The dawn sky above the Himalayan valley was painted in shades of orange and grey. The cold wind brushed against the proud flags fluttering at the gates of Himalayan Civil Academy, where the future protectors of the nation were about to begin their toughest journey.
The whistle of the parade commander cut through the quiet morning.
Every cadet stood in perfect lines on the training ground - backs straight, eyes forward, nerves trembling under the weight of discipline.
But one name - one presence - was missing.
Commando Vihaan Khurana.
Ground: 5:10 a.m.
Sameer pandey , dressed in a dark grey track suit, walked onto the field with the confident pace of a man who demanded perfection. His sharp jawline and cold eyes could make even the wind halt for permission.
Behind him, Arpita Singh followed, holding a clipboard and attendance sheet, her hair tied neatly, expression all business. Beside her, Dr. Sidharth kashyap , the head of medical, adjusted his cap and carried a file filled with health check reports.
Sameer's deep voice echoed across the field.
"Cadets! Attention!"
In one unified motion, everyone stood still.
Arpita began calling the roll:
"Cadet Ishita Rao."
"Present, ma'am!" Ishita's voice rang out clearly - cold, confident, and sharp as her attitude.
"Cadet Raghav Sharma."
"Present."
"Cadet Diya Mehra."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Cadet Aditya Rawat."
"Present."
"Cadet Komal Verma."
"Here."
"Cadet Arjun Singh."
"Yes, ma'am."
...and then she stopped.
"Cadet Vihaan Khurana?"
Silence.
Everyone looked around, trying not to laugh.
Sameer's eyes hardened. "Where is Mr. Khurana?"
No reply.
Sameer turned to Arpita. "It's your duty to ensure all cadets are on the ground by 5:00 a.m. sharp. Call him. Now."
Arpita straightened. "Yes, sir. Give me five minutes. sameer "
Sameer's tone dropped lower.
"Arpita... remember. On duty, I'm not Sameer. I'm your superior officer. Maintain professionalism."
Her eyes flickered for a second - they shared history, but this was not the place.
"Yes, sir," she replied crisply, saluting before marching off.
Scene: Vihaan's Room - 5:15 a.m.
The room was a chaotic battlefield of clothes, empty snack packets, and half-open suitcases. The only thing peacefully alive there was Vihaan himself - snoring under his blanket, clutching his pillow like it was his last hope.
Arpita stormed in.
"Commando Vihaan Khurana! Get up!"
No response.
"Vihaan!" she barked again.
Still nothing - except a dreamy mumble.
"Dadi maa... thoda sona do na... mai kheth jaake gaya chara le aaunga..."
Arpita froze mid-yell, staring at him.
Seriously? The man who dreams of buffaloes wants to become an IPS officer?
She pinched the bridge of her nose, half laughing, half furious.
"Khuraanaaa!"
Nothing.
So, she grabbed the glass of water from his side table and poured it straight onto his face.
Vihaan shot up, screaming,
"Dadi maa! Flood aa gaya! Bachao!"
He blinked - and his eyes widened when he saw Arpita standing there, hands on her hips, a deadly glare on her face.
"Ma'am?" he said weakly, wiping his face. "You brought the flood?"
"Enough of your nonsense, Commando Khurana!" she snapped. "You're thirty minutes late on the first day! Get up, dress up, and report to the ground in five minutes. Move!"
And she turned to leave.
Vihaan, watching her go, muttered to himself with a grin,
"Agar har subah ye itni gusse se uthayegi, toh main roz late ho jaaunga..."
He whistled as he jumped from bed and rushed to the bathroom.
Ground: 5:30 a.m.
All cadets were in formation again when Vihaan finally arrived - still fixing his shirt buttons, his hair dripping from a rushed bath, and his energy brighter than the sun.
He ran in dramatically, waving.
"Arey bhai, main itna bhi khaas nahi ki sab mera wait kar rahe the!"
A few cadets chuckled. Ishita rolled her eyes. "Unbelievable," she whispered.
Sameer's glare could burn through steel.
"Mr. Khurana, what time were you told to report?"
"Sir... bas thoda late ho gaya tha-"
"Fifty rounds of the field. Now."
Vihaan blinked. "Sir, kya? Itna daudunga toh log samjhenge Milkha Singh ki atma aa gayi hai!"
"Sixty rounds," Sameer replied flatly.
"Sir, jaan loge kya?"
"Seventy."
"Sir, aap toh nilami kar rahe ho!"
"Eighty."
"Sir, please-"
"Ninety."
"Arre sir, zabardasti hai yeh!"
"One hundred."
Vihaan sighed dramatically, saluting.
"Theek hai sir, surrender karta hoon. Nilami band kijiye meri . Main daud raha hoon!"
He started running, muttering under his breath,
"IPS training ya torture chamber?"
Cadets tried not to laugh, but Ishita smirked.
"Acha hua, ab iss joker ka asli face sabke saamne aa gaya."
Sameer's voice snapped through the air like a whip.
"Commando Ishita Rao - hundred rounds for you as well."
Ishita's eyes widened. "But sir, I didn't-"
"Laughing at someone's weakness is weakness itself," he cut in sharply.
"You're here to serve the nation. Learn discipline."
Realizing her mistake, Ishita swallowed hard and stepped forward. Her ankle, still sore from yesterday's twist, ached with every step - but she refused to show pain.
As she began running beside Vihaan, Dr. Sidharth approached Sameer quietly.
"Sir, she sprained her ankle badly yesterday. Running a hundred rounds could cause serious strain."
Sameer didn't even blink.
"She's training to be an IPS officer, Doctor. In the real world, pain doesn't wait for permission."
Arpita glanced at him - her eyes softened for a second. She respected his discipline, but somewhere deep down, his emotionless words pricked something inside her.
