Right the next day, while in the office, Abhay called saying they had to go on their road trip. Especially so, since they had to let go of all the sadness that God put them through.

Geetha huffed and said, "Does he want us to go bankrupt?" They had been away for enough time. They could not afford any holiday in the next one month.

Still, they packed their bags only a week later because Abhay came to a compromise and the trip was shortened to 3 days and included the weekend. It wasn't much of a loss.

Early that Friday, Abhay came to pick them up. His red shades matched the fiery red vehicle he drove.

As soon as he saw Ramit, he stepped out of his car and hugged him. Geetha did not have any intention to greet him, but this guy was closer to her husband than herself. She interrupted their moment. "Matching colours is good, but you look like a clown."

Ramit knew he should not laugh, he didn't. But he didn't say anything either. This has been the dynamic between them since highschool.

However, Abhay wasn't taking this treatment anymore. Now that the witch was actually trying to be good to his brother, he could finally get back at her!

"Ramit, if we're friends, then keep your wife in line!"

Ramit smiled at him and turned to lock his gaze with Geetha. While his smile was on, she understood he was silently daring her to defy.

"Fine! You have a... unique style," she complimented Abhay.

Ramit let out a chuckle. "Happy now?"

"On whose side are you!" Abhay took off his glasses. Did that sound good coming from the witch? No!

Ramit stifled his laughter while Geetha thinned her lips and dragged them into a smile.

Poor him, Abhay thought he was going to have an upper hand this time. But nothing changed. Fine! He had Deepa on his side, anyway.

"Get in!" He punched Ramit in disgruntlement, putting in only a fourth of his strength.

∼•∽

Their next stop was within the city, half an hour away. The board on the building said, 'Sarthak Fighting Club.'

Abhay told them to wait and went in.

Deepali was a prime fighter of the club and her weapon was the staff. When the gym became boring, he joined the club to learn karate, but decided to hold the staff for her. She was running to be the president of the entire fighting club this year and he knew she was very much capable of a murder.

The first time he saw her was in a roofless and floorless field unlike other clubs, which had big rooms. He thought she was a cute chick and strutted over to her. Unlike during school, now no sane person would call him beautiful. When he hit puberty, his mole was covered with his facial hair. Ramit preferred shaving while he considered his moustache a gift and groomed it everyday.

Before he spoke, he caught her attention, he thought as she asked, "New?"

"Yeah," he smirked. She spoke to him first. He knew he could charm her.

"New to the club or new to fighting?"

What should he say? Would she look down on him if he said he did not know how to fight? As he thought, something shone in his eyes. The baby pink nail polish reflected the sun through the dust on her feet. Her cute toes looked beautiful. He simply gave her a charming smile and asked, "What about you?"

She threw the stick in her hand to a whopping 4 metre high into the air. It twisted all through its journey before it gracefully landed into her firm grip. He had taken a few steps back fearing it would hit his head but then he saw how the powerful impact did not even shake the girl's slender arm and dropped all of his attitude.

"New to everything," he said, his smile wiped off him.

"Then behave like it. Here no one with lesser skill can approach someone at a higher level by themselves."

She then showed him a line. "Non members don't walk this far in. Who is showing you around?"

He looked around but the guy who was explaining the art of karate was nowhere. He had told him to wait for a moment, but then he saw this sweet chilli dancing with the stick and followed her into another fighting field.

"What are you here for?"

"So you only talked to me because I should not talk to you?"

"To uphold the prestige of the club is my duty. You should not be asking."

"How long have you been learning?"

"I'll tell you again. Here, you don't say anything to anyone above your skill. I've been courteous enough. Please go out." Her voice was crisp and she seemed to control her volume, yet everyone took a look at him. Some quickly got back to their training while some decided to watch some drama. Abhay smiled at them, but stopped when he felt her glare on him.

"How do I join, then?"

Deepali slammed her cane onto the ground. "Step back!" She put the tinner end of the stick to his neck and her stance was threatening.

