(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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Hyderabad...
The morning rush had slowly begun giving way to the lazy rhythm of the afternoon.
A small roadside tea shop stood at the corner of a busy Hyderabad street, its faded blue signboard barely noticeable amidst the rows of shops surrounding it.
Unlike the expensive cafés filled with polished furniture and air conditioning, this place was simple.
Plastic chairs.
Steel tables polished smooth by years of use.
The aroma of freshly brewed ginger tea mixing with the smell of hot oil as batches of mirchi bajjis crackled inside a large iron kadai.
Office workers stood around sipping tea before returning to work.
College students argued over cricket scores.
An elderly man sat in one corner reading the newspaper while occasionally dipping a biscuit into his tea.
It was the kind of place that never appeared in travel brochures.
Yet somehow always remained full.
Rudra sat quietly near the entrance.
A half-empty glass tumbler of tea rested before him, while a plate containing two half-eaten mirchi bajjis sat pushed slightly to one side.
He wasn't paying much attention to the crowd around him.
Instead, his eyes casually observed everyone entering and leaving the street.
Old habit.
Years of living in situations were he played hero had made vigilance second nature.
A few minutes later, a silver sedan slowly stopped across the road.
The driver's door opened.
Isha stepped out.
Unlike the previous day at the airport, she had clearly taken time getting ready.
She wore a simple light-blue kurti with white embroidery, her hair neatly tied back, and a pair of sunglasses resting atop her head.
There was nothing extravagant about her appearance, yet she carried herself with an effortless elegance that naturally drew a few curious glances from passersby.
She looked around the busy street.
Her expression briefly turned puzzled.
"...A tea shop?"
She had expected a café.
Perhaps one of those modern coffee houses scattered throughout Hyderabad.
Instead...
She found herself standing before a crowded roadside stall where people were drinking tea while balancing plates in one hand.
For a second, she wondered whether Rudra had sent her the wrong address.
Her eyes searched the crowd again.
Then she noticed someone raising a hand.
Rudra.
He was sitting near the corner table with his usual calm expression, as though this was the most natural meeting place in the world.
A smile unconsciously appeared on her face.
Walking across the road, she made her way through the crowd before finally stopping beside his table.
"So..."
She looked around once more before taking her seat opposite him.
"This is your idea of coffee?"
Rudra chuckled hearing her question.
"I did tell you I couldn't go very far."
"And besides..."
He gestured toward the crowded shop.
"The tea here is surprisingly good."
Isha glanced at the half-finished plate before him.
"And apparently the mirchi bajjis too."
Rudra looked at the remaining piece still sitting on his plate.
"They're not bad."
For a few seconds...
Silence settled between them.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Not an uncomfortable silence.
Simply the kind shared by two people who hadn't met in a while and weren't quite sure where to begin.
Finally, Rudra decided to break it.
"How are things back in the village?"
Isha immediately understood what he meant.
"The ghost incident?"
Rudra nodded curiously.
"After Jackson was dealt with."
A small laugh escaped her.
"You won't believe what happened after you left."
Rudra raised an eyebrow.
"Try me."
She leaned slightly forward.
"A few people actually tried pretending the ghost had returned."
Rudra blinked once.
"...Seriously?"
She nodded while laughing.
"They thought they could scare people and collect money by offering fake rituals."
"And?"
"My sister's husband caught them within two days."
Rudra couldn't help laughing.
"So the legendary ghost survived only forty-eight hours."
"Pretty much."
Both of them laughed together, the last traces of awkwardness disappearing completely.
Just then a young waiter approached their table.
"What would you like, sir?"
Rudra pointed toward the empty glass.
"Another tea."
"And one more plate of mirchi bajjis."
The waiter turned toward Isha.
"And for you, madam?"
She looked at Rudra's plate for a moment.
"You know..."
"I've never actually tried them."
Rudra looked genuinely surprised.
"You've lived in Hyderabad and never eaten mirchi bajjis from a roadside stall?"
She shrugged sheepishly.
"My grandmother always said roadside food would upset my stomach."
Rudra smiled hearing her words.
"Today's a good day to prove her wrong."
She laughed.
"Fine."
"I'll have the same."
The waiter nodded before disappearing into the crowd.
For the next several minutes they talked casually.
About Ooty.
About her grandparents.
About the strange things that had happened since they first met.
Not once did Rudra mention Astras.
Nor did Isha ask.
Some conversations were better left untouched.
Eventually, Isha glanced at him thoughtfully.
"Actually..."
"I was thinking..."
Rudra looked up.
"A new movie released yesterday."
"I thought maybe..."
She smiled hopefully.
"...if you're free later, we could watch it."
Before Rudra could answer—
Something felt wrong.
A subtle shift.
Years of battle had sharpened his instincts far beyond ordinary human perception.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed movement.
A man walking casually behind Isha.
Nothing unusual at first glance.
Until—The man reached beneath his loose shirt.
And pulled out a gleaming aruval.
The curved blade flashed beneath the afternoon sun as he swung it directly toward the back of Isha's neck.
Everything happened in less than a second.
Rudra didn't think.
He reacted.
His hand shot toward the steaming glass of tea sitting on the table.
Without hesitation, he hurled the scalding liquid straight into the attacker's face.
"AAAAAH!"
The man screamed as boiling tea splashed across his eyes.
His attack faltered instantly.
In the same motion, Rudra grabbed Isha's wrist and pulled her sharply behind him.
The curved blade sliced through empty air where she had been sitting a heartbeat earlier.
"What—?!"
Isha stumbled backward in complete shock.
The peaceful tea shop erupted into chaos.
Customers screamed.
Chairs toppled over.
People rushed toward the exits.
But before anyone could escape—
BANG!
The shutters came crashing down.
One after another.
Metal doors slammed shut from every entrance.
The entire shop was sealed.
Outside noises disappeared.
Inside—
Only frightened breathing remained.
Several more men emerged from different corners of the tea shop.
Until now they had blended perfectly with the crowd.
Now each of them held iron rods, machetes, and aruvals.
One of them laughed coldly.
"Nobody leaves."
Rudra slowly surveyed the room.
Six.
No...
Eight men.
None of them possessed Astra energy.
Not even the slightest trace.
Ordinary humans.
Yet their movements suggested they were accustomed to violence.
His eyes narrowed.
'They're not here for me.'
If they knew anything about the hidden Astra world, they would never attempt something like this with ordinary weapons.
No.
Their target had been obvious from the very beginning.
Isha.
He shifted slightly, keeping her safely behind him.
Only then did he hear her breathing change.
It wasn't the breathing of someone merely frightened.
It was recognition.
Rudra glanced over his shoulder.
Isha's face had gone pale.
Her eyes were locked on one particular man standing near the shutter.
The color drained from her face as she whispered in disbelief,
"...You..."
"...How are you here?"
The man slowly smiled.
A smile that carried neither warmth nor kindness.
Only malice.
"Little Isha."
"It's been a long time."
The familiarity in his voice immediately told Rudra one thing.
This wasn't a random attack.
This was personal.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N):
Guys My New Fic name is:
-->Karuppan: King of Openings.
Check it out... I hope you will like it
Whats your thought's guys.
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give a review!!! And power stone too!!!
Guys it will motivate me more?