Running Track: 6:00 a.m.
Vihaan was halfway through his rounds, panting, sweating, yet still talking.
"Ishita madam, yeh kya system hai? Training ya marathons ki preparation?"
Ishita shot him a glare. "Just shut up and run."
"Arre itni attitude kyu, madam ? Morning ke mood ko morning sickness bana diya."
Ishita huffed, ignoring him - but after a few rounds, her ankle wobbled. She stumbled slightly, wincing.
Vihaan noticed instantly. He slowed his pace beside her.
"Arre, careful! chot Lag gayi kya?" tumha
"I said, I'm fine." dont bother me now
"You're limping like my school PT teacher after eating too many samosas - that's not fine!"
She almost smiled but turned away, stubbornly running.
Vihaan kept running beside her silently for a few minutes before saying softly,
"Pain se bhaagna bhi ek practice hai, lekin usse face karna IPS ka pehla lesson hai."
Ishita glanced at him - surprised. For a moment, she saw something real behind his usual jokes.
Sameer watched from the distance - expression unreadable, but Arpita noticed the faintest flicker of approval in his eyes.
The sun finally rose higher, spreading golden light over the Himalayan peaks.
The cadets were drenched in sweat, but the spark in their eyes had changed.
Day One had begun -
and at Himalayan Civil Academy, it was not just about training the body...
It was about testing the heart.
the training ground. ishita and vihaan were lined up with other candedat after their punishing hundred rounds, drenched in sweat, their bodies aching - yet standing tall.
Roshni Mishra, meanwhile, was frozen in disbelief.
Her eyes widened as she saw the man walking across the ground in that sharp track uniform, clipboard in hand, calm yet terrifying - Officer Sameer pandey.
The same man she had bumped into yesterday.
The one she had mistaken for another candidate.
The one she had lectured about being "gentle" and "friendly."
Her soul almost left her body.
"Arey Bhagwan..." she muttered under her breath, nervously touching her forehead. "Yeh toh wahi hai! Officer Sameer! Aaj toh main gayi... pakka pathar uthwayega kal ka badla lene ke liye."
She started pacing slightly in her line, whispering frantically to herself.
"Kya zarurat thi mujhe usse baat karne ki? ,or usaa bag uthwana kii Uss time meri akal ghaas charne gayi thi kya? Roshni Mishra, tu toh apni khud ki khabar khod lee hai - 'Cadet dies of embarrassment, reason: tongue faster than brain!'"
Her muttering stopped abruptly when Sameer's sharp voice echoed through the ground.
"Cadets vihaan khurana 100 rounds of ground
Roshni gasped and clutched her bottle. "Yeh lo... ab meri turn bhi aayi samajh lo."
But Sameer didn't even glance her way. His attention was entirely on Ishita and Vihaan, who stood panting before him.
The punishment rounds were completed - one hundred in total - and Ishita could barely stand, her injured ankle trembling. Sweat slid down her face, but her expression stayed stiff with pride.
Vihaan, on the other hand, was dramatically gasping for air.
"Sir... agar next janam mila, toh main marathon runner nahi banunga..." he muttered.
Sameer's calm, cold tone cut through his whining.
"Cadets who can't handle discipline should reconsider being here. IPS doesn't train comfort seekers."
Then, his gaze shifted - just for a second - to Roshni.
She was standing quietly, watching him like a child caught stealing candy. Their eyes met for half a heartbeat.
Sameer's expression didn't change, but the corner of his mouth lifted slightly - a smirk that said, I remember you.
Roshni immediately looked down, whispering,
"Oh no, he remembered... Roshni, tu toh gayi beta."
After the Punishment
Ishita finally slowed down and stopped near the end of the track. She was holding her ankle, trying not to show pain. Her leg had swollen badly, but she refused to ask for help.
Roshni, who was watching from a distance, couldn't ignore it anymore. She grabbed her water bottle and ran toward her.
"Hey... yeh lo paani. You really should rest, yaar. Your leg looks bad."
Ishita looked up - her face blank, eyes sharp.
"I don't need it," she said curtly. "I'm fine."
Roshni blinked. "Fine? Tumhare ankle ka size toh ab watermelon jaisa ho gaya hai!"
But Ishita didn't reply. She just turned away and stood back in her line, pride wrapping around her like armor.
Roshni sighed. "Thik hai madam. Fine raho. Par jab gir jaogi toh mujhe mat bolna!"
Just then, Dr. Sidharth Kashyap entered the ground with his medical kit. He had already heard whispers about Ishita's injury.
"Commando Ishita Rao," he said, kneeling slightly, "show me your leg."
"I'm fine, doctor. It's just a sprain," she replied in a tone that was more about ego than health.
Sidharth frowned slightly. "You call this just? You've got swelling that can tear your ligament. Sit down."
She crossed her arms. "No need. I can handle it."
Sameer, who was observing from afar, said calmly,
"Commando Ishita Rao, back in line."
Dr. Sidharth stood up, sighing. He understood - discipline came first here. But he couldn't help thinking, these young ones will break their bones before admitting pain.
Roshni quietly whispered to herself,
"Drama queen bhi hai aur iron lady bhi..."
First Training Task
Sameer stood before them again, his whistle gleaming in the sunlight.
"Alright, cadets. Today's first task - endurance and coordination test. This will determine your basic fitness level. Three rounds of obstacle course, crawling under barbed wire, high rope climb, monkey ladder, and twenty pushups at every checkpoint. Anyone who fails... will repeat."
A few cadets gulped. Vihaan whispered to Roshni,
"Monkey ladder? Matlab literal bandar banenge?"
Roshni giggled. "Welcome to the jungle, partner."
"Partner?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
"Yeah. Tum bhi pagal, main bhi. Dono ek team. Done?"
