Chapter 6: The Ash of Dreams
Two glasses of water and one broken later, the tension in the room had not abated. Aarav served the water. Kiyan drank it silently and began to move towards the door.
Just then, Aarav's hand shot out and caught Kiyan's wrist. "Stop."
Kiyan turned. A question hung in his eyes.
Aarav quickly withdrew his hand, as if caught in a mistake. "I mean… it's raining outside. You'll get sick if you go out in this. That's all."
Kiyan stayed. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring out at the drizzle.
"You'll have something?" Aarav asked, masking his restlessness. "I mean, will you eat? Are you hungry?"
Kiyan shook his head.
Just then, an alert vibrated on Aarav's phone. A message from the weather department: Heavy rain expected in Mumbai throughout the night.
"Look!" Aarav said, pushing the phone towards Kiyan. "It's going to rain all night."
Kiyan gave no reaction.
"So… will you stay? Here? With me?" Aarav asked, a strange tremor in his voice.
Kiyan looked at him, then took another step towards the door.
"Hey, I was joking!" Aarav laughed, stepping forward and grabbing Kiyan's hand. He pulled him back and made him sit on the bed. "You can stay, for the night. We're both guys anyway, no need for all this shyness."
Aarav added, "Will you change? Because I can't sleep without my nightclothes. I'm changing. You turn your face that way."
Without a word, Kiyan turned his face away.
Aarav began to pull off his t-shirt. Just then, lightning cracked violently outside, a terrible flash flooding the room. Aarav yelped, scrambling onto the bed where Kiyan sat.
Kiyan looked at him. Aarav realized he was still half-naked. He jumped off the bed and yelped, "Hey! Turn around! You're so shameless! Watching a guy change? Come on, look away! And now my hand's stuck in this sleeve, it won't come out—"
Kiyan got off the bed. He started walking towards Aarav.
"Wh-what are you doing? Why are you coming near me?" Aarav pressed himself against the wall.
Kiyan came close. He reached out a gentle hand. Aarav closed his eyes, his heart pounding. What was he going to do?
But Kiyan simply took Aarav's hand and freed it from the tangled shirt. Then he turned back, went to the bed, sat down, and pulled the blanket over himself.
Aarav burst into laughter, filled with relief and a strange embarrassment. "I wasn't scared of you or anything, I just… whatever. I've changed and I'm sleepy now. Look, it's already ten."
Aarav lay down on the bed. Kiyan lay down too, a formal distance between them.
Aarav turned on his side to face Kiyan. "Why are you so quiet? Are you sad? Or just crazy?"
Kiyan gave no answer. He placed a hand over his eyes and pretended to sleep.
"Fine," Aarav said. "What do I care? I'm sleeping. I'm so sleepy."
Aarav truly fell asleep. His breaths grew deep and steady.
Kiyan removed his hand from his eyes. He began to watch Aarav's face—the closed eyelids, the soft lips, that innocent face peaceful in sleep. His hand drifted forward, towards Aarav's cheek. His fingers halted in the air, just an inch away. An invisible wall. He hesitated, then pulled back, restraining himself. He drew a pained breath, pulled the blanket tighter, and turned the other way.
---
Midnight
Kiyan's dreams dragged him back—to being a small child. A forest, a hut. His mother and father. Happiness. Then flames. The angry faces of villagers. The hut burning. His father saved him and his mother, sacrificing himself. Fleeing footsteps. Pursuing people.
And then a man in front of them, sword drawn. Kiyan clung to his mother. "Ma, he'll kill us!"
"No, son," his mother said, an iron will in her voice. "He will not kill us."
His mother stretched her hands into the air. Her eyes blazed with a golden light. Her nails grew long, her hair billowed. She grabbed the man's throat and lifted him into the air. A golden energy began to stream from the man's body and into his mother's mouth. In moments, the man transformed from a youth into a wrinkled, ancient husk. His mother flung him aside.
She grabbed Kiyan's hand and ran. Then another man appeared ahead. He threw a net—laced with white flowers. Kiyan's mother screamed.
"Run, son! Run!" she said, tears filling her eyes.
"No, Ma! No!" Kiyan cried.
"My son, I swear to you, run from here!"
Then some people began chasing Kiyan. But Kiyan ran, many times faster. And soon, he vanished into thin air.
The villagers captured his mother. They surrounded her, planting those same white flowers around her. With each flower, his mother writhed and screamed. And Kiyan, helpless, watched it all from a tree. He covered his mouth with his hands and screamed—"Ma!"
---
On the bed, Kiyan's body began to twist. His head tossed from side to side. A pained groan escaped him.
Aarav awoke. He saw Kiyan twitching, his face damp with sweat, eyes clenched shut.
"Kiyan? Wake up, Kiyan! What's wrong? Kiyan!" Aarav shook him.
Kiyan sat bolt upright, eyes wide with terror. "Ma!" he cried.
And then, without thought, he clutched Aarav. A tight, desperate embrace, seeking anchor. His entire body trembled, breaths ragged.
Aarav froze. Then, slowly, he wrapped his arms around Kiyan. He said nothing. Just held him, resting his chin on Kiyan's sweat-damp hair. He rubbed his back, slowly, gently, as if soothing a frightened animal.
Outside, the rain had stopped. Beyond the window, in the dim glow of the streetlight, a figure stood. Black coat, masked face. Its gaze was fixed directly on Aarav's window, where two shadows seemed to melt into one.
Then the figure turned abruptly and vanished into the darkness, moving at impossible speed.
Inside the room, Aarav and Kiyan still clung to each other. One's pain, the other's solace. One's secret, the other's curiosity. And outside, a new danger, now closer than ever.
(Chapter End)