Collage Boy Yashu

Chapter 11 Battle Conversation

The wait was finally over. As soon as the college bell rang, classes ended and the last lecture of the day concluded. The crowd of students on campus began to thin out slowly. Some rode off on bicycles, others laughed and chatted with friends, while a few walked alone toward their homes. But inside the classroom, four people remained—Mukesh, Yash, Sameer, and Harshita. Everyone else had left, but these four were gearing up for an unspoken battle.

Mukesh stood up from his chair and looked at Harshita, his brows furrowed. "Hey Harshita, you're still here? Don't you have to go home?"

Harshita closed her notebook and smiled as she replied, "You know I'm aware that you three are about to clash with the seniors. How can I just slip away quietly? What if something happens?"

Sameer interrupted, his voice clearly laced with worry. "Look, Harshita, you really should leave from here. They're seniors—twenty to twenty-five of them. If they get angry, they might even raise a hand on you. Got it?"

Harshita shook her head, but instead of fear, there was a strange gleam in her eyes. "No, Sameer, I'm not going. You three won't fight alone. I'm with you."

Yash checked his watch and stood up. "Come on, guys, it's time. Let's head to the gate outside. If we delay, they'll get even angrier."

Mukesh and Sameer exchanged glances and nodded. "Alright, let's go." The four picked up their bags and stepped out of the classroom. The silence in the corridor now felt heavy. As they emerged outside, a cool breeze brushed their faces, but no one's mind was at peace.

On the way, Harshita pulled out her phone and dialed a number. Pressing it to her ear, she spoke in a low voice, explaining everything—the seniors' threat, their numbers, and now the fact that they were heading to the gate outside. Finally, she said, "You come quickly too, stay nearby."

Mukesh, Yash, and Sameer were listening to all this. The three stopped in their tracks. Sameer raised an eyebrow. "Who are you calling?"

Harshita pocketed the phone and smiled. "Just a friend. Don't worry."

The three said nothing, but a seed of doubt had been planted in their minds.

The Scene at the Gate

The college's main gate. The sun was setting, scattering its last rays in shades of red and orange. Outside the gate, on the road, stood twenty to twenty-five seniors. Each held sticks, rods, and chains in their hands. Arrogance etched on their faces, challenge in their eyes. In the center stood Yusuf—their boss. Tall, broad-shouldered, with cold cruelty in his eyes.

Standing right in front of him were our four juniors. Harshita a bit behind, the other three in front. Seeing the numbers, Yash's breathing quickened. Mukesh clenched his fists, Sameer spat on the ground.

Just then, the sound of a bike engine roared from the side. A guy in a helmet and black jacket dismounted. He didn't remove the helmet, just called out, "Hey Harshita! Come over here!"

Harshita's eyes lit up. She chirped happily, "Come with me!" and pulled the three toward the unknown guy.

Mukesh, Yash, and Sameer gritted their teeth looking at him. His face was covered, but his build, his voice—everything felt eerily familiar. But no one said a word.

Yash whispered to Mukesh, "This... this is the same guy, right?"

Mukesh nodded. "Yeah."

Now the three were ready. Fists clenched, breaths heavy. Three against twenty. Surrender wasn't an option.

Yusuf stepped forward. He raised a hand to silence his group. Then, with a cold smile, he said, "Listen. I know today your bones are going to break. But still, I'm fair. I'll give you one chance."

He paused, everyone's breath held.

"If you want to fight one-on-one, say so. I'll set up a tournament. One after another. If you win, I'll let you go. If you lose... well, you get it."

Then he laughed and added, "Or if all three come at once... better call an ambulance now. Your choice. What'll it be?"

The three looked at each other.

A thousand thoughts raced through Yash's mind—one by one? Maybe a chance. But they'd tire out separately. All together? The numbers would crush them.

Mukesh glanced at Harshita. She was quiet, her hand on the unknown guy's shoulder.

Sameer said softly, "Guys, should we fight one by one?"

Yash shook his head. "No. Together. If we're going to lose, we'll lose together."

Mukesh closed his eyes. Then opened them. "Fine. Together."

Yusuf laughed. "Bravo! You're brave."

He signaled. The twenty started advancing.

Just then, the helmeted guy stepped forward. He removed his helmet.

And said...

"Look, I don't know the full story, but from what I've seen with my own eyes, it's clear what's going on here. I can't tolerate this injustice. That's why I've decided to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with them and fight too..."

In response, Yash suddenly yelled, "No need!" His voice was so harsh and loud that it echoed all around. He stepped forward and continued, "This is our fight... only ours! That's why we'll fight it ourselves." Anger burned clearly in his eyes, as if he wouldn't allow anyone to interfere.

Mukesh, standing a bit back, muttered to himself—Yash's passion is spot on, there's fire in him... but if that guy fought with us, our strength would increase.

And the guy, who had just removed his helmet and set it aside, stayed silent for a moment. Then suddenly, he realized Yash's words had humiliated him. He smiled faintly, shrugged his shoulders in a mocking way, and said, "Oh wow! Alright then... go fight alone! Be the hero, be Superman! Just don't come crying for help when your bones break and you need a cast!" As he spoke, he laughed and stepped back, standing right next to Harshita, as if saying—I'm in the safe zone.

A storm raged in Yash's mind. He grumbled to himself—Why would I ever take help from you? Yes, you're Harshita's boyfriend, that's one thing... but you're nothing to us. And honestly, I don't even want to see your face! His gaze lingered on the guy for a second, then turned away in disgust.

Meanwhile, Yusuf, who was standing on the other side enjoying the show, cracked his knuckles. He couldn't wait any longer. Smiling, he signaled his first five men—"Go... now the fun begins!" The five advanced, gripping their sticks, chains, and whatever weapons they had tightly.

And from this side, Yash, Mukesh, Sameer—the three took a collective breath and stepped forward. Dust kicked up from the ground. People from both sides started running slowly... the clash was now just a few steps away.