Vihaan grinned. "Deal."
They high-fived - earning a glare from Arpita who noted their names on her clipboard.
Training Field
The obstacle field looked like a war zone - muddy tracks, ropes swinging, walls to climb.
Sameer blew his whistle. "Go!"
Cadets charged forward. Mud splattered everywhere. Vihaan and Roshni ran side by side, shouting nonsense to each other to stay motivated.
"Roshni, agar main gira toh meri dadi ko bolna main hero tha!"
"Agar main gir gayi toh tu photo kheech lena, viral ho jaungi!"
They both laughed even while crawling through the dirt, making Sameer rub his temples in silent frustration.
Meanwhile, Ishita moved slower but with fierce determination. Her leg pained with every step, but her pride refused to stop. Even when she stumbled on the rope climb, she gritted her teeth and pulled herself up again.
Dr. Sidharth, watching from a distance, murmured,
"She's going to make that injury worse..."
Sameer heard him but said nothing. His expression softened for just a moment.
He admired her stubbornness - the kind that separated ordinary from exceptional.
After Training
By the end of the morning session, most cadets were covered in mud, sweat, and exhaustion.
Vihaan collapsed on the grass dramatically. "Bas... ab toh main IPS nahi, RIP banne wala hoon."
Roshni burst out laughing. "Tumhe toh academy ke mascot banana chahiye!"
Sameer walked past them, his voice calm but cold.
"Commando Roshni, Commando Vihaan - since you two find this so funny, report to the ground at 4 a.m. tomorrow. Extra drills."
Both of them froze. "4 a.m.? Sir, tab toh raat bhi khatam nahi hoti!" Vihaan cried.
"Then sleep early," Sameer replied and walked off.
Arpita followed him, hiding a small smile.
Sidharth shook his head, amused. "Yeh batch interesting hone wala hai."
As the sun rose higher over the academy, Roshni looked around at the field - the mud, the pain, the exhaustion - and still smiled.
"Chalo Roshni Mishra," she whispered to herself.
"Tu aayi toh thi IPS officer banne... par yahan toh pehle insaan banna seekhna padega."
And somewhere across the ground, Sameer's eyes - sharp and unreadable - watched her silently.
The evening breeze brushed softly through the Himalayan Civil Academy campus, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and the sound of distant bugles echoing from the parade ground. The sky had begun to dim, painted in strokes of crimson and gold, while the cadets slowly dispersed toward their dorms after an exhausting first day of training.
Ishita was one of the last to leave the ground. Her steps were uneven, her right leg swollen from the morning's punishment drills. Still, her back remained straight, her jaw clenched in stubborn pride. She gripped the railing of the dormitory staircase and muttered under her breath, half in frustration and half in determination.
"Bas thoda aur... main koi kamzor nahi hoon... IPS officer banne aayi hoon, dard kya cheez hai mujhe kya haraayega." mera maa baap nahi hara saka too yee kuch bhii nahi
Her voice was faint, almost lost in the breeze, but her willpower was fierce. She placed one trembling foot on the next stair and began to climb. The strain was too much; her leg wobbled, and she lost her balance for a second. Before she could fall backward, a pair of hands caught her firmly.
"Arey yaar Ishita!" came a familiar voice. Roshni's eyes were wide with concern. "Tu pagal hai kya? Itni chot lagi hai aur tu abhi bhi stairs chadh rahi hai? Chal, medical room chalte hain."
Ishita pulled her arm back immediately, a flash of irritation crossing her face. "Tum mere peeche-peeche kyun aa rahi ho? Maine kaha tha kya help chahiye mujhe?" or mai kuu luu tumsa help thik se ek hin bhii nahi hua hai or tum sympaty dikhana band karo
Her tone was sharp, defensive. For a moment, Roshni just looked at her, half-annoyed, half-amused and half hurt . She took a deep breath, muttering to herself, "Pagal hai ye ladki. Lagta hai pain se zyada attitude hai."
But then she noticed the way Ishita winced slightly when she put weight on her leg, how her fingers trembled against the railing even as she pretended to be fine. Something in Roshni softened. She stepped closer and gently placed her hand on Ishita's shoulder.
"Chal, zyada hero mat ban. Main le chalte hoon tujhe medical room. Zidd kam kar madam."
Ishita didn't respond, but she didn't resist either. The two of them walked side by side in silence toward the medical wing, the corridor echoing with their slow footsteps. Roshni tried breaking the silence, tossing in a few harmless questions - where Ishita was from, what made her join the academy - but all she got in return were curt, half-hearted replies.
By the time they reached the medical room, Roshni had decided that Ishita Rao was the most stubborn human being she had ever met.
Inside, the bright white light contrasted sharply with the dusky hallway. Dr. Siddharth Kashyap was sitting at his desk, reading reports when he heard the knock. "Come in," he said, adjusting his glasses. His eyes lifted - and the calm expression changed the instant he saw Ishita limping in.
"Miss Ishita," he sighed, standing up. "Phir se zidd? Mujhe laga tumhe training ground se stretcher par bhejna padega aaj."
Ishita straightened her posture, masking the pain behind a rigid expression. "Sir, main bilkul theek hoon. Ye chhoti si chot hai, I can manage."
Roshni, standing behind her, rolled her eyes slightly. "Chhoti si chot? Itni chot pe toh koi aur candidate ro padta."
Dr. Siddharth ignored their small exchange and gestured for the nurse. "Check her leg. Clean the wound." He watched silently as the nurse removed Ishita's shoe and examined her ankle. The nurse's expression tightened.
"Sir, swelling kaafi zyada hai... it might be a ligament strain."
Siddharth crouched beside Ishita, the calm professionalism in his eyes returning. "You've got a mild sprain. If you keep pushing yourself like this, it can turn severe. You need rest, compression, and no running for at least a day."
