Pandit took Mannat straight back home, where his father and others were anxiously waiting for their return. They also dropped the two unconscious men outside the village as a reminder to the Sarpanch.
Mannat got surprised when Khargosh opened the door and a room chock full of his friends stared out at him from the dark. Sharmilla, her sister Chahhat, Gande, Khargosh, and Soman, everyone was there. Even the old man had come along. Chahhat was holding her sisters in her arms. The old man was sitting at the table while Raesh sat opposite him. Gande was in the kitchen, and to Pandit’s horror, his girlfriend Soman was helping her. Beads of sweat rolled down his face as he entered the house behind Mannat.
A few sharp inhales greeted Mannat on limping across the door, dragging his right leg behind him. The girls passed accusing looks to Pandit who could neither make an excuse nor tell the truth. Truth was that Mannat didn’t want his help, and it was also his excuse.
They couldn’t perceive the extent of his injuries through his face alone, which was a blessing in disguise.
“Son,” Raesh stood up to help him inside, only for a worried, teary-eyed girl to overtake him.
Sharmilla jumped ahead of everyone and hugged Mannat, almost taking down both the boys. Behind her, the old man watched them, holding a complicated expression over his face. He knew the Sarpanch would not take Mannat’s intervention kindly, though he didn’t think the man would go so far in his quest for vengeance. His gaze couldn’t help but soften. He really had no grievances with the boy or his family. He only worried the boy’s association with the Witch would make his life difficult in the village, and so it had proven. He would take Sharmilla away from him if he could, but that ship had sailed and only pain remained.
“I’m going to gut that muddle-headed pig!” Gande’s shouts and curses filled the house, some of which flushed the girl’s faces a deep shade of red, while others made the men shiver.
“Let me take him from here,” Raesh got hold of Mannat and told Sharmilla, who quickly transferred Mannat to his arms. Everyone followed them through the corridor.
Pandit tried to leave through the front door while everyone was distracted, but Soman noticed his intentions. She winked at him and gestured him to follow along. Pandit was helpless. He didn’t know what his mother and Soman had talked about but knew from instinct it couldn’t be anything good.
“Did you hurt them?” Raesh asked Mannat on the way.
Mannat answered him honestly. “I only hurt the big guy. Pandit told me there were two boys hurt. Was one of them named Flea, by any chance?”
Raesh shook his head. “Why? He didn’t flee, am I correct?”
“No,” Mannat didn’t elaborate. He was happy that at least the boy had managed to escape uninjured.
Raesh took Mannat to his room, since Mannat’s bedding was at the Witch’s hut, and helped him to bed.
“Remove your clothes,” Raesh ordered but Mannat hesitated. It was not the eyes of his friends and family that worried him, but the condition of his body itself. He didn’t want them to see his bruises, but he was home and it was impossible to hide from them anyways.
Slowly, Mannat tried to remove his shirt but found a sharp pain rise from his chest. Everyone noticed his discomfort, but Sharmilla was the one who jumped forward to help him. Her actions earned her smiles.
Soman said they look good together and her ears turned red like two fresh cherries.
Though it was the extent of Sharmilla's reaction. She sat beside Mannat on the bed and helped his arms free from the sleeves first, before taking the stainless shirt off his body. She was the last one to see his bruises, but even the gasps and the grunts that ensued couldn’t prepare her for the real thing. She saw the bruises and her eyes filled with tears.
Mannat passed her a smile and wiped her tears with a thumb. “It’s all right now. They don’t hurt much. I ate some herbs and they are better now.”
“They are better?” Sharmilla put covered her lips with a hand and the tears started flowing. Mannat put an arm around her neck and gave her a shoulder to cry. It was the best he could do.
“They just look bad, don’t worry so much.” Mannat hid the pain that sparkled across his body and gently rubbed her back. Other's expressions weren’t hidden from him. Their mana was rampaging. Their hate was quickly building up inside the small room. He noticed how the temperature dropped ever so slightly because of it.
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“So what happened?” Mannat asked to distract them. “Pandit told me Sarpanch set a council against me?”
Gande stomped when he mentioned the man. “Don’t let him get into my hands! I’m going to butcher him alive and feed his meat to him. He’s an animal and should be treated as such!”
“We… dealt with it,” Raesh answered with a cough.
“The Sarpanch went too far,” Khargosh added. “He beat the boys to the brink of death and it made it easier for us to find the truth.”
