Main Hoon. Na -

Main hoon. Na? — I am here, aren’t I?

“What if I can’t?” she whispered.

He wasn’t waiting for a bus.

He climbed.

She turned her head slightly, just enough to see his silhouette against the faint glow of the city. His face was smudged with exhaustion, his shirt torn at the elbow from where he’d tripped over a fallen billboard. His eyes, though—they weren’t pleading. They weren’t desperate. They were simply there . Unblinking. Solid. main hoon. na

“You’re right. I can’t know your creature. But I know mine.” He finally moved, sitting down cross-legged on the damp concrete, still keeping distance. “Mine tells me I’m invisible. That no one would notice if I stopped showing up. That every smile I give is just a performance.”

Now he stood outside the terrace gate of the old Tiwari mansion—her family’s abandoned property. The place she always fled to when the world became too heavy. The gate was unlocked. The staircase was dark. Main hoon

“Then why are you here?”

He didn’t sit beside her. He stood two feet behind, hands in his pockets, breathing still uneven. Not from the run anymore. From the weight of what he was about to say. “What if I can’t

“Arjun,” she said, shivering.

“I’m not here to fix you, Kavya.”