Ishita didn't even flinch as he pressed the area gently to check the pain. Her face remained stoic, but her nails dug into her palm. Roshni saw that - and her irritation melted away. Beneath all that arrogance was a kind of strength she couldn't help but respect.
Once the bandage was wrapped neatly around Ishita's leg, Siddharth stood up. "Ms. Roshni," he said, handing her a small packet of medicines. "Take her to her room. Give her this after dinner. She needs rest."
Roshni nodded firmly. "Yes, sir."
Ishita tried standing on her own, but the pain shot through her leg like fire. Siddharth, observing quietly, finally spoke under his breath. "Ziddi bhi ho aur stubborn bhi... ye IPS training kam, patience test zyada lagta hai."
Then, without warning, he stepped forward and lifted Ishita effortlessly into his arms. Roshni gasped, eyes wide. Ishita froze, completely taken aback. "Sir! I said I can walk!"
"Main bhi keh raha hoon, Miss Rao, ab chup rahiye," Siddharth said calmly, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. "Zyada hero banne ki zarurat nahi."
As he carried her down the corridor, Roshni followed behind, biting her lip to keep from laughing. Ishita kept glaring at her, mouthing silent threats that only made Roshni giggle more. A few cadets peeked from their dorm rooms, whispering and smiling, while Ishita's face turned red with embarrassment.
Siddharth placed her gently on her bed once they reached the dormitory. "Rest properly. I'll send your medical note to the office. You'll be excused from tomorrow's heavy physical training."
Ishita's pride flared again. "No need, sir. I'll do it myself."
He raised an eyebrow. "Dikh toh raha hai chal bhi nahi pa rahi ho, phir bhi zidd level IPS hai. Thik hai, jaise chahe. Lekin rest lena mat bhoolna." He gave her a small smile - one that made Ishita's already flushed cheeks turn slightly redder - and then left the room, the door closing softly behind him.
Roshni handed Ishita her medicines. "Le, yeh kha le aur thoda rest kar. Main canteen se dinner le aati hoon."
"Zarurat nahi hai," Ishita muttered. "Mujhe bhook nahi hai."
Roshni crossed her arms. "Aise kaise? Tu bhooki nahi hai par main leke aa rahi hoon. Aur agar 'naa' boli na, toh zabardasti khila dungi." She grinned mischievously before leaving the room.
As the door closed, Ishita leaned back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. Her body ached, but her mind was louder than the pain.
Main yahan dosti karne nahi aayi hoon. Kisi ko farak nahi padta - na academy mein, na ghar mein. Mujhe kisi pe bharosa nahi karna. Ishita, melt mat ho. Apne goals yaad rakh.
Yet, a faint smile tugged at her lips as she remembered Roshni's insistence, the way she laughed even when Ishita snapped at her. For a second, it almost felt... nice. Then she caught herself, her expression hardening again.
She turned her face toward the wall, her eyes half-closed as the night outside grew darker. The academy lights shimmered through the window, throwing long shadows across her room - a reminder that this was only day one, and the real test of strength, discipline, and heart had just begun.
The canteen of the Himalayan Civil Academy buzzed with chatter, the clinking of metal trays, and the aroma of hot parathas and dal. The evening had finally given the cadets a small break after their grueling first day of training.
Roshni entered, her braid swinging behind her, still in her field uniform. She carried a determined look - she wasn't here for herself but to pick up food for Ishita. She walked straight to the counter, collected two plates, and was about to leave when a familiar voice called out from behind.
"Arre, Roshni! Idhar aa naa!"
It was Vihaan Khurana - sitting cross-legged on the bench like he was in a village choupal, sipping on his juice, and grinning from ear to ear.
Roshni sighed, already sensing trouble. "Ab kya kar diya tune, Vihaan?"
He smirked, leaning forward. "Ek chhota sa sawal tha - tujhko wo Tandoori Mirchi dikhi kya kahin?"
Roshni blinked in confusion. "Tandoori Mirchi? Ye kaun nayi item hai?"
Vihaan's grin widened. "Arre wahi! Jiska pair mein chot lagi thi, aur phir bhi sherni ban ke ground mein daud rahi thi - Ishita Rao!"
Roshni burst out laughing so hard that a few cadets turned to look at them. "Tandoori Mirchi?! Vihaan, tu toh gaya. Uska naam leke dekh, tujhe woh ussi tandoor mein daal kar bhun degi!"
Vihaan placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "Main toh bas sach bol raha hoon yaar, attitude full hai madam ka. Mujhe laga IPS training hai, ye toh wrestling camp nikla!"
Roshni chuckled, sliding into the seat opposite him. "Aur tu toh circus ka joker lagta hai, Vihaan Khurana. Subah se sabse zyada punishment tujhko mili hai!"
"Arre kya karoon!" Vihaan shrugged, "Sameer Sir ka dimaag toh full discipline mode mein rehta hai. Mujhe dekha, bas bola-'100 rounds!' Matlab bhai, aise bhi kya nafrat?"
Roshni grinned wickedly. "Toh naam mil gaya uska."
"Kiska?" Vihaan raised an eyebrow.
"Discipline Baba!" she declared proudly, slapping the table.
Vihaan almost choked on his juice laughing. "Sahi pakde hai! Discipline Baba! Pata nahi kab smile karega ye aadmi. Lagta hai zindagi bhar PT period hi padha raha hai!"
Both of them burst out laughing, giggling uncontrollably. Their jokes rolled on - they commented on the other cadets' strict postures, mimicked how everyone shouted "Yes Sir!" like parrots, and even started predicting who'd faint in the next physical drill.
But as fate would have it, laughter was never safe when Discipline Baba himself was around.
