It was a cold autumn afternoon at Jaipur’s one of the most reputated School’s football coach. Between the boys from both the teams, the game was tied 2-2, and there were less than thirty seconds left on the clock. Everyone was exhausted, their legs burning and their lungs aching with every breath.

Young Naveen, barely 19 sprinted down the left side of the field. He was lean and fast, his messy black hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. His sharp eyes scanned the field as he dribbled past a heavy defender who tried to block him.

Just inside the penalty box, he spotted Randheer.

Randheer was taller, broader, and always easy to spot with his messy hairs, thick eyebrows and light moustaches. He snuck right between two defenders, slipping into an open spot like he was invisible.

Naveen didn't waste a second. He kicked the ball high into the air, making it curve perfectly toward his best friend.

Randheer popped the ball up with his chest to control it. The whole stadium seemed to go quiet for a second. Naveen was so nervous and excited that he completely lost his cool.

"Goal kar, Randheer!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking.

Still running, with the ball dropping to his right foot, Randheer shot Naveen a quick, annoyed glare. It was that classic “Shut up, I know what I’m doing” look they had shared thousands of times since childhood.

Randheer turned back to the net, swung his leg, and kicked the ball hard right off the bounce. It flew like a bullet, past the goalkeeper’s outstretched hands, and slammed into the back of the net.

Thwack!

The final whistle blew, and the crowd went wild.

Randheer turned around, pointing directly at Naveen with a huge, toothy grin. Naveen ran straight toward him. They leaped into the air, slapped a loud high-five that stung both their palms, and locked each other in a tight hug, yelling and laughing as the rest of the team ran over to tackle them.

Another win for them. Another victory for their years of friendship and practice.

Everyone in the school knew it—if Naveen and Randheer were on the same team, no one could defeat them.

A little later, the celebration moved straight to the campus’s canteen. The air was warm here unlike the coach, smelling of spicy fried food and hot tea. The team had pushed a few long wooden tables together, cluttering them with empty paper cups and plates piled high with hot, crispy samosas.

Naveen was busy re-enacting his pass, waving his arms dramatically as he told the entire goal story. Without looking, he reached down to grab the last golden samosa on his plate.

Right when out of nowhere, a hand darted in. Randheer scrolling something from his other hand, snatched it right off the paper and before he was to take a bite, Naveen mumbled through the mouth already stuffed in mouth, "Kameene, rakh mera samosa..."

Randheer gave him one look and then with a grin, took a huge bite before Naveen could even touch it.

Naveen froze, looking down at his empty plate, then slowly looked up.

Randheer stood there with his cheeks stuffed full like a squirrel. Half of the stolen samosa was still sticking out of his mouth.

Randheer smirked, stuck out his potato-covered tongue, and shoved the entire rest of the samosa into his mouth in one go.

"You greedy thief!" Naveen yelled, lunging across the table and grabbing Randheer by the collar of his shirt.

"Hey, I scored the winning goal!" Randheer choked out, wheezing with laughter as he tried to push Naveen away. "I get free food for life!"

"That was my samosa!" Naveen shouted, knocking Randheer backward onto the bench.

They both tumbled into a silly, messy wrestling match—knocking over paper cups, pulling each other into headlocks, and swatting at each other like little kids. Around them, their teammates banged on the tables, laughing uncontrollably and throwing crumpled paper napkins at the two best friends..

“Randheer!!” Naveen shouted angrily but even in anger, even after stolen samosa, he held immense love for his childhood bestfriend, Unlike today…

"Randheer Singh Thakur."

The moment the name dropped, Naveen's blood turned to ice, then instantly boiled. His jaw tightened until the bone ached, and his dark eyes locked onto his personal assistant with a sharp, warning glare.

"I will never step foot anywhere near that man, or anything connected to him," Naveen said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register.

His PA shifted uncomfortably, holding a leather-bound folder against his chest. "I understand, sir, but he's in London now, expanding his family business globally. If we could look past the history and secure a partnership with him, our financial troubles would vanish overnight—"

"I said no." Naveen cut him off, slamming a flat palm against the polished wood of his desk. The echo bounced off the walls. "His partnership is just another word for betrayal. That man doesn't know how to do anything else. I don't even want his name spoken within my company walls."

