I had thought this time I would be punished much more severely.

But Principal Ma'am said that my extra classes for the final exams were too important to miss, so she decided not to suspend me for a longer period.

In the afternoon, I reached the Jaisingh House. The mansion was wrapped in an eerie silence, the kind that made the place feel even larger than it actually was. Everyone was probably busy with their own lives, occupied with work, meetings, studies, or whatever else they considered important. I simply shrugged and started climbing the stairs, unconcerned by the unusual quietness.

“Aakarsh.”

I turned around to see Mrs. Shalini Jaisingh standing at the foot of the staircase.

Her arms were folded across her chest, and from the look on her face, she was furious about something.

My eyebrows lifted slightly slowly, I descended the stairs and stopped in front of her.

“We send you to school to study, not to fight. There isn't a single day that passes peacefully because of you,” she snapped. “You love creating drama and troubling people, don't you?”

Her voice echoed through the otherwise silent hall.

I remained silent, staring at her as she continued glaring at me. Her expression made it clear that she had already heard about what had happened at school.

“You know, because of what you did today with your classmate, how badly it could affect your father's business and reputation?” she accused.

Of course, Business and reputation. That was all this family ever seemed to care about. Just reputation and money.

I let out a slow breath and shook my head.

“You know what, Mrs. Jaisingh?” I said coldly. “I have a lot of important things to do instead of standing here and listening to your nonsense.”

Without waiting for her response, I turned around, ready to leave but before I could take more than a step, her voice stopped me once again.

“You are such a jerk. I don't know why Papaji brought trash like you into this house,” she spat venomously.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to suppress my frustration.

“Mrs. Jaisingh, why don't you go and check on your son instead?” I said calmly. “I worry sometimes. What if he grows up to be exactly like his mother? You should be taking extra care of him.”

A smirk tugged at my lips.

The color immediately drained from her face.

“You son of—”

“Stop right there!” I shouted my voice echoed through the hall my eyes locked onto hers, hard and unyielding, warning her not to finish that sentence.

“Don't go any further,” I said coldly. “And if you're really fond of cursing people, look in the mirror and do that auspicious work.”

The words hit their mark without waiting for her response, I turned on my heels and walked away.

Behind me, I could feel her glare burning into my back, but I didn't bother looking back.

I had heard enough for one day.

Climbing the stairs, I ignored whatever she said next and continued toward my room, leaving her standing alone in the hall.