At the far end of the canteen, Sameer entered - not for food, but for inspection. His sharp eyes scanned the tables; his jaw was set in that perfect IPS seriousness that could silence a whole room. Within seconds, the loud canteen grew quiet - except for one corner.
Roshni and Vihaan's corner.
Sameer's steps echoed across the floor as he approached. Every cadet he passed lowered their gaze - all except the two most talkative ones, who were too busy laughing at their own act.
"Dekho, Vihaan," Roshni said between giggles, standing up and mimicking Sameer's posture. She straightened her back, clasped her hands behind like an officer, and deepened her voice, perfectly copying him. "Commando Vihaan Khurana - 100 rounds! Aur haan, smile mat karna. Ye academy hai, comedy club nahi!"
The whole canteen roared in laughter.
Vihaan almost fell off his chair. "Arre Roshni, tu toh pura Sameer Sir ban gayi!"
Roshni continued, walking with a fake serious expression. "Nation ke liye dedication chahiye! Training mein time par uthna chahiye! Discipline... is the key to success!"
Vihaan laughed so hard he started slapping the table. The crowd around them cheered, and the laughter grew.
But then... his laughter died mid-breath.
Because standing right behind Roshni, arms folded, expression stone cold, was the real Officer Sameer Rathore.
Vihaan's eyes widened like saucers. He tried giving her hints, motioning wildly with his hands, mouthing "Peeche! Peeche dekh!"
But Roshni, still in full dramatic flow, scowled. "Arre tu aise haath kyun hila raha hai jaise bhoot dekh liya ho. Kya mere peeche Officer Sameer khada hai kya?"
Vihaan gulped. "Pagal aurat... wahi toh hai!"
Roshni froze. Slowly - very slowly - she turned around.
And there he was. Sameer stood still as a statue, eyes sharp, his face expressionless but his silence more terrifying than any shouting could ever be.
The laughter around them died immediately. Forks clinked, spoons dropped, and even the ceiling fan seemed to spin quieter.
"Impressive," Sameer said finally, his voice calm but cold. "Miss Roshni Singh, your mimicry skills are... commendable. Perhaps I should add them to tomorrow's parade session."
Roshni's throat went dry. "Sir... actually, woh hum bas..."
Sameer's gaze shifted to Vihaan. "And Mr. Khurana, you found the canteen an excellent place for entertainment?"
Vihaan immediately stood up straight. "Sir... hum bas... moral support de rahe the, sir!"
Sameer took a slow step forward, his tone dropping even lower. "Moral support? This isn't a drama rehearsal, Commando Khurana. This is IPS training - the foundation of your discipline, your integrity, your future. You think the academy runs on laughter?"
Both Roshni and Vihaan went quiet, staring at the floor like schoolchildren caught cheating. Sameer continued, his voice now slicing the air with precision.
"You are here to serve the nation - to learn control, not mock it. Out there, one moment of indiscipline can cost a life. If you can't respect the uniform even in training, how will you respect it in the field?"
His words struck hard - not shouted, but firm enough to pierce through. Roshni's head lowered, her smile fading completely. Even Vihaan had no comeback.
After a heavy pause, Sameer looked around the canteen. "Lunch time is over. Everyone - back to your dorms."
The crowd dispersed instantly. Roshni picked up the food tray she'd come for and started to leave quietly. But before she could step out, Sameer's voice stopped her.
"Where are you taking that food?"
Roshni turned, nervous. "Sir... actually, I was taking it for Ishita. She's injured and can't come down. I thought I'd-"
"No need," Sameer interrupted flatly. "If she can't come down, she can skip lunch. Everyone will follow rules. No exceptions."
Roshni's jaw clenched. She wanted to argue, but one look at his face told her it was pointless. She nodded curtly, biting back her anger.
As she walked away, she muttered under her breath, "Such a cold-hearted, heartless man."
And just before exiting the door, she turned once - stuck her tongue out quietly at his back - then grabbed the tray anyway and left, whispering, "Rules ho ya na ho, Tandoori Mirchi ko khana toh milega."
Sameer, who'd clearly heard that last line, hid the faintest smirk before turning back toward the counter.
The soft light of evening filtered through the blinds of the academy's infirmary room. A faint smell of antiseptic lingered in the air. Ishita sat propped up against her pillow, her ankle bandaged and her face still streaked with fatigue and irritation. She had drifted into a half-sleep when the door creaked open.
Roshni entered quietly, balancing a tray of food - two plates of rice, dal, and roti - her hair slightly messy from the day's exhausting drills. She placed the tray on the side table and turned toward Ishita with a gentle smile.
"I told you naa," Ishita muttered, rubbing her eyes, "don't bring food for me..."
Roshni folded her arms, pretending to be serious. "I know you don't need help, but khana pe gusa nikalna health ke liye theek nahi hota. Isme khane ki kya galti hai?"
Ishita rolled her eyes. "Ek din main nahi khaungi to mar nahi jaungi. Aur tum kyu itni parwa kar rahi ho? Hume mile hue ek din bhi nahi hua. Sympathy mat dikhao - mujhe pata hai koi itna acha nahi hota iss duniya mein."
Roshni's smile faded for a second, then she leaned forward and said softly, "Main achi nahi hoon, Ishita. Na mujhe koi saint banna hai. Lekin main insaan hoon... aur insaniyat ka matlab to yahi hota hai, naa? Jo kar sakte ho, karo."
She picked up a spoon, scooped some dal, and extended it toward Ishita's mouth. Ishita turned her face away stubbornly. "Mujhe nahi chahiye."
Roshni sighed, dropped the spoon back in the bowl, and muttered dramatically, "Theek hai, mat khao. Lekin jab tera pet khud tujhpe case karega na, tab mat bolna maine warning nahi di."
