Vikram hesitated for a long moment, hope and skepticism warring on his face. Finally: "Yes. Yeah, I would."
"Good. Meet me by the old science lab after school today. And trust me."
***
Krishna found Arjun in the gym during the free period, shooting baskets alone. The rhythmic thump of the ball against wood echoed in the empty space. Krishna entered quietly and stood watching until Arjun noticed him.
"Can I help you?" Arjun asked, not unkindly but with the slight wariness of someone used to maintaining boundaries.
"Maybe," Krishna said. "Or maybe I can help you. Depends on how honest you're willing to be."
Arjun's expression closed off. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You're miserable," Krishna said bluntly. "You've built this perfect image—basketball captain, popular guy, always laughing, always confident—but it's exhausting. And it's keeping you from the people you actually care about."
Arjun's hands tightened on the basketball. "You're a tenth standard kid. You don't know anything about me."
"I know you miss Vikram," Krishna said quietly. "I know you cut him off because you were scared your new friends would think less of you. I know you regret it. And I know you don't know how to fix it without admitting you were wrong, which would require admitting you care what other people think, which would make you look weak."
The basketball fell from Arjun's hands, bouncing away across the gym floor.
"How did you..."
"I'm observant," Krishna said. It was becoming his standard answer. "Look, I'm not here to judge you. I'm here because I think you want to fix this, but you don't know how. Am I wrong?"
Arjun sank down onto the bleachers, his carefully maintained facade crumbling. "It's not that simple. If I suddenly start hanging out with Vikram again, the guys will think... they'll say..."
"That you're being yourself instead of performing a role?"
"That I'm weak. That I can be manipulated. That I care too much about what an unpopular kid thinks."
"And you care what they think of you caring what Vikram thinks?" Krishna sat down beside him. "That's exhausting, isn't it? Caring about everyone's opinion except your own?"
Arjun was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was raw. "I didn't mean for it to go this far. At first, I just... I wanted to fit in with the basketball guys. They were cool, and I was finally cool, and it felt good. But then I couldn't hang out with Vikram without them making comments. Calling him names. Making fun of me for having a 'loser' friend. So I thought if I just... distanced myself for a bit, waited until the teasing died down..."
"But it never did."
"No. And then too much time passed, and Vikram hated me, and I hated myself, and I didn't know how to bridge that gap without looking pathetic."
Krishna stood up. "Come with me."
"What? Where?"
"Old science lab. Right now. Unless you'd rather spend the rest of the year pretending to be happy while actually being lonely?"
Arjun stared at him. Then, to Krishna's surprise, he laughed—a real laugh, edged with relief and disbelief. "You're kind of intense for a tenth standard kid, you know that?"
"So I've been told. Are you coming or not?"
Arjun hesitated for only a moment. Then he stood up. "Okay. Let's do this before I lose my nerve."
***
The old science lab was rarely used, tucked away in the oldest part of the school building. When Krishna led Arjun inside, Vikram was already there, sitting on one of the lab benches, his expression guarded.
The two former friends stared at each other.
"I'm going to leave you two alone," Krishna said. "But before I do, here's the deal: You both get ten minutes. In those ten minutes, you're going to say everything you've been afraid to say. Vikram, you're going to tell Arjun how he hurt you. Arjun, you're going to tell Vikram why you made the choices you did. No performing, no protecting feelings, no pretending everything's fine. Just truth."
"And if we can't—" Vikram started.
"Then you'll spend the rest of high school pretending the other doesn't exist, and you'll both always wonder what might have happened if you'd been brave enough to try," Krishna interrupted. "Your choice."
He walked to the door, paused, and looked back. "For what it's worth, real friendship is worth more than anyone's opinion of you. Even your own, sometimes."
Then he left, closing the door behind him.
He stood outside in the hallway, not quite leaving, making sure they actually talked. Through the door, he heard raised voices—anger at first, defensive and hurt. Then quieter voices. Then, after several minutes, something that sounded like Arjun crying.
Krishna smiled and walked away.