"Yes, sir."

"Get the car ready. We're going to see Balraj Dev Singh. My father's old friend."

"Yes, sir." The PA just nodded.

Half an hour later, they sat in Balraj's sprawling office. It smelled faintly of expensive cigar smoke and old leather, a room belonging to a man who always calculated his moves three steps ahead.

"Aao aao, Naveen! Tumhara hi intezaar tha," (Come, come, Naveen! I was waiting only for you,) Balraj said, flashing a wide, overly hospitable smile as he stood to greet him.

"Thank you, Mr. Singh. Aapne mujhse milne ke liye time nikala." (You made time to meet me.)

"Arey, what's there to thank? You're Keshav's boy. It broke my heart when I heard about Keshav and Bhabhi-sa. Tell me, are you holding up okay?"

Naveen looked up and nodded, "It's been two years, Mr. Singh."

"Haan." Balraj sat back down, steepling his fingers.

Naveen looked at him and didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Aap jaante hain na main yahan kyun aaya hun." (You know why I came here, don't you.)

Balraj nodded and leaned forward, a knowing, almost mocking glint in his eyes.

"Your father's business is sinking fast. No one in the market is willing to risk a rupee on your company right now, so you need someone with deep pockets to step in."

Naveen swallowed the bitter pill of his humiliation and gave a stiff, heavy nod.

Balraj smirked, resting his chin on his hands. "Theek hai. Main madad karunga." (Fine. I will help.)

For a brief, desperate second, the suffocating weight on Naveen's chest lifted. A spark of pure relief flickered in his eyes. "Aap sach mein?" (Are you serious?)

Balraj nodded slowly. "Par meri ek shart hai." (But I have one condition.)

"Kaisi shart?" (What condition?)

Balraj smirked and announced,

"Tumhe meri beti se shaadi karni hogi."

(You will have to marry my daughter.)

Naveen froze. The words took a moment to register. "Shaadi?"

But Balraj only nodded,

"Haan, meri beti Navya. She's in her first year of college now. You know her, you've met her at the functions."

"Ji, par…" Naveen stammered, genuinely bewildered. "Aap apni beti ki shaadi mujhse kyun karana chahte hain? (Why do you want to marry your daughter to me?)

He lowered his head and continued, "You know my company is on the verge of bankruptcy. If I don't secure funding in three months, I might not even have enough to pay my younger siblings' school fees. Why would you chain your daughter to a sinking ship?"

Balraj waved a hand dismissively, putting on a mask of paternal concern. "Main toh tumhari hi bhalai soch raha hoon, Naveen. Sirf madad karta, toh baat alag thi. Is tarah dono parivaaron mein ek pakka rishta jud jayega. Tumhari ek chhoti behen bhi toh hai—eklauti hai. Navya bilkul maa ki tarah uska dhyan rakhegi."

(I'm only thinking of your good, Naveen. If I only helped, it would be different. This way, a firm bond will form between both families. You have a younger sister too, your only one. Navya will take care of her just like a mother.)

"Navya bhi toh chhoti hi hai," (Navya is also young,) Naveen countered, his tone hardening. "Unhone abhi abhi school pura kiya hai. Is baare mein kya khayal hai aapka?"

(She has just finished school.What are your thoughts on that?)

Balraj's friendly facade slipped for a fraction of a second, his eyes narrowing. "Tum shaadi hi nahi karna chahte meri beti se, haina?Kahin tumhe koi aur toh pasand nahi—"

(What is it? You don't want to marry my daughter at all? You don't happen to like someone else, do you—)

"Mera woh matlab nahi tha," (That's not what I meant,) Naveen interrupted firmly, his voice cutting through the office. "Zindagi mein mere liye sabse zaroori sirf aur sirf mera parivaar hai—mere bhai-behen.Uske alawa koi rishta, koi dost, mere liye koi maayne nahi rakhta."

(In life, the most important thing for me is only and only my family: my brother and sister. Beyond that, no relationship, no friend, holds any meaning for me.)