As if on cue, Ishita's stomach growled audibly. Roshni froze, then burst into laughter. Ishita glared but snatched the spoon anyway, her face turning slightly red.
"Pagal ladki," Ishita muttered, and Roshni grinned, watching her finally eat.
The room had just started to feel light again when a sharp knock echoed at the door. Before either could respond, the door swung open - Sameer stepped in, his posture straight, expression unreadable. Behind him was a kitchen staff member carrying another food tray.
"Miss Roshni Mishra," his voice cut through the air like a command. "Didn't I tell you to have your lunch in the canteen?"
Roshni turned, jaw tightening. "Yes, sir. But I thought-"
"You thought?" His tone hardened. "You don't have the privilege to think in this academy without orders."
Something in her snapped. She stood up slowly, her eyes locking with his. "Sir, with due respect, I think you missed your humanity class. But I haven't."
The air went still. Even Ishita stopped chewing. Sameer's brows furrowed, his jaw clenched - his voice low, calm, but edged like steel.
"Miss Mishra, this is not a charity house. It's a training academy. Learn the difference between sympathy and discipline. You are not here to play savior. You're here to learn obedience."
Roshni didn't flinch. "Maybe, sir. But if obedience means ignoring someone who's hurt, then I'd rather fail your training."
A heavy silence filled the room. The faint hum of the ceiling fan was the only sound between them. Sameer's eyes held hers - sharp, cold, unreadable - for a long moment before he finally turned to the staff member.
"Keep the food here," he ordered flatly, then looked back at Roshni. "Finish your dinner. And next time, follow protocol."
With that, he walked out, his boots clicking against the floor - precise, disciplined, distant.
When the door shut, Ishita exhaled slowly. "Tum pagal ho kya? Aise koi baat karta hai training officer se?"
Roshni shrugged, trying to act unfazed though her hands were still trembling slightly. "Mainne jo sahi laga, wahi kaha."
Ishita looked at her for a long moment - her expression softened. "Why didn't you eat your food then? You gave it to me, didn't you?"
Roshni smiled faintly. "Kya farq padta hai? Tu kha le, tujhse zyada zarurat tujhe hai."
Ishita frowned, but her voice came out quieter this time. "Roshni... mainne kaha na, mujhe sympathy nahi chahiye."
Roshni was about to reply when Ishita added, softer but firm, "Lekin... apna khana le ja. Mujhe pasand nahi jab koi mere wajah se apni meal skip kare. Main deserve nahi karti - lekin tu deserve karti hai."
Roshni blinked at her, then gave a tiny smile. "Theek hai, tandoori mirchi."
"Kya bola tune?" Ishita shot her a glare, but Roshni laughed, picked up the tray, and left the room - her heart still racing from the confrontation with Sameer, her mind replaying his words and his eyes that somehow still lingered in her thoughts.
Sameer walked down the corridor, his steps echoing against the marble floor of the Himalayan Civil Academy. The night outside was quiet, only the faint hum of crickets and the rustle of the cold mountain breeze breaking the silence. But inside him, there was nothing quiet.
That girl - Roshni Mishra.
He clenched his jaw, the scene replaying in his head - her eyes, sharp and defiant, the way she stood up to him like she was ready to challenge every word he said. No fear. No hesitation. Only that stubborn fire that refused to bow down.
"Unbelievable..." he muttered to himself, pulling off his gloves and tossing them on his desk as he entered his cabin. He loosened his collar, still feeling the heat of that confrontation.
How could one trainee - one candidate - get under his skin this much in just two days?
He'd seen hundreds of trainees - overconfident, arrogant, emotional - and yet, none had managed to make his composure slip the way she did. There was something in her tone, something that made him feel... questioned. Like she wasn't just talking to her superior officer, but to the man behind the uniform.
He hated that.
"She talks about humanity," he whispered under his breath, pacing across the room. "As if she knows what real discipline costs. As if she's ever had to make a decision where feelings don't matter."
He stopped near the window. Outside, the training grounds were dimly lit, still echoing faint shouts of other batches doing late-night drills. His reflection in the glass stared back at him - cold, still, unreadable.
But her face flashed again - the spark in her eyes when she said, 'I'd rather fail your training.'
His fingers curled into a fist. "She doesn't know what failure means here," he thought. "But she will."
He wanted to convince himself that this irritation was just part of his job - that he was only doing what a training officer should do. But somewhere deep inside, there was an unfamiliar pull. Something between anger and curiosity.
"Why does she care so much for others?" he wondered. "Why does she look at everyone like she can fix their pain?"
He let out a slow breath and sank into his chair. "It's just the beginning," he said to himself quietly, his tone low, determined. "Let's see how long that fire of hers lasts."
But even as he tried to push the thought away, he couldn't forget the way her eyes had held his - fearless, almost... personal.
He pressed his palms together, leaning back, whispering under his breath:
"Roshni Mishra... let's see if your carlessness can survive my strictness or not ."
The wind outside howled against the windowpane, almost echoing his thoughts - a silent promise that this was only the beginning of a storm neither of them saw coming.
Roshni lay on her narrow academy bed, staring at the ceiling fan that spun lazily above her. The soft whir of its blades mixed with the distant sound of crickets and the faint hum of the wind outside. The lights in her dorm room were dim, casting long shadows that danced across the walls. But her mind-her mind was anything but calm.
She turned to her side with a huff, clutching the pillow against her chest. "Ugh, what's his problem?" she muttered under her breath. "Always so cold... always talking like the whole world is made of rules and punishments."
Her voice was low but filled with frustration. Sameer Pandey - Officer Sameer Rathore, the name itself made her jaw tighten. The way he looked at her in the canteen today - that sharp, judging gaze - like she was some sort of rule-breaking recruit.
