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You never truly know the weight of the storms hidden behind the brightest smiles.

The summer holidays flew by in a beautiful, sun-drenched blur, bringing a much-needed healing touch to the group after the grueling stress of the first-year exams. For Isha, Purvi, and Riya, this vacation became the solid foundation of an unbreakable sisterhood.

Every single evening, without fail, the three girls met at the neighborhood sports complex to play badminton. What started as casual matches quickly evolved into a daily ritual, and with their matching energy, shared laughter, and effortless style, they had officially started forming the campus's ultimate It-Girl gang.

After their sweaty court sessions, they would huddle up at Riya's place, ordering spicy snacks, binge-watching their favorite K-dramas and C-dramas, and staying up late playing board games like Business. The rolling of the dice and fighting over fictional properties brought a pure, unadulterated joy that none of them had felt in a long time.

There is something profoundly magical about female friendships. It's a safe haven built on a foundation of unspoken understanding, where you don't have to hide your weaknesses or wear a mask.

A few times during the holidays, Isha would randomly feel down, her mind spiraling back to the heavy financial constraints and mounting emotional stress at her home.

But she never had the chance to drown in her thoughts. The moment her smile faltered, Purvi and Riya would swoop in instantly, wrapping her in warm hugs, cracking ridiculous jokes, and cheering her up until her genuine laughter echoed through the room. They became her protective circle, proving that while life could be harsh, having the right people by your side could make any storm manageable.

Meanwhile, the boys had their own way of spending the summer. For Akshat, the holiday carried a distinct purpose.

Haunted by the brutal encounter at Tikona Fort and the sight of his own helplessness against the goons, he officially enrolled in a rigorous karate camp.

He spent his mornings practicing stances and punching heavy bags, realizing the vital importance of self-defense. He was determined never to let the people he cared about stand unprotected again.

On the other hand, Shivansh and Yash spent their golden summer afternoons meeting up with their old childhood gang for nostalgic cricket matches in the local colony grounds.

It was the epitome of classic, nostalgic student life-arguing over a controversial run-out, fighting for the batting turn before the streetlights came on, and drinking local soda from the corner shop while sitting on old brick ledges. It was a simple, beautiful escape from the pressures of engineering and family expectations.

But all good things must come to an end. The carefree summer holidays were finally over, and the heavy iron gates of the college swung open once again to welcome the students into the demanding chaos of the Second Year.

On one of the very first days of the new semester, the campus was buzzing with students rushing to clear their academic dues.

Riya's father, Raghav, a highly respected and distinguished advocate, had personally come to the college administrative block to clear his daughter's second-year fees.

Riya was happily walking by his side down the bustling main corridor, chatting about her new schedule, when Raghav suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

His eyes locked onto a familiar face standing near the notice board. A warm, genuinely compassionate smile spread across Raghav's face.

"Beta, you are here?" Raghav called out softly.

Yash turned around, his usual animated expression freezing for a fraction of a second before a polite, respectful look took over.

Raghav stepped closer, placing a kind, fatherly hand on Yash's shoulder. "How are you? I hope you are doing well... and Sunandha ji kaisi hai?" ("...and how is Sunandha ji?")

Riya's jaw dropped slightly. She stood there completely shocked, her eyes darting back and forth between her father and Yash.

Her mind raced-how on earth did her sophisticated, lawyer father know the campus's biggest prankster? And why was he asking about Yash's mother with such concern?

Yash swallowed hard, his posture tightening noticeably. The playful spark that usually defined his entire personality vanished, replaced by an uncomfortable, guarded look.

"Hi, uncle. She... she is doing well now. Thank you."

Raghav sighed gently, his grip tightening supportively on the boy's shoulder. "Yes, beta. Time heals every wound. Just stay strong."

The conversation was clearly striking a deeply sensitive chord inside Yash. He looked incredibly uncomfortable under the weight of the words, his eyes shifting nervously as he tried to find a quick escape route.

"Um... uncle, actually, I need to go see a faculty member urgently for a project submission. It was really nice meeting you, uncle."

Without waiting for a response, Yash offered a quick, forced smile, turned on his heel, and walked away rapidly, his shoulders tense.

As Yash disappeared down the hallway, Raghav watched his retreating figure and let out a long, heavy sigh, his voice filled with deep sorrow. "Itni choti umar mein kuch bachon ko kya kya dekhna aur sehna padta hai..."

("At such a young age, what all some children have to see and endure...")

Riya could no longer control her overwhelming curiosity. She grabbed her father's arm, her eyes wide.

"Papa? What happened? How do you know Yash, and why are you saying all this?"

Raghav looked at his daughter's anxious face, then gently shook his head, tapping her cheek.

"Not now, Riya. Ghar ja kar batavunga. (I will tell you after going home.) Let's finish the paperwork first."

After paying the fees, Raghav left for his office, leaving Riya standing in the middle of the crowded corridor.

Her mind was in a complete absolute knot. The image of Yash-the boy who spent twenty-four hours a day making ridiculous jokes, teasing her relentlessly, and acting like he didn't have a single care in the world-looking so vulnerable and exposed wouldn't leave her.

Her suspicion was deeply triggered. She decided right then and there that she was going to get the full truth from her father the second she reached home.

While Riya was completely lost in her swirling thoughts, walking toward her classroom, the quiet atmosphere was abruptly broken.

Deepak, the Class Representative (CR) of Section 2 (S2), came marching up to her with a look of pure, stubborn defiance on his face.

"Riya!" Deepak called out, crossing his arms. "PD (Program Design) exam ke important questions hum nahi mangenge. S1 ko hi mangna padega!"

("We will not ask for the Program Design exam's important questions. Section 1 will have to ask for them!")

