Yaraa entered the college and wandered around the campus, taking in the atmosphere. It was just like any other college—busy, vibrant, and full of students excited about the beginning of a new chapter in their lives. Soon, the entrance ceremony began. The college celebrated it like any other institution, and Yaraa enjoyed the event along with the other students.

  After the ceremony, everyone started heading to their respective classrooms. As Yaraa walked through the corridors, he noticed something strange—all the students were wearing something similar, almost like a symbol that represented different groups. Some had different variations, indicating they were part of separate factions.

  Curious, Yaraa tried speaking to some students, but they ignored him completely. Confused, he continued walking toward his classroom. He had chosen B.Com, which had one of the highest student enrollments compared to other courses. Hoping for a better response, he attempted to talk to his classmates, but once again, no one spoke to him.

  Just as he was wondering why everyone was avoiding him, a small piece of paper landed on his desk. Someone had thrown it at him. He picked it up and unfolded it.

  "Meet me at the restroom during break time."

  Yaraa frowned, unsure of what this meant.

  Before he could think further, the class started. A young woman walked in—she was the professor. She stood at the front and introduced herself.

  "Good morning, everyone. I’m Amala, your professor. Before this, I was a school teacher. Since I’m new here, let’s begin with introductions."

  The classroom remained silent. No one volunteered. Just as Yaraa was about to stand up and introduce himself, a girl sitting in the corner spoke first.

  "Hello, everyone. I’m Tharaa," she said, finishing her introduction quickly.

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  One by one, other students followed. Then, it was Yaraa’s turn. He stood up confidently and said, "Hello, guys. I’m Yaraa."

  The moment his name was spoken, Professor Amala’s eyes widened in shock.

  "You are Yaraa from TNS School?" she asked, surprised.

  "Yes, ma’am. I was your student in school," Yaraa replied with a slight smile.

  "But… I thought you already completed your bachelor’s degree?" she questioned.

  "I did, ma’am," Yaraa answered.

  The entire class gasped and turned to look at him in shock.

  "Then why did you enroll in a bachelor’s course again?" Amala asked, puzzled.

  "Because I’m interested in commerce, ma’am. That’s why," Yaraa replied casually.

  The professor seemed like she wanted to ask more questions, but before she could, Yaraa politely interrupted.

  "Ma’am, let’s continue the introductions. We can talk later in the afternoon."

  Seeing that he didn’t want to discuss it further, she nodded and resumed the session. Once everyone had introduced themselves, she officially began the lesson.

  Just then, the classroom door swung open. A tall, intimidating young man stepped inside. His presence alone made the entire class go silent.

  "Who is Tharaa?" he asked in a commanding voice.

  The professor frowned and asked, "Who are you?"

  The boy smirked. "I’m Tamizh."

  The moment he said his name, the entire classroom tensed up. Fear filled their faces.

  Everyone knew who he was—Tamizh, the undisputed ruler of the hostel. He controlled everything that happened there. No one dared to defy him.

  "I asked, who is Tharaa?" he repeated.

  Tharaa stood up confidently. "I am Tharaa."

  Tamizh stared at her for a moment before speaking. "So, you’re the one who said on the phone that you love me, huh?"

  The entire classroom erupted in whispers. All eyes were now on Tharaa.

  She met his gaze fearlessly and replied, "Yes. So what?"

  Tamizh looked at her for a moment before smirking. "Alright then. From now on, we’re dating."

  The classroom erupted in shocked murmurs.

  Tamizh then turned and walked out of the room as if the matter was settled.

  As soon as he left, Tharaa’s friends immediately surrounded her.

  "Tharaa, are you crazy? He’s a dangerous guy! Why would you get involved with someone like him?" one of them asked, clearly worried.

  Tharaa’s expression suddenly changed. A cold, determined look replaced her usual cheerful demeanor.

  "I have my reasons," she said in a serious tone.

  Her friends looked at her, confused and uneasy. They had never seen this side of Tharaa before.

  What was she planning?

  And more importantly, how was Yaraa going to navigate this strange and dangerous new college life?