"He could've just said a thank you," she grumbled, "for feeding an injured trainee. But nooo, Mr. Discipline Baba had to give me a lecture about rules and regulations!"
Roshni grabbed the bedsheet and covered her face for a moment, half-laughing, half-fuming. The memory of her sticking her tongue out at his back flashed in her mind and she chuckled softly, whispering, "If he ever saw that... I'd be cleaning the academy floors for a week."
Her smile faded a little as her eyes drifted toward the window. The moonlight spilled inside, soft and silver, touching her tired face. "Still... why does it bother me so much?" she whispered.
For a second, she saw his face again - the seriousness in his eyes, the way he stood straight, composed, untouchable. There was something about him that unsettled her. Something she couldn't quite name.
"He's not heartless," she murmured. "No one who looks at his trainees like that can be."
But then she remembered his voice - cold, sharp like ice. 'You don't know what discipline means, Ms. Mishra.'
Her lips curved into a faint smirk. "Oh, I'll show you, Officer Pandey. I'll show you that discipline doesn't mean losing our concentration ." disipline is just a part of like and success ,but i think someone has make it as life ....
The night air drifted in through the half-open window, brushing against her skin. She could hear faint laughter from other rooms, soft footsteps in the corridor, and Ishita's gentle breathing from the other bed.
Roshni turned again, pulling her blanket over herself. Her eyes softened, her anger slowly melting into quiet determination.
Somewhere between annoyance and something she didn't want to name, her chest felt tight. She pressed her palm against her heart and whispered, "Don't you dare start this, Roshni. He's just your officer. Just another tough face you'll deal with and move on." just like how you moved frome upsc tough face
But as she closed her eyes, her mind betrayed her again - replaying his voice, his stare, and the way his presence filled the room like an invisible storm.
And in that cold Himalayan night, beneath layers of anger, pride, and exhaustion, something small - something warm - began to stir inside her heart.
Arpita Singh sat by the edge of her neatly made bed, the quiet hum of the night surrounding her room in the instructors' quarters. The lamps on her bedside table glowed softly, throwing warm golden light over the pale blue walls. Her long day had finally come to an end - drills, paperwork, and an endless line of questions from nervous cadets. Yet, despite the exhaustion pressing against her temples, her mind refused to rest.
She slipped out of her training tracksuit and changed into her soft nightwear - a plain cotton kurta and pajama - the fabric light against her skin. As she brushed her hair to one side, her gaze caught her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes looked calmer now, but somewhere beneath that stillness lingered a quiet storm of emotions she didn't want to acknowledge.
Her thoughts drifted, uninvited, to him.
Sameer Pandey .
The name alone stirred something strange in her chest. She tried to shrug it off, sitting at the edge of her bed and running a hand through her hair. "Why am I even thinking about him?" she muttered softly. "It's been years..."
But her mind didn't stop there.
Images from their own training days came rushing back - Sameer's determined eyes during physical drills, his calm yet firm voice correcting her stance at the firing range, and that rare moment when he had smiled - a real, unguarded smile - after their batch successfully completed the final endurance test.
That same smile still had the power to make her heart stumble.
Arpita shook her head slightly and reached for the glass of water on her bedside table. Her fingers brushed the cool surface, and the faint sound of water rippling pulled her back from those old memories. She took a sip, letting the coldness wash away the warmth that had crept into her thoughts - but as she set the glass down, another memory flashed before her eyes.
Vihaan Khurana.
That morning. The chaos. The sheer nonsense of it all.
She could still see his messy hair sticking out in every direction, the lazy smile on his half-asleep face as he mumbled, "Dadi maa... mujhe sona do naa..." and her own stunned reaction before she'd thrown that entire glass of water on him.
The corners of her lips twitched despite herself.
Then came the memory of him running around the ground, panting and whining as Sameer kept adding rounds to his punishment - 50, 60, 70, 100 - until even Arpita couldn't help but press her lips together to hide her laugh.
And later, when Sameer scolded her for being "too lenient with the recruits," she had wanted to roll her eyes right there. Professional, Arpita. Be professional. That's what she kept telling herself. But there was something almost refreshing about having that chaos around. Vihaan's mischief, Roshni's laughter, and ishita pride - it all made the academy feel alive again.
She leaned back on her pillow, still smiling faintly. "That boy..." she whispered, shaking her head. "He's impossible."
A small, unexpected laugh escaped her lips - light, real, unguarded. It startled her for a moment. How long had it been since she laughed like this?
"Just because of a silly cadet," she murmured to herself, covering her face with the blanket. "Arpita, what's gotten into you?"
But even as she scolded herself, she felt something warm stir within her. The academy, once filled only with rules, reports, and responsibility, on their time suddenly seemed to have color again - noise, laughter, life.
Her mind wandered back, just briefly, to Sameer - the way he looked today in his tracksuit, completely focused, commanding, untouchable. She sighed softly. "Maybe... some people never change."
With that, she turned off the lamp, pulling the blanket up to her chin. The moonlight slipped through the curtain, painting silver streaks across her calm face.
And for the first time in a long while, Arpita Singh fell asleep with a small, peaceful smile - her dreams tangled between memories of discipline, laughter, and a man whose presence still stirred her in ways she couldn't quite name.
...........................................................................................................................................................
Vihaan Khurana lay on his bed, hands tucked under his head, staring at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above him. The hostel was quiet now-most of the cadets had already drifted into sleep after the long, exhausting first day of training. But Vihaan? He was still wide awake, his mind buzzing with mischief.
"Uff... Subah se daud-daud kar kya faida hua?" he mumbled to himself. "Bas punishment hi mila! Discipline baba ka to bas kaam hi hai sabko satana. Lekin kal... kal thoda maza lenge."