Riya blinked, snapped out of her trance, and looked at him in total shock.

"What? Lekin PD mam ke favorite to tum ho na? Tum mangoge to vo degi, mujhe nahi degi! Aur waise bhi unko mujhse chid hai kyunki mein unke kaam bhi zyada nahi karti na. Please mang lo!"

("But you are PD mam's favorite, right? If you ask, she will give them, she won't give them to me! And anyway, she is annoyed with me because I don't really do much of her extra work. Please ask for them!")

"No way!" Deepak snapped back, his voice rising with accumulated resentment.

"Nahi, kal unhone class mein jab humne important questions manga tha, tab bola ki S1 wale kabhi nahi mangte, tumhi logo ko chahiye! And this seriously triggered a rebellion in our gang. We felt incredibly offended, Riya! From the first year, all the important questions always come from S2 to S1. You guys quietly take them from us, score high, and the faculty thinks you guys are absolute geniuses! That's why, from now on, tum log lao aur hume dedo!"

("No, yesterday in class when we asked for important questions, she said that Section 1 students never ask, only you guys need them! ... That's why, from now on, you guys bring them and give them to us!")

Listening to his stubborn declaration caused a massive, violent jolt to run through Riya's system. Her stomach literally twisted into a knot. Extracting important questions from the notoriously arrogant PD mam before the mid-term exams wasn't just a regular task-it was like trying to break and move a literal mountain single-handedly.

Anxious and stressed, Riya hurried back to her classroom and gathered her squad, quickly explaining the S2 rebellion to everyone. The class instantly filled with groans and panicked murmurs.

But then, to everyone's absolute, jaw-dropping surprise, Purvi-the usually quiet, sweet, "Haan koi nahi, hum khud manage karlenge" ("Yeah it's okay, we will manage ourselves") girl-suddenly stood up. Her eyes flashed with a highly hilarious, unexpected streak of absolute determination.

"Oh, please! Hum jayenge aur bheekmange banke maangenge! Chalo!" Purvi declared dramatically, rolling up her sleeves.
("We will go and beg like literal beggars! Come on!")

Before Riya or Isha could even process this entirely new avatar of their usually composed friend, Purvi grabbed both of their hands and aggressively dragged them straight toward the staff room.

Entering the faculty cabin, Riya cleared her throat nervously, trying to sound as sweet as possible.

"Good afternoon, Mam... actually, we were wondering if we could get some important guidelines or questions for the upcoming PD mid-terms? Please, Mam..."

PD mam sat back in her revolving chair, completely dripping with pure attitude, dramatic swag, and a condescending smirk.

"No way, girls. Itna aasaan hai kya? Main nahi dungi. (Is it that easy? I won't give them.) And anyway, you don't get leaked questions in the final semester exams, right? So why should you get them in the mid-terms? Go study the entire textbook."

Just as Riya was about to back down in defeat, Purvi stepped right out of her gentle self, moving directly to the front of the desk. She leaned in, her face morphing into the most dramatic, hilarious, and exaggerated pleading expression the girls had ever seen.

"Mam, please! Aise mat kijiye, Mam! (Don't do this, Mam!)" Purvi literally began to nag, her voice dropping into a comical, high-pitched whine.

"Mam, you don't know our tragic schedule! We have two heavy exams on the exact same day-one in the morning, one in the afternoon! Without your life-saving important questions, our brains will completely fry, Mam! We will literally fail! Please, Mam... for the final semester exams, we promise we will give our hundred percent and make you proud! Bas is baar bacha lijiye! (Just save us this one time!)"

Purvi kept going, completely refusing to leave the desk, nagging, whining, and literally begging with her hands folded, completely breaking all her usual boundaries of shyness.

Standing right behind her, Isha and Riya were witnessing this hilarious, unfiltered side of Purvi for the very first time in their lives. Their stomachs were literally aching as they bit their lips violently, turning away to control their explosive, roaring laughter. It was absolute comedy gold.

PD mam stared at Purvi's relentless, unyielding begging, completely exhausted and overwhelmed by the theatrical display.

She threw her hands up in defeat. "Fine! Stop it! Chalo, diya important questions! (Fine, I give you the important questions!) Take a pen and note down these twenty questions, and leave my cabin right now!"

"Thank you, Mam! You are an absolute angel!" Purvi chirped instantly, switching off her dramatic tears in a split second.

The three girls quickly scribbled the questions and practically sprinted out of the staff room, bursting into a loud, ecstatic fit of celebratory laughter the moment the door closed behind them.

As they walked down the corridor, waving the precious paper like a trophy, Yash and Akshat happened to be passing by. Yash's sharp eyes instantly spotted the paper in Purvi's hand. Recognizing the format, his eyes lit up, and he instantly lunged forward to snatch it. "Oho! Important questions! Give it here, let me copy!"

Before his fingers could even touch the paper, Riya sharply stepped right in the middle, blocking him firmly with her shoulder and shooting him a strict look.

"Not happening, Yash! Abhi nahi. WhatsApp group mein share honge, jab CR post karegi! (Not right now. They will be shared in the WhatsApp group when the CR posts them!)"

Yash immediately stepped back, placing a hand on his hip, rolling his eyes with peak dramatic sarcasm. "Aagayi maharani... mein CR hoon, jhanda leke! (Here comes the queen... 'I am the CR, carrying the flag!')"

The pure, hilarious mockery in Yash's voice was the absolute last straw. Isha and Purvi completely lost their control and burst out into loud, echoing laughter.

Riya sharply turned around and gave both of them a lethal, terrifying death-glare. Isha and Purvi instantly choked on their laughter, clamping their hands over their mouths and stopping dead in their tracks, while Yash smirked triumphantly.

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