Balraj studied him for a long, quiet moment, then shrugged. "Theek hai. Main pandit ji se jald se jald shaadi ki tareekh nikalwa deta hoon." (Alright. I'll have the priest fix a wedding date as soon as possible.)

Naveen could only nod in agreement. The drive from Balraj's office to Pratap Mansion felt heavy. When the grand iron gates groaned open, Naveen stared up at the estate with a quiet ache. Once a home overflowing with warmth and laughter, with his parents, his family.. it now felt like a hollow shell that constantly reminded him of who was missing.

He stepped inside, greeted by an unusual kind of chaos in the foyer.

His ten-year-old sister, Ragini, had basically declared a state of emergency. She sat cross-legged on the center sofa with her back to the entrance, arms tightly crossed over her chest. Standing in front of her in a neat line were the household staff: the cook holding a silver platter of untouched food, the gardener holding a freshly picked bouquet, and the cleaner holding her favorite drawing canvas and music player. They looked like an army battalion awaiting reprimand from a very angry general.

One of the maids stepped forward cautiously. "Princess… kuch toh kha lijiye. Subah se kuch nahi khaya hai aapne." (Princess… please eat something. You haven't eaten anything since morning.)

"Nahi! Nahi! Nahi!" Ragini stomped her foot against the sofa cushion. "Aap log bhai ko kyun nahi bula dete? Main bhai ke bina kuch nahi khaungi!" She announced angrily.

(Why don't you all call Bhai? I won't eat anything without Bhai!)

Before anyone could coax her further, Naveen stepped into her line of sight. "Aur agar aapke bhai aa gaye, toh?" (And if your brother has come, then?)

Ragini's face lit up instantly. She scrambled off the sofa, sprinted across the room, and crashed straight into Naveen's arms, burying her face into his jacket as she let out a shaky breath.

"Aap kahan the, bhai? Call kyun nahi pick kiya? Pata hai aaj school mein kya hua? Pehli baar Ragini Pratap Singh kisi test mein second aayi hai! I want to be first, Bhai!"

(Where were you, Bhai? Why didn't you pick up the call? Do you know what happened at school today? For the first time, Ragini Pratap Singh came second in a test!)

Naveen wrapped his arms tightly around her small frame, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. "Second koi buri position nahi hoti, bachha. Aur woh toh class test tha. Finals mein Ragini Pratap Singh hi first aayegi."

(Second is not a bad position, child. And that was just a class test. In the finals, it will be Ragini Pratap Singh who comes first.)

Ragini sniffled, a tiny, proud smile finally breaking through her pout.

Naveen pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. "Ab yeh batao, khana kyun nahi kha rahi ho?" (Now tell me, why aren't you eating?)

Her lower lip quivered. "Mumma-Papa ki yaad aa rahi hai… Mumma apne haath se khilati thi, aur Papa favorite story padhte the." (I'm missing Mumma and Papa… Mumma used to feed me with her own hands, and Papa used to read my favorite story.)

A sharp pang twisted in Naveen's chest, but he forced a reassuring smile, pulling her back against him. "Main khilaunga na apne haath se. Aur story bhi padhunga. Theek hai?"

(I'll feed you with my own hands. And I'll read the story too. Okay?)

She didn't answer with words; she just buried her face deeper into his chest, her small hands gripping the fabric of his shirt.

They walked over to the dining table together. True to his word, Naveen fed her himself, listening patiently as Ragini chattered about her day to fill the deafening silence of the grand dining hall.

Feeding Ragini, Naveen paused mid bite, as he remembered his conversation with Balraj today, he suddenly asked, "Ragini… aapko Navya kaisi lagti hai?" (Ragini… how do you find Navya?)

Ragini blinked, her expression turning thoughtful. "Navyaa? Haan, woh ghamandi uncle ki beti! 12th ki topper thi woh. I want to be like her."

Her eyes shined.

(Navya? Yes, that arrogant uncle's daughter! She was the 12th-grade topper.)

"Achhi lagti hai aapko?" (Do you like her?) Naveen asked again.

