The morning sun over the school grounds was a lie. It looked bright and cheerful, glinting off the frost on the cricket pitch, but it offered absolutely no warmth.

Kai stood by the lockers, his head resting against the cold metal, eyes closed. His body felt heavy, drained of all energy. It wasn't just the lack of sleep; it was the lingering, phantom sensation of Anastasia's living room. Every time he blinked, he saw red silk. Every time he breathed, he smelled vanilla.

"Bro, I'm actually cooked. I'm deep-fried. I'm tandoori chicken."

Kai cracked one eye open. Rohan was pacing in front of him, clutching a thick Chemistry refresher guide like it was a holy scripture. Rohan's hair was a mess, and he looked like he had snorted espresso powder for breakfast.

"Relax, Rohan," Kai mumbled, shifting his weight. His legs still felt a little weak. "It's just a unit test."

"Just a unit test?" Rohan stopped pacing and grabbed Kai's shoulders, shaking him. "Kai, listen to me. Chapter 4? Chemical Kinetics? I don't know it. I don't know how fast the reaction is. I don't care how fast the reaction is. And Organic? Bro, if they ask me about Benzene rings, I'm going to draw a smiley face inside the hexagon and walk out."

Kai let out a dry laugh. "At least you know it's a hexagon. I thought it was a circle."

Rohan stared at him, horrified. "You didn't study at all? I thought you were busy last night? Your mom said you were at extra classes."

Kai flinched. The lie tasted like ash in his mouth. "Yeah. Biology. I was... drilling Biology."

"Well, that's great for your medical career, Dr. Kai," Rohan snapped, checking his watch. "But unless you can diagnose why my titration failed, we are both failing Chemistry in exactly..." He looked at the clock on the wall. "Five minutes."

The bell rang. It was a shrill, hateful sound that signaled the start of the execution.

"Let's go," Kai sighed, pushing off the locker. "Maybe the paper is easy."

Rohan looked at him with pity. "It's set by Mr. Garg. He hates joy. He hates children. The paper will not be easy."

***************************************

The examination hall smelled of eraser dust, floor polish, and fear.

Kai slid into his seat at the far end of the third row. It was a window seat, which usually was a blessing, but today the grey sky outside just looked depressing.

To his right sat Irusha.

Kai barely knew her. In fact, most people barely knew her. Irusha had been in their class since Kindergarten—a permanent, quiet fixture in the background. She was the girl who always did her homework, never raised her hand, and spoke so softly you needed a hearing aid to catch the end of her sentences.

She was already organizing her desk with surgical precision: two blue pens, one black pen, a pencil sharpened to a lethal point, and a long ruler. She wore her winter uniform sweater two sizes too big, the sleeves pulled down over her hands so only her fingertips were visible. Her hair was in a neat, tight braid that rested over her shoulder.

She didn't look up when Kai sat down. She was staring at her desk, murmuring formulas to herself like a prayer.

"Alright, settle down!" Mr. Garg barked from the front, slapping a stack of papers onto the teacher's desk. He was a small man with a mustache that looked like a bristles brush and a temper to match. "Bags to the front. No cheating. No talking. If I see your eyes wander, I tear your paper. Clear?"

A collective murmur of "Yes, sir" rippled through the room.

The papers were passed back. The rustle of sheets moving from hand to hand sounded like a wave crashing.

Kai received his paper. He flipped it over.

Question 1: Define the rate law and explain the difference between order and molecularity of a reaction. (5 Marks)

Kai stared at the words. He recognized them.But he remembered nothing.

He skipped to Question 2. Draw the mechanism for the hydration of ethene.

Kai's mind flashed back to the night before. Hydration... fluid... viscosity... He groaned, burying his face in his hands. Stop it. Stop thinking about her lips. Think about ethene.

But his brain was empty. It was a vast, echoing wasteland. He had spent so much mental energy surviving Anastasia's lesson that he had absolutely no capacity left for Chemistry.

Ten minutes passed. Twenty minutes.

Around him, the room was filled with the furious scratching of pens. Rohan, two rows ahead, was writing something—probably a suicide note to his parents, but at least he was writing.

Kai's paper was pristine. Blank. A snowy field of failure.

He felt the panic rising in his throat, hot and acidic. This was it. He was going to fail. Again. Anastasia had warned him not to fail. I expect a return on my investment, she had said. If he failed this, would she stop the lessons? Or worse... would she punish him?

The thought sent a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

"Psst."

The sound was so faint Kai thought he imagined it.

He tapped his pen against the desk, staring hopelessly at the objective section. Section A: Multiple Choice (30 Marks). Even if he just guessed, he'd probably get negative marking.

"K-Kai..."

This time, it was undeniable.

Kai froze. He slowly turned his head to the right, keeping his movement minimal so Mr. Garg wouldn't spot him.