And just like that, a wicked grin curved on his face. He sat up straight, eyes glinting with mischief under the dim dorm light. "Idea! Agar Sameer Pandey sir late hue na... to kya scene hoga!"
He turned to the two boys sleeping on the next bunks - Arjun and Karan - and whispered loudly enough to wake the dead, "Oye commandoon! Operation Lockdown shuru karte hain!"
The boys groaned. "Ab kya nautanki hai, Vihaan?"
"Arre nautanki nahi, plan hai! Simple aur safe," Vihaan said, eyes sparkling. "Hum sab chori se jaake sir ke room ka lock band kar dete hain. Subah jab wo bahar aayenge to... locked! Aur fir jab wo late honge, mai bolunga - 'Dekha sir, koi bhi late ho sakta hai!'"
Karan sat up, horrified. "Tu pagal hai kya? Wo hume zinda chhodenge nahi!"
Vihaan waved a hand dramatically. "Drama mat kar. Hum commando hain, soldier ke bache. Thoda risk to lena hi padta hai."
Five minutes later, the three of them crept out of the dormitory like cartoon thieves - tiptoeing, whispering, and suppressing laughter. Vihaan led the mission, clutching a small lock he'd "borrowed" from his locker.
They reached the corridor where the trainers' quarters were located. The hallway was silent, the lights faint. Vihaan turned to his friends and whispered, "Operation Discipline Baba Band Karo - starts now."
The other two boys nodded nervously as Vihaan crouched near Sameer's door.
"Quickly, lock lagao aur bhaag chalo!" Arjun whispered.
Vihaan turned the latch, grinning. "Aur ho gaya kaam tamam! Ab dekho subah kya hungama hota hai!"
But before they could celebrate, a deep, cold voice echoed behind them - firm and sharp.
"Kaunsa hungama, Mr. Khurana?"
The three of them froze. Slowly, very slowly, Arjun and Karan turned - and there he was. Officer Sameer Pandey, standing tall in his tracksuit, arms crossed, expression stone-cold.
In that instant, both boys bolted like rabbits - running back toward the dormitory at full speed, leaving poor Vihaan crouched near the lock.
Still oblivious, Vihaan started talking to himself, "Bas ab kal subah jab ye door khulega nahi na, to sab ke chehre dekhne layak honge-"
He paused. The hairs on his neck stood up. He sensed... danger.
And then came that calm yet deadly voice again - right behind him.
"Mr. Khurana."
Vihaan turned in slow motion, his smile frozen halfway. "S-sir! Aap... yahan?"
Sameer's jaw clenched. "Nahi, mai toh chand pe gaya tha. Tum batao, yahan kya kar rahe ho?"
"Woh sir... mai... woh..." Vihaan's mind scrambled. "Mai toh sir... dekh raha tha ki... academy ke locks theek se kaam kar rahe hai ya nahi. Safety inspection, sir!"
Sameer raised an eyebrow. "Safety inspection?"
"Ji sir! Dekhiye na, agar lock kharab ho jaaye to security breach ho sakta hai! Mai toh academy ka bhavishya soch raha tha, sir!"
Sameer took one slow, deliberate step closer. "Aur ye bhavishya lock laga ke banate ho?"
Vihaan laughed nervously. "Sir, thoda masti kar rahe the... just light mood banaye rakhna bhi zaruri hota hai, sir. Mental health ke liye..."
Sameer's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Tumhara 'light mood' mujhe kal subah report room mein dikhega. Aur ab-" He snatched the key from Vihaan's hand. "Fifty push-ups. Abhi. Yahi."
Vihaan blinked. "Sir, abhi? Raat ke do baje hai!"
"Fifty," Sameer repeated flatly.
"Sir, mosquitos ka attack ho raha hai... kal subah kar lu?"
"Sixty."
"Sir-"
"Seventy."
"Arey sir, aap to negotiation bhi nahi karte!"
"Eighty."
"Sir, ye to human rights violation hai!"
"Ninety."
Vihaan sighed, dropped to the floor, and started push-ups dramatically. "Aap jaise officers ke liye hi motivational quotes bante hain, sir - 'Pain is temporary, punishment is permanent!'"
Sameer folded his arms, watching him silently, expression unreadable.
After Vihaan barely made it to thirty push-ups, panting and whining, Sameer said coldly, "Enough. Tomorrow 4 a.m., report to the ground with me and your two friends. We'll continue your safety inspection there."
Vihaan groaned. "Sir, mujhe lagta hai mai academy se graduate hone se pehle hi old ho jaunga."
Sameer gave him a hard stare. "Good. At least tab tak samajhdaar ho jaoge."
Vihaan managed a crooked smile. "Sir, agar mai samajhdaar ho gaya to academy bore nahi ho jaayegi?"
Sameer exhaled sharply, suppressing what almost looked like amusement - almost. "Out. Before I make it hundred push-ups again."
Vihaan saluted half-heartedly. "Jai Hind, sir... aapke shasan mein janm lena mera saubhagya hai."
Sameer didn't reply, just turned and walked away, leaving Vihaan muttering to himself, "Kya banda hai yaar... ek din to ise bhi hasaa ke rahunga!"
And with that promise, he trudged back toward the dorms, his mischief not dimmed - only delayed..
Hello readers!
So I'm ending this chapter with our chaotic little troublemaker Vihaan! 😂
Honestly, my hands are crying in pain right now - typing on this laptop feels like punishment from our trainer Sameer Sir himself! 😭
I think he secretly made me type 7000 words as penalty for laughing during the scene! (Hee... Hee... Hee... Just kidding!)
Anyway, I'll continue with our three leads' scenes in the next chapter - so don't forget to vote, comment, and tell me which scene you liked the most!
Your author really needs some motivation before Sameer gives me another typing punishment! 😅💕
Write a comment ...