Without another word, he stepped back until he crossed the line she had shown. Then she angled her stick, gesturing for him to look at the wall. On it were all the rules and the information. The fighting club had many mini clubs, each for a martial art. The cane club had the least number of members.

To join them, all he had to do was leave his footwear, pick up a cane, pick up a manual, and go to an empty spot. No one would train him. He had to study the material and work on his moves, observing and introspecting himself. If any of the seniors are willing, they'd give some guidance. He could help all of his juniors too.

Once he believed he got the hang of the first move, he could move on to the next, and so on. When the material was done, and one of the seniors recognised it as a fact, he would be considered as a permanent member of the club, be notified about their events, and would be allowed to participate in them. He would also get access to the compilations made by the leaders, i.e., top 5 fighters of the cane club. If he wants to add his creation to the compilation, he could put it in a box they had for that purpose.

Finally, the seniors could order him to practise something in particular or with someone and he was not given the right to defy. He could drop out of the club at any time.

Basically, he could not talk before he could fight. Fight better than her.

What the hell, he thought. As he went through the rules once again, Deepali came into his periphery. She was in a fight with someone. Distracted again, he took a step forward. He removed his shoes and walked in watching her.

In the midst of an intense fight, she smiled at him. He understood it to be a welcome and smiled back.

Somewhere after one month of silently breaking his own bones, unable to control the baton the way he wanted, he tried to talk to her again. The moment she stepped out of the training ground, he ran behind her and called her name. She raised an eyebrow, but he pointed at the line they both had crossed.

"Let's not disturb them." She said and walked towards the lockers to take her shoes.

"Do you want to get something to eat? You look exhausted." He pointed to a drop of sweat that rolled down her neck. She was getting sexier by day, with her long legs getting tanned and her skin glistening in sweat all the time. His eyes stayed where the drop escaped into her shirt.

"You didn't sweat even once, did you?" she asked, locking his eyes.

He pointed to all the bruises he had on his arms and legs. Some were fresh, some were healing and the ones he got that day were bumpy. "I cried out many tears though." He had a long way to go until he could, like her, swirl the stick so fast that it was as good as a metal shield and strike the opponent with so much speed and force as his feet puffed up dust from the ground.

Deepali laughed. In the last month, she heard a lot of cries. At first, when she turned her head to see what was wrong, the grown man in front of her forced a smile and got back to the practice as if the wound was nothing. Slowly his resolve broke. He would whimper for a moment longer. Lately though, he made all sorts of sounds if she did not turn to him when he let out an ouch.

Then, there were times he would just sit down in the soil and lean back on his hand and watch her. She squeezed her eyes at those memories, trying not to blush. She had stretched a bit more on each of those occasions. She knew it wasn't just the boost she got from having an admiring audience. A hot guy gazing at her from such an odd direction while he controlled his outgoing and active self to remain silent, and breathed hard from exhaustion or pain, all just made her clench her muscles a little more and reach her leg a little farther.

"What do you want to eat?" she quickly asked, "Do you like panipuri?"

He almost forgot he even asked her to eat just then. Happily he replied, "There?" He pointed to the counter nearby.

"Yeah." They both walked out of the building.

"I thought you won't eat anything unhealthy."

"With all of this exercise everyday, won't I be healthy whatever junk I eat?" She gave him a friendly smile.

Abhay was mesmerised that she had a sense of humour and was willing to have a conversation with him.

They had 20 pieces each and Abhay started talking about her bicycle that she rode everyday there. When they were done, he paid for both.

When it was time to head in opposite directions, he asked, like a student would a teacher, "Can I know your phone number? I... I think I need some help and you know the rules inside." He did not dare to risk his muscles and bones and get a beating, just in case.

She nodded and said a string of numbers and shyly said, "I thought it's because I'm single."

After a few moments, both still held each other's gaze. "Really?" he asked. That was the dumbest response he gave in all of his life.

"I mean... I am also single. Do you remember the first day? I wanted to ask you out right then and there. You are so beautiful but you threw the stick suddenly. I was so scared... even now I asked because I wanted to... get close to you..." He smiled without any disguise as he continued, "Be my girlfriend!"