Irusha was sitting rigid in her seat, her posture perfect. She wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were glued to her own paper, and her left hand was clutching her pen like a lifeline. But her right hand...

Her right hand was slowly, agonizingly sliding her answer sheet toward the edge of her desk.

Kai blinked. What is she doing?

Irusha's face was hidden behind a curtain of hair, but he could see her ear turning a bright, violent shade of pink. She was terrified. This was the girl who probably apologized to the table if she bumped into it. And she was risking detention for him?

"I... I can see..." she whispered, her voice barely a breath, her lips hardly moving. "You haven't wrote... written anything."

Kai stared at her profile. "Irusha?" he mouthed.

She flinched slightly at her name but didn't pull back. She nudged the paper another inch. The big, bold letters of Section A were visible now. Her handwriting was neat, rounded, and perfect.

1.B 2. C 3. A 4. D 5.A 6.B

"The objectives..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "They are... thirty marks. Just... just copy the letters."

Kai looked at the front of the room. Mr. Garg was busy yelling at a student in the first row for sneezing too loudly.

Kai looked back at the girl next to him. She was trembling. She was literally shaking with fear, but she kept the paper there.

"Why?" Kai whispered back, genuinely confused. He had never spoken more than two words to her in twelve years.

Irusha finally turned her head, just a fraction. Behind her glasses, her brown eyes were wide and filled with a strange mixture of anxiety and kindness.

"Because..." she stammered, looking back down quickly. "Last week... in the cafeteria... you gave me your extra sandwich. When I forgot my tiffin."

Kai blinked. He vaguely remembered that. He wasn't being a hero; he just wasn't hungry that day because he had been too busy staring at Anastasia across the staff room.

"That's it?" Kai whispered.

"Please write," she begged softly, pushing the paper a millimeter closer. "Before Garg Sir turns around."

A wave of warmth hit Kai's chest—wholesome, pure, and completely different from the dark heat of the previous night. He looked at Irusha, this quiet, invisible girl who was currently breaking the biggest rule in the school code to save his ass because of a sandwich.

She was an angel. And he was a degenerate who smelled like sin.

"You're a lifesaver, Irusha," he whispered.

He didn't waste another second.

His pen flew across the page. 1.B 2. C 3. A 4. D 5.A 6.B

He didn't just copy; he changed the sequence slightly, skipped one or two on purpose so it wouldn't look identical. He was a bad student, but he was a smart cheater.

He finished the thirty questions in record time. Thirty marks. That was passing. That was safety.

"Done," he signaled with a small tap on his desk.

Irusha immediately, almost violently, snatched her paper back, covering it with her arm as if she had just smuggled nuclear codes. She let out a long, shaky exhale, her shoulders slumping.

For the rest of the hour, Kai pretended to think about the theory questions, writing nonsense about "electron excitement" that sounded vaguely scientific.

When the bell finally rang, the relief in the room was palpable.

"Pens down! Stop writing!" Garg shouted.

As the papers were collected, Kai turned to Irusha. She was packing her bag with frantic speed, clearly trying to escape the scene of the crime.

"Hey," Kai said, leaning over.

Irusha froze, clutching her pencil case to her chest. She looked up at him, her face still flushed pink. "Y-Yeah?"

Kai grinned—a genuine, boyish grin that made him look eighteen again, not like the stressed wreck he had been an hour ago.

"Thanks. Seriously. I was going to get a zero."

Irusha blinked, looking at his smile, and for a second, she seemed to short-circuit. She adjusted her glasses, looking down at her shoes.

"It's... it's okay," she squeaked. "Just... study next time, okay? Chemistry is... it's important."

"I will," Kai promised, lying through his teeth. "I owe you one. Lunch? My treat?"

Irusha's eyes went wide. "Oh! No! I mean... no, thank you! I have... I have to go to the library!"

She grabbed her bag and practically sprinted out of the row, tripping slightly over a chair leg before correcting herself and disappearing into the crowd of students leaving the hall.

Kai watched her go, chuckling softly.

"Dude!" Rohan slammed into his back. "I died. I actually passed away. I wrote the lyrics to a Taylor Swift song for Question 5. How did you do?"

Kai looked at the door where Irusha had vanished, then thought about the thirty marks secured in his answer sheet.

"I think I survived," Kai said.

"Lucky bastard," Rohan groaned. "Come on. Let's go to the canteen. I need to eat my feelings."

As they walked out into the corridor, the normalcy of school life began to settle around Kai. The jokes, the noise, the wholesome awkwardness of Irusha. It felt safe. It felt like where he belonged.

But then, he turned the corner toward the canteen.

And the safety shattered.

Standing at the end of the hallway, talking to the Principal, was Ms. Anastasia.

She wore a sharp black blazer today, professional and distant. But as Kai walked by, her head turned. Her eyes—those piercing, electric blue eyes—locked onto his across the crowded corridor.