“Are they alive?”
“Why, are you worried about them?’ Soman asked. “Shouldn’t you look at yourself, first? You don’t look half better than them either.”
Her direct words made Raesh frown, but she got Gande’s support and Pandit was the one whose heartbeat grew rapid. Sweat accumulated on his forehead from the pressure he faced. The possibilities were endless. He simply hoped the foolish girl hadn’t let the roaches out of their container. They might not hurt her but would come to bite him later in the night. The way his mother ignored him, perhaps she already knew. His trials were as endless as the stars and possibilities.
Mannat grinned. Maybe it was his liveliness or his utter lack of anger and remorse that relaxed the atmosphere. It didn’t take long for the former silence to be taken over by frantic questions and teasing by his friends. Mannat liked the noise and the conversations that spanned over a vast array of topics. He was warm, safe, and loved. He was home.
The Witch’s hut was a bleak desert in comparison. The difference was between serenity and happiness, and other's presence.
Then Mannat saw Gande return with a herbal paste made from the packet of herbs that Pandit had given her, and his face fell by a few shades.
“I really don’t need it anymore. I’m fine,” He said, but nobody listened to him. He was injured and they knew better than to let him get his way.
Gande saw him hesitating and gave the Paste to Raesh, who not knowing what to do with it simply stood in his place until Sharmilla raised a hand to him. “I’ll do it.” She said wiping the last tears hanging at her eyes with the sleeve of her Dark blue chiffon blouse.
She saw her old man glaring at her and a shade of red crept up her neck. She somehow ignored him, but everyone else was also staring. She saw her sister mumble something with a smile, and the tears almost returned right away. ‘Remember, it was only a kiss,’ Chahhat has lisped.
“It’s really all right.” Mannat rubbed her back to soothe her emotions, but it didn’t work. Pandit’s snort was not helpful either. Soman kicked the foolish boy in the shin, but Pandit didn’t show it, other than by a twitch of his lips.
“Lay down,” Sharmilla said with a tensed heart, and Mannat reluctantly followed. Seeing the two getting intimate the adults left the room, while Pandit sighed.
“It’s really bad,” He said and Soman agreed. “How could they do such a cruel thing to such a sweet boy?” She said and licked her lips.
“Not that!” Pandit groaned. “I’m talking about how intimate they are. Look at how she’s taking care of him.”
“Go get hurt like that, and I’ll take extra care of you.” Soman stuck to him and rubbed a finger down Pandit’s chest. She peered into his eyes as her finger slid deeper and deeper, down his navel and under his belt. A shiver went down Pandit’s spine and the hair on his arm stood up along with other things. Soman’s finger touched something hard and Pandit smirked slyly.
“Say, Mannat’s room next door is empty. How about we continue this conversation in there?” Pandit whispered in her ears
“Get out of here,” Soman pushed Pandit back and drove him out of the room, only to find Sharmilla looking at her with both curiosity and impatience. She clicked her tongue, said goodbye, and left the two alone in the room.
“What do you think they were talking about?” Sharmilla asked Mannat, who shook his head.
“I have no idea.” He said.
“All right I’m done with your back.”
“That’s good,” Mannat tried to get up, only to get pushed back to the bed. He hissed and Sharmilla apologized in hurry before asking him, “Remove your pants.”
She said with a straight face, but they could hear each other's hearts beats. Both of them were bubbling with excitement.
“Why?” Mannat asked. “I’m not hurt… down there.”
Sharmilla let out a cold snort. “I saw you limping. Don’t try to hide our injuries from me,” She opened his belt, pulled and moaned, while Mannat fought hard to keep his pants on.
While they fought over Mannat’s pants, Soman was right outside the door and could hear their grunt and moan. She barely held her hands from opening the door a smudge and peeking inside. Her body smoldered with passion. It was impossible for her to keep calm. The two inside the room were too rowdy, and her imagination was too rich. Precipitation made her clothes cling to her body. The breaths she exhaled were hot and lively. They wanted her to do something lecherous.
For a moment, she looked at the room opposite her in longing. She wondered if Pandit was inside. She extended a shivering hand to check but pulled back when her mind reminded her of her goal. No permanent relation until she was financially stable. That was what she had decided after her mother died in poverty.
Sighing, she turned around and left the two lovebirds behind the closed door to play with each other.