The sun had barely risen, but the camp was already awake. Trainees stood in formation, preparing for another grueling day. The air was filled with murmurs and the occasional clang of weapons being adjusted.
Karan, however, stood apart, his grip tightening around the letter he had received at dawn. His sharp eyes scanned the words again, his anger simmering beneath the surface. The British had imposed yet another restrictionâthis time limiting how many Indian soldiers could be trained at higher levels. It was a clear message: they didn't want the Indian army to grow stronger. They wanted to keep control.
His fists clenched. They were trying to weaken them. To break their spirit before a real fight could even begin.
Karan exhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus. Training would continue as usualâno, it would be tougher. They had no other choice.
His gaze swept over the trainees, but something made his brow furrow.
One person was missing.
Naina.
A fresh wave of irritation surged through him. She had stayed up late, stubborn as always, and now, while everyone else was awake and ready, she was still sleeping?
His patience, already worn thin, snapped. Without another thought, he stormed toward the tents, his boots hitting the ground harder than necessary.
Reaching hers, he yanked the flap aside.
There she was, curled up, lost in sleep, completely oblivious to the chaos outside. The sight only fueled his anger. How could she be so careless?
"Naina!" His voice was sharp, cutting through the silence.
She didn't move.
His jaw tightened. Striding forward, he grabbed the blanket and pulled it off her with force.
She groaned, turning her face into the pillow. "Bas paanch minute aur..."
Karan's fists clenched. "Paanch minute aur, aur jab tum jaago gi tab angrez humare upar aur naya kanoon thop chuke honge!"
Still half-asleep, Naina sighed. "Agar aapke gusse se neend khulti, toh main kab ki uth jaati."
Something inside him snapped. The exhaustion, the frustration, the helpless anger that had been building since morningâhe had no outlet for it. And at that moment, Naina, lying there so casually, became its unfortunate target.
His voice was sharp, colder than she had ever heard before.
"Tumhe lagta hai yeh mazaak hai, Naina? Yeh training, yeh camp? Tumhara yeh ladna, hasna, ulta-seedha bolna? Jab sachmein ladna padega tab kya karogi? Tab bhi hasogi?"
Naina finally opened her eyes, blinking up at him in confusion.
"Sahabâ"
"Bandh karo yeh nautanki!" His words were cutting, his tone harsh. "Mujhe nahi chahiye ek aisi sipahi jo sirf tab tak ladti hai jab tak mazaak chal raha ho. Jab asal waqt aayega, tab bhi tum aise hi so rahi hogi kya?"
The sleepiness in her eyes faded, replaced by something elseâhurt.
But Karan wasn't finished.
"Tum yahan sirf ek tamasha banane aayi ho, Naina? Ya phir tum sach mein is desh ke liye ladne aayi ho?"
Silence.
She sat up slowly, her face pale.
For the first time, she had no smart remark, no challenge in her eyes. She just... stared at him. As if she was seeing him for the first time. As if something between them had cracked.
Karan's chest heaved, his mind still clouded with frustration. But as the seconds passed, realization crept in.
The way she looked at himâit wasn't anger. It wasn't even defiance.
It was pain.
He had hurt her.
Without another word, she stood up, brushing past him as if he wasn't even there. No comeback, no fight.
Just silence.
And for some reason, that silence unsettled him more than any argument ever had.
The Next Day
Karan stood before the trainees, his arms crossed, his sharp gaze scanning the line. The morning sun cast long shadows across the training ground, but he wasn't focused on that.
He was focused on her.
Naina stood in formation, just like everyone elseâher back straight, her expression neutral. But something was off.
She didn't look at him. Not even once.
Usually, she would steal glances, challenge his authority with her smirks, roll her eyes when he scolded her, or even tease him under her breath. But today?
Nothing.
It was as if he didn't exist.
"Aaj ka training..." His voice came out firmer than usual, but he didn't let it waver. "... zyada kathin hoga. Sirf sharirik shakti se nahi, dimaag se bhi kaam lena padega."
He watched her closely, waiting for some reaction. A glance, a frownâanything.
