Darren's blog

Late afternoon, hours later.

Sky thick with storm clouds.

The train slowed again, brakes screeching under a slate-grey sky. It was Ayan’s stop.

He rose. His body ached in every joint. His lip was split, jaw tight, knuckles raw. Veer looked up, bruised just as badly.

Their eyes locked.

The stare wasn’t a question.

It was a statement.

“One each.”

“Not over.”

Ayan stepped off the train. He didn’t speak. He didn’t gesture. He just began walking.

Not toward town. Not toward people.

Toward the freight yard behind the station,  an abandoned stretch of rusted tracks and open ground.

Veer followed.

Of course he did.

The sky broke open.

Heavy, cold rain hammered down, soaking them instantly. Shirts clung to skin, every bruise flared awake. Mud churned under their boots.

They stopped in an open clearing of wet concrete and dirt.

Ayan’s voice came low, steady:

“This time, nobody pulls us apart.”

Veer nodded once. No bravado. No smirk.

Just readiness.

They collided like two storms.

Ayan’s shoulder slammed into Veer’s chest, Veer gripped Ayan’s shirt and dragged him close.  fists swinging, elbows jamming, forearms crashing into ribs and jaw. Rain made everything slippery making their footing unstable, strikes heavy but imperfect.

Veer’s punch caught Ayan across the cheek, skin split open under the impact. Blood flowed down Ayan’s face, thin red streaks washed by rain. Ayan grabbed Veer’s hair and drove his forehead into Veer’s nose. A sharp crack. Veer’s vision flashed white, blood spurting from his nostril in a heavy rush.

They went down again wrestling in mud, hands slipping, breaths ragged. Ayan struck Veer’s eyebrow where it's opened a gash. Blood mixed with rain, dripping into Veer’s eye, blurring his sight. Veer didn’t stop, he threw a wild hook blindly, the punch connecting with Ayan’s jaw so hard it sent a spray of mud and spit out of his mouth.

They rolled, bodies slick, muscles screaming.

Veer got on top first  dropping three punches, not clean, but desperate. Ayan blocked the last, twisted his hips, and toppled Veer sideways.

They crawled back to standing, swaying, soaked,shaking.

Both bleeding.

Both exhausted.

Both refusing to fall.

Ayan tried to rush again but his boot slid in mud, just a fraction but just enough.

Veer stepped in and threw a short, brutal punch to Ayan’s jaw. 

Ayan’s body went slack for a split second enough to decide everything.

Veer followed with one final blow but not strong, barely controlled yet perfectly timed.

Ayan collapsed to the mud.

He pushed once,twice  then stopped.

Not defeated.

Just done.

Veer stood above him, chest heaving, rain hammering his skin.

No victory in his expression.

Only unfinished fire.

Ayan looked up, blood streaking down his face, breathing like each inhale was a battle.

The hatred didn’t fade.

It burned 

hotter.

They didn’t speak.

Because what they shared wasn’t over.

It had only begun.