Ragini nodded immediately and replied,

"Bahut achhi! Annual function ke din jab mera makeup kharab ho gaya tha na, unhone khud aakar theek kiya tha, jabki unka apna performance mujhse pehle tha. She's so sweet."

(Very much! On the day of the annual function, when my makeup got ruined, she came herself and fixed it, even though her own performance was right before mine.)

Naveen offered a faint, tired smile and ruffled her hair.

"Bhai, agle mahine mera birthday hai," Ragini said suddenly, her eyes sparkling with hope. "Can we have a grand party? Like before?"

(Bhai, my birthday is next month,)

"Sure," Naveen nodded softly. "Kya gift chahiye aapko?" (What gift do you want?)

Ragini looked at his face for moment before she whispered,

"Aapki smile." (Your smile.)

"Woh toh main abhi bhi kar raha hoon, lado." (I'm doing that right now, doll.) Naveen replied widening his smile.

But Ragini shook her head,

"Real waali," (The real one,) she whispered, her young eyes looking far too perceptive.

Before Naveen could answer, a servant hurried over from the hallway. "Princess, Kunwar-sa ka phone aaya hai boarding school se!" (Princess, Kunwar-sa has called from boarding school!)

Ragini squealed with delight, letting go of his hand and racing toward the landline to talk to her older brother, Siddharth. Naveen watched her go, leaning back in his chair as he sighed. The memories surfacing again.

Two years ago. Midnight. The empty streets of Jaipur.

The rain poured heavily, turning the road into a dark, shining mess under the streetlights. Naveen stood in the middle of the flooded street, gripping Randheer's collar tightly.

Tears mixed with the rain running down his face as he shook his former best friend in anger.

"Saale, kyun kiya tune yeh? Kyun maara mere Ma-Baba ko? Kyun, Randheer?!"
(You bastard, why did you do this? Why did you kill my Mumma-Papa? Why, Randheer?!)

"Naveen, listen to me! Main samjha sakta hoon!" Randheer tried, but Naveen stood his ground. He screamed angrily,

"Kya Samjha sakta hai? Ki tune apne parents ka badla liya? Mere Baba ne tere parents ko nahi maara tha! Us din toh woh Jaipur mein the bhi nahi!"

(What are you going to explain? That you killed my parents to avenge yours? My father didn't kill your parents! He wasn't even in Jaipur that day!)

"Naveen, jaisa tu soch raha hai waisa nahi hai! Maine Mr. and Mrs. Pratap ko nahi maara! Unka accident meri car se nahi hua tha!"

(Naveen, it's not what you think! I didn't kill Mr. and Mrs. Pratap! Their accident wasn't caused by my car!)

"Achha?" Naveen gave a bitter laugh. "Toh accident spot par apni scratched car ke saath tu kya kar raha tha, Randheer Singh Thakur?!"
(Oh, really? Then what were you doing at the accident site with your car, Randheer Singh Thakur?!)

"Woh ek misunderstanding hai. Meri baat toh sun—" Randheer screamed back at the top of his lungs, still trying to save the friendship which was already broken in so many pieces, none could count..

(It's a misunderstanding. Just listen to me—)

But Naveen didn't listen.

He shoved Randheer back with all his strength, making him stumble on the wet road.

"Ek khooni ki baat sunun main? Ek kaatil ki baat maanu main? Tune mere Ma-Baba ko maara hai! Mujhe aur mere bhai-behen ko anaath kar diya hai!"
(Why should I listen to a murderer? Why should I believe a killer? You killed my Mumma-Papa! You left me and my siblings orphans!)

"Insaan kehlane ke laayak nahi hai tu. Aaj ke baad apni shakal mat dikhana mujhe!"
(You're not even worthy of being called a human being. Don't ever show your face to me again!)

"Bhool jaa ki kabhi Naveen Pratap Singh tera dost tha. Tu kuch nahi hai mera!"
(Forget that Naveen Pratap Singh was ever your friend. You mean nothing to me!)

"Naveen—" Randheer called out, stepping toward him.

But Naveen turned away, got into his car, and slammed the door.

A moment later, the car disappeared into the dark, rain-soaked road, leaving Randheer standing alone in the storm...