But she didn't even flinch.
She simply stepped forward, silent and focused, waiting for orders like any other trainee.
Something twisted in his chest.
But he pushed it aside.
He had no time for distractions.
"10 rounds tamam campo ke chaaro taraf," he ordered. "Daudna shuru karo!"
The trainees immediately took off, their feet pounding against the earth. Karan's eyes flickered toward Naina again. She ran without complaint, without hesitation.
Still no glance.
Still no acknowledgment.
Karan clenched his jaw. He had been through battles, had endured wounds far worse than any of these trainees could imagine.
But for some reason... this felt like a wound too.
And it burned more than it should.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the camp settled into a quiet hum of tired conversations and clinking utensils. The trainees, exhausted from the intense training, gathered around for their meal.
Karan remained in his cabin, still going through the letter from the British, his jaw tightening with every word. His mind was clouded with frustration, irritation, and something he didn't want to acknowledge.
A soft knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Sahab, raat ka bhojan tayyar hai," Kaveri informed him.
Karan let out a slow breath, setting the letter aside. "Main aa raha hoon."
He stepped out into the open air, inhaling deeply to clear his mind. He needed to focus. He needed to push aside whatever was clawing at his chest since that morning.
As he reached the dining area, he automatically looked toward the usual spot.
Where she sat.
Naina was there, eating quietly among the trainees. Her posture was straight, her movements steadyâbut something was missing.
She didn't even glance at him.
For days now, she had served him food without being asked. She would place an extra roti on his plate, insist he eat more, sometimes even glare at him if he refused. But today?
Nothing.
Instead, another trainee came forward, placing a plate in front of him. A simple servingâjust like everyone else.
Karan's fingers curled around the edge of the plate. It shouldn't have mattered. It was just food.
And yet...
He picked up a piece of roti, his movements slower than usual, his eyes drifting toward Naina involuntarily. She ate her food, speaking quietly to the trainee beside her. She didn't even acknowledge his presence.
It was unsettling.
Annoying.
He swallowed a bite, but it tasted different.
Because today, she hadn't insisted he eat more.
And for some reason, that was harder to swallow than the food itself.
The dining area was filled with the usual sounds of quiet conversation and clinking utensils, but Karan barely heard any of it. His grip on his plate tightened as he forced himself to eat, though the food felt tasteless.
Every now and then, his eyes betrayed him, flickering toward Naina. But she never looked his way. Not even once.
It shouldn't have bothered him. It didn't.
Or so he told himself.
But the other captains noticed.
Captain Jain, always the observant one, narrowed his eyes as he studied Karan's unusually tense demeanor. Captain Prajapati, who had just taken a bite of his food, set his plate down and leaned slightly toward him.
"Aaj tum kuch alag lag rahe ho, Thakur," Jain commented, tilting his head. "Sab theek hai?"
Karan's fingers tightened around his cup. "Haan." His response was clipped.
Jain wasn't convinced. "Pakka? Tum kaafi khoye hue lag rahe ho. Kya Britishon ne koi aur naya farmaan bheja jo sirf tumhe hi pata hai?"
Prajapati let out a short chuckle. "Ya phir koi aur pareshaani hai?" He smirked knowingly.
Karan's jaw clenched as he pushed a bite of roti into his mouth, chewing like the conversation didn't exist. He had no intention of explaining himself.
What would he even say?
That a certain stubborn trainee had suddenly stopped forcing him to eat? That she hadn't nagged him today? That for some reason, it felt as though something was missing?
Absurd.
So instead, he took a slow sip of water and muttered, "Bas thoda thakaan hai. Kal se naye exercises shuru karenge. Uske baare mein soch raha hoon."
Jain and Prajapati exchanged glances. They weren't entirely convinced, but they let it slide.
For now.
Karan, however, remained silent for the rest of the meal, unable to shake off the strange weight in his chest.
Sleep evaded Karan.
No matter how much he tried to shut his mind off, his thoughts kept circling backâto the irritation he had let control him, to the harsh words he had spat without thinking, and most of all, to the way Naina had withdrawn completely.