**[ASSISTANCE PROVIDED: GENUINE. CORE ISSUE ADDRESSED: YES. OPPORTUNITY FOR RECONCILIATION CREATED: YES. OUTCOME DEPENDENT ON SUBJECTS' CHOICES, AS IT SHOULD BE.]**
**[PROGRESS: 2/3 INDIVIDUALS HELPED]**
**[KARMIC POINTS EARNED: +10]**
**[NOTE: THE GREATEST HELP IS OFTEN SIMPLY CREATING SPACE FOR TRUTH. WISDOM DEEPENING.]**
Twenty minutes later, Krishna's phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.
*"Thank you. We're talking. Really talking. I don't know if we'll be friends again, but at least we're honest now. - Vikram"*
Another text came moments later, from a different unknown number.
*"I don't know how you did that, but I owe you. Seriously. - Arjun"*
Krishna pocketed his phone, satisfaction warm in his chest.
*Two down. One to go.*
***
## **Third Need: The Small Voice That Needed Hearing**
The final bell rang, and students poured out of classrooms like water from a broken dam. Krishna gathered his things slowly, in no particular rush. The System had been quiet since the situation with Arjun and Vikram, but he could feel it waiting, expectant.
He had until sunset. One more person to help.
As he exited the school building, heading toward the main gate, he heard it—a sound so small, so easily lost in the ambient noise of the city, that he almost missed it.
Crying. A child, very young, trying to muffle sobs.
Krishna's enhanced perception locked onto the sound immediately. He turned, scanning the area, and spotted a small figure partially hidden behind the banyan tree in the courtyard—the same tree where he'd eaten lunch earlier.
A little girl, maybe six or seven years old, wearing a faded pink dress. She clutched a worn backpack and had tear tracks running down her dusty cheeks. She was trying very hard to be quiet, to be invisible, succeeding so well that the hundreds of students flowing past her didn't even notice she existed.
**[SYSTEM: INDIVIDUAL IDENTIFIED. DISTRESS LEVELS: HIGH. SUBJECT: VULNERABLE MINOR. PROCEED WITH CARE.]**
Krishna approached slowly, making sure not to startle her. He crouched down a few feet away, making himself less intimidating.
"Hey," he said softly. "Are you okay?"
The little girl looked up, her eyes red and frightened. She shook her head mutely.
"What's your name?"
"Aanya," she whispered.
"Hi, Aanya. I'm Krishna. Can you tell me what's wrong?"
Fresh tears spilled over. "I... I can't find my brother. He's supposed to pick me up from school, but he's not here, and I don't know where he is, and I don't have a phone to call him, and—" Her words dissolved into hiccupping sobs.
Krishna felt his heart clench. "Okay, okay. Deep breaths. Which school do you go to?"
Aanya pointed toward the government primary school across the street from St. Xavier's. The two schools shared a wall, separated by barely fifty meters.
"And your brother—he's a student at my school?"
She nodded, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "He's in ninth standard. His name is Sameer. He always picks me up, but today he didn't come, and the teacher said I had to wait here, but it's been so long..."
Krishna checked his watch. It was nearly 4 PM. Most students had left by now. If Aanya's brother was supposed to pick her up at 3:30 and hadn't shown, something was definitely wrong.
"Do you know where Sameer usually is after school? Does he have a club or sports practice?"
"Sometimes he goes to the computer lab. He's learning programming."
That was a start. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to take you to find Sameer. We'll check the computer lab first, and if he's not there, we'll figure out the next step together. Does that sound good?"
Aanya looked at him with a mixture of hope and lingering fear. "You promise you'll help me find him?"
"I promise," Krishna said, offering his hand.
She took it with her small, slightly sticky fingers, and together they walked back into St. Xavier's.
The computer lab was on the second floor, and Krishna hoped they wouldn't be stopped by teachers questioning why a tenth standard student was escorting a primary school child through the building. Fortunately, most faculty had retreated to the staff room by now.
The computer lab was locked, the lights off. No Sameer.
Aanya's lower lip trembled. "He's not here."
"Don't worry. We'll find him." Krishna thought quickly. If Sameer wasn't at his usual spots, where else might a ninth standard boy be? "Does your brother have friends he usually hangs out with?"
"He talks about someone named Rohit sometimes. They work on computer stuff together."
Krishna knew Rohit—a ninth standard boy with a reputation for being a tech genius. "I know where Rohit might be. Come on."
He led Aanya to the library, to the same quiet section where he'd talked to Ravi earlier. And there, in a corner partially hidden by bookshelves, he found them.
To be continue.