#karthi

it's during one metro ride, between arumbakkam and vadapalani, that adithya's entire life changes.

a phone call. just one phone call, and he suddenly can't breathe. he feels his heart sink into his stomach, ribcage splintered and lungs bleeding. there's an enormous weight on his chest that he can hardly bear. he's lucky he managed to find a seat today, because he loses feeling in his legs; he would have fallen had he been standing. he wants to scream. it's right there, lodged in his throat, bitter on the back of his tongue, but there are still a few stops to go. he's on the metro and he can't make a scene. so he swallows it down, hand shaking as he lowers his phone from his ear.

his body moves on autopilot the entire way back. he doesn't know how he gets down at his stop. doesn't remember walking through the station or scanning his ticket to get out. doesn't remember crossing the street to get to his own, and certainly doesn't know how he made it to his apartment door. every fibre of his being shouts i can't! i can't do this! i can't do this! no, no, no, no—

a bell rings somewhere. he doesn't realize he pushed the button. he hears a muffled it's open! and he turns the handle. steps inside. lets the door fall shut behind him.

"hey!" devan comes out of his room, pulling an old t-shirt on, the case for his glasses in hand. "i was wondering—" he stops, seeing the look of pure devastation on his face. devan has seen that look only once before, to a much milder degree, and it was when adithya ran away from home. this looks much. much. worse. his heart starts hammering. "adi?"

"they're dead."

"...what?"

"they're dead." adithya's bag slips off his shoulder and falls to the ground with a thud. his voice wobbles when he repeats, "my parents…they're dead."

devan's glasses case hits the floor with a crack. dread fills him, every crevice of him, heart ripping apart at the anguish his best friend is going through right now. and there's nothing he can do to fix it. "adi…" there's the tiniest noise from the back of adithya's throat, not quite a sob but more of a gasp, like he can't breathe, and devan's instantly moving to him, throws his arms around him, holds him tight. adithya doesn't cry, but he shudders in his embrace like he's ill. face burning like a fever. devan squeezes his eyes shut, tries to ignore the sickening beat in his chest.

adithya says something that he doesn't quite catch, but he definitely feels the man go rigid. he draws away, looking at him in concern. his friend is starting to panic.

"the kids," he breathes, terrified. "the kids, they're—i don't know if—fuck, what if they—" and then he can't continue, just frantically searches for his phone with trembling hands and ragged inhales, jerky exhales. he's tipping over into a point of no return, and devan realizes he needs to get this situation under control right now. adithya, usually the more assertive and aggressive of the two, is—for lack of a better word—incapacitated, so he doesn't have a choice.

"adi. stop." adithya snaps to a halt at devan's voice. "give me your phone." when the man doesn't move, devan reaches over to take it from him, hushing his protests. "you're going to go to your room and pack a bag. we're leaving in half an hour."

speechless, adithya nods.

in the time it takes for his friend to gather up some clothes and essentials, devan calls the last number that appears on his phone. aditya's maternal grandfather. devan's only met the man a couple of times, but he's a good man. willing to answer devan's questions even though his own heart must be breaking, too.

adithya's parents got into a horrible road accident on their way back from a meeting in pudukkottai. they were rushed to a hospital near thanjavur but they were too badly injured to be saved. the kids—adithya's younger siblings—are alive. they didn't go with their parents to the meeting, but stayed with him instead.

thank the gods for that.

he tells adithya's grandfather that they're getting the next bus to thanjavur. that they'll be there as soon as they can. that he's truly sorry for their loss. when he hangs up, there's an emptiness in him. an emptiness that starts to fill as memories well up inside him, but he shoves them firmly down, into the depths of his unconscious. there's no time for all that.