He wasn't used to this silence.
With a heavy sigh, he pushed off his cot and stepped outside into the cool night air. The camp was quiet, the only sounds being the occasional rustling of the trees and the distant hoot of an owl. His gaze automatically flickered toward the trainees' tents.
Was she still awake?
For some reason, he found himself walking toward her tent, his steps slow, hesitantâan unusual feeling for him. He wasn't even sure what he was expecting. Maybe she'd be awake, maybe he could... say something. Not a direct apology, but something that would ease the tightness in his chest.
But as he reached the entrance, he stopped.
Through the small gap in the tent's entrance, he could see her.
Asleep.
Her back was turned to him, her breathing soft and steady. A few strands of her hair had escaped from her braid, resting against her face, which looked... peaceful.
Something about it made him pause longer than he should have.
She had stayed up late the previous night, and now she was exhausted. And it was because of him.
His fingers curled into fists at his sides. Apologizing now would be pointless. She wasn't even awake to hear it.
With an exhale that felt heavier than it should, he turned away and walked back to his cabin.
Maybe tomorrow.
Karan didn't return to his cabin.
Instead, he found himself wandering to the large banyan tree near the training ground. The cool breeze whispered through its branches as he leaned against the rough bark, his arms resting on his bent knees. His jaw clenched as the events of the day replayed in his mindâthe irritation that had boiled over, the words he had thrown at Naina without thinking, and the way she had just... shut him out.
She hadn't looked at him once.
Not during training.
Not during dinner.
Not even when he had wanted her to.
His fingers ran through his hair in frustration. Why had he taken his anger out on her? The Britishers had sent the letter, not her. She wasn't responsible for the mess he was drowning in. She wasn't the one making his blood boil with their laws and demands.
And yet, she was the one who had suffered his wrath.
Karan exhaled deeply, leaning his head back against the tree trunk. He needed to fix this. Somehow.
But the weight of his thoughts, combined with the exhaustion of the day, settled over him. His body, used to discipline and constant movement, rarely allowed itself restâbut tonight, the regret, the frustration, and the fatigue pulled him under.
Without realizing, Karan drifted off to sleep under the tree.
The sound of approaching footsteps stirred him.
"Karan!"
His eyes snapped open, instincts alert, but instead of an enemy, he saw Captain Jain standing over him, arms crossed, looking unimpressed. The sky was still dark, but hints of orange peeked through the horizon.
It was 4 AM.
"You're the one who wakes up the trainees, aur aaj khud ped ke neeche so rahe ho?" Jain remarked, amusement lacing his voice.
Karan ran a hand down his face, trying to shake off the sleep. His muscles were stiff, his mind still clouded.
Jain raised an eyebrow. "Sab theek hai?"
Karan straightened, dusting off his uniform. "Haan."
But the regret still sat heavy in his chest.
The morning training began as usual, but Karan felt the difference.
The trainees were paired off, practicing the self-defense techniques he had been drilling into them. Today's lesson was crucialâhow to fight back when unarmed. Karan moved among them, correcting postures, adjusting stances, and demonstrating techniques with precision.
His gaze kept drifting toward her.
Naina was practicing, her movements sharp but slightly off-balance. She was learning fast, but he could see where she lackedâher grip needed to be stronger, her footwork more stable.
Without a second thought, he stepped towards her.
"Yahan galti ho rahi hai," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "Main dikhata hoon."
She stilled for a moment. He expected her to hesitate, maybe to argue, but instead, she simply nodded and got into position.
Yet, something was off.
As he took her wrist, guiding her into the proper stance, he realized she wasn't looking at him.
Her focus was on his hands, his movements, but never his face.
Not once did her eyes meet his.
A flicker of irritation sparked in him, but he pushed it down. He deserved this, didn't he? After the way he had spoken to her yesterday?
He tightened his grip slightly, making her adjust her balance. "Agar tum dhyan se nahi seekhogi toh kisi din yeh galti tumhe mehengi padegi," he said, his tone dropping lower.
Still, she only nodded, absorbing the lesson but not him.
