CHAPTER 2 — The Corridor

The corridor buzzed with chatter as students hurried to class—some leaning against walls, some laughing in circles, others nervously clutching books. But every time Professor Aarav passed by, a strange hush seemed to ripple through the commotion.

He was only a few years older than the graduating students, making him the youngest professor on campus. Yet nothing about him felt uncertain or inexperienced. His calm stride, quiet confidence, and unbothered expression drew attention without effort. Round glasses framed his serious eyes; a sling bag rested loosely on his shoulder, as if it belonged there.

He never raised his voice.

He never asked for attention.

But somehow, attention found him.

Students turned their heads as he walked past. Some whispered. Some stared too long. Some admired silently.

He was already a mystery to the freshmen — the professor who didn’t demand respect…

He simply commanded it.

Many had harmless crushes on him.

But no one dared to approach.

After all, how do you walk up to a storm that looks like silence?

The corridor lights reflected off the tiled floor as Aarav walked, his footsteps steady and unhurried. A few boys straightened when they saw him, pretending to act serious. A few girls nudged each other and giggled quietly. Seniors greeted him with respectful nods. Juniors froze like statues until he passed.

Not because he was scary…

but because he carried something rare.

Peace.

There was no unnecessary ego in his eyes, no hint of superiority. Just distance. A quiet wall around him. As if he had chosen silence over people long ago… and silence had chosen him back.

He stopped when a student bumped into another and their books scattered across the floor. Instead of scolding, Aarav simply bent down, picked up a notebook, dusted it gently, and handed it back.

“No running in the corridors,” he said softly.

No anger.

No irritation.

Just calm authority.

The students nodded quickly, not out of fear… but out of respect.

Aarav continued walking, pushing his glasses slightly up the bridge of his nose. Outside the classroom windows, the breeze brushed against the trees, faint sunlight slipping between the leaves — peaceful, quiet, comforting…

Just like him.

To others, he was perfect.

Smart. Composed. Mysterious.

But only he knew how heavy silence could sometimes feel. How quietness could comfort you… yet cage you at the same time. He had gotten used to it. Perhaps too used to it.

And life rarely lets peace remain untouched.

Because while he embraced silence…

another silence had just entered his world.

A silence with eyes full of curiosity.

A silence with a heart that still believed in warmth.

A silence that didn’t know she was about to collide with him.

Vida.

Two people unaware of each other.

Two paths unknowingly moving closer.

He walked ahead like the calm before rain.

She stepped forward like the wind that stirs everything softly.

Sooner or later…