Karan felt something unsettling twist inside him.
She was thereâbut she was absent.
And it bothered him more than it should.
Lunch was being served under the shade of a large tree, where the captains and trainees sat in small groups, eating and talking. Karan took his usual seat with Captain Jain and Captain Prajapati, his expression unreadable as he quietly observed the scene before him.
His eyes found herâand what he saw made his grip on his plate tighten.
Naina was laughing.
Not just smilingâlaughing.
She sat with Captain Jain, Captain Prajapati, and even Kaveri, talking animatedly. Her laughter rang out in the open air, light and carefree. As if nothing had happened.
As if their tense moment that morning, as if his harsh words from yesterday, meant nothing.
She passed food to Captain Jain when he asked, nudged Kaveri playfully when she made a joke, and even debated something with Captain Prajapati, all while wearing a smile that wasn't forced at all.
Yetânot once did she glance in Karan's direction.
Not even by mistake.
He wasn't expecting her to be upset forever, but this? This indifference? This casual ease with everyone but him?
It irritated him more than he'd like to admit.
She was fine. Completely, utterly fine. While heâhe was still unsettled, still replaying the words he had spat at her in his frustration. He had even lost sleep over it. But her? She had moved on without hesitation.
Karan set his plate down, suddenly losing his appetite. His jaw clenched as he looked away, focusing on anything but the sight of her laughing with everyone but him.
By the time the theory class began, Karan had already noticed the patternâNaina was ignoring him.
And it wasn't subtle.
As he stood at the front of the room, explaining crucial medical techniques, his sharp gaze instinctively flickered toward her. She sat straight, her posture disciplined, eyes focused solely on the blackboard behind him.
Not once did she meet his eyes.
Not even when he asked questions. Not even when other trainees responded.
It was as if he were just a voice in the background to her.
Karan demonstrated a bandaging method, calling on a few trainees to come forward and repeat the steps. Some made mistakes, others hesitated, but when Naina's turn came, she executed it flawlessly.
Stillâshe didn't look at him.
She responded when spoken to. She followed every instruction. She did everything perfectlyâexcept acknowledge his presence.
Karan's patience thinned.
The day before, she had been upsetâhe had expected that. But today, she was acting as if nothing had happened while making sure he was the only person she didn't interact with.
He gritted his teeth, gripping the chalk harder than necessary. Why did this bother him so much?
"Naina," he called, his voice even.
For a fraction of a second, he thought she would finally look at him.
She didn't.
She just nodded slightly, her gaze still fixed on the blackboard.
Karan exhaled sharply.
This was going to be a long day.
Dinner had begun, and the trainees were gathered, eating and chatting as usual. Karan sat with Captain Jain and Captain Prajapati, his mind occupiedâbut not by the meal in front of him.
His sharp eyes scanned the gathering, searching for someone he shouldn't be searching for.
Naina wasn't there.
For the past two days, she had been ignoring himâbut she never skipped a meal. Where was she?
The question irritated him more than it should have.
His fingers drummed against the wooden table as he glanced toward Kaveri, her closest friend. After a brief hesitation, he spokeâhis tone neutral, but the question was anything but casual.
"Naina kahaan hai?"
Kaveri, who had been talking to another trainee, stiffened slightly. Her spoon stopped midway to her mouth, and she shifted uncomfortably.
"Woh... so rahi hai," she said hesitantly.
Karan's brows furrowed. "Bina khaye?"
Kaveri bit her lip, clearly debating whether or not to answer. But one sharp look from him, and she sighed.
"Woh... uska mahina chal raha hai," she muttered under her breath, low enough that no one else could hear. "Isliye dard ho raha tha, toh so gayi bina khaye."
Karan blinked.
He wasn't an idiotâhe knew what she meant. Periods. That explained why Naina had been more exhausted than usual today, why she had lacked her usual energy during training.
Something about the thought unsettled him.
For two days, she had ignored him. Fine. That was his fault. But not eating?
He clenched his jaw, gripping his spoon tightly.
For some reason, the food in front of him suddenly didn't seem all that important anymore.