Deepali also smiled. "Next time you get hurt, just wave your hand. Don't bother the entire room crying. I'll take the 4th spot from tomorrow." The 4th spot meant they'd be facing each other.

"Yes! Let me take you out to dinner." A celebration was necessary.

"All sweating like this?"

"Tomorrow is a Sunday. Are you free?"

"Sure."

"Okay!" He said and dialled the number she gave him.

Her phone rang and she cut the call. When she was about to save his number, she realised she did not know his name.

"What's your name?"

"Abhay!"

She raised her brows. "It suits you."

"Thanks." He saved her number as 'Gorgeous Killer Angel'. That did not mean he did not know her name. She was the second in order of the cane club so people from other clubs would come to the door and call her name often.

That was how it started. The next day, right after dinner, they shared a kiss in his car. The whole next month, to the envy of the rest, she'd come over to tell him where he went wrong or how he could do something better. One guy in particular was resentful of the couple.

He was the only guy who could approach Deepali on the field, the first in their order. He called her to a spar and did not let her off until he left. Abhay could only glare at him and swirl his stick faster despite his muscles paining from the contractions.

After a certain point, Deepali stepped up her practice. Abhay stayed back with her until late at night. He wasn't a great fight partner but she made him stand in the middle with his cane in a position she dictated. Then blows came from all directions. Abhay squeezed his eyes shut out of fear. She told him her precision was great but he could not slow down his heartbeat. Facing her cane meant facing death.

After two months of training late into the nights alongside her, he was on the 11th page of the 78 page manual. Deepali was ready to face the number 1. She formally challenged him to a 10 match test in accordance with the rules. If she won in 8, she'd be their leader. The match would take place at any time the higher one preferred but within the next week.

The match happened on the last day of the window. After the 8th fight, the guy wanted to stop because the result was clear, but Deepali did not let him off. She took him down in all 10 fights.

Abhay watched standing among the audience, which formed a circle around the rink. He was blown away by the woman. She looked dangerous as well as gorgeous.

Ever since then, the guy picked on him instead. Before he had looked down on Abhay but now he was somehow fine with talking to someone on the lowest rung. Abhay waved his hand at Deepali for help as he smirked at the now number 2.

She came over, but to his dismay, asked the other guy to guide him well! She told him to be grateful for having such a qualified person giving him lessons. She asked him to look around to see how many were left in the cold with just the manual. Now that she was the leader of the cane club, the responsibility of seeing that they did not fall behind other clubs was also on her. She left to supervise the rest.

The status quo did not change even to this day. They did have half an hour after most of them left though.

Every Friday morning the leaders of all the clubs had a meeting. It was not that important and many skipped. But Deepali still decided to attend. When Abhay went to the lockers to wait for her, he found her ready to come out.

"Hi!" He said, taking her luggage bag.

"Your friends are here?"

"Not friends! Friend and his wife," he corrected her.

Deepali was confused. What difference did that make? Unless he thought that she was so narrow minded that he could not tolerate him having a female friend.

"I won't pick on you if you have female friends," she said.

"Oh no! You don't know that witch. She's a devil!"

Now she had her doubts. They said there's a thin line between hate and love. So what was it between him and this friend's wife? Were they lovers before she left him for his friend? But he was still friends with that guy. What explained that? Maybe he valued friendship more. That was great, she felt, starting to respect him more.

"Did you like her before?"

Abhay gave her a disgusted look. Did he look like someone with such a bad taste? Well, Deepa was yet to meet her. "Ptui! Yuck! Not at all! That witch does not even know to respect upperclassmen. She's half as gorgeous as you are. She used to bully me! But Ramit lost his sense because of her. He's hoes before bros."

All the respect she garnered for him moments ago turned into ashes. First, he got bullied by a junior. Second, he was talking behind his friend's back. Third, he was calling people names.

"Give me your phone." It was time to change her name on it. She could not have him going around calling her a killer.

"No! Gorgeous Killer Angel," he sang and put his arm around her waist as they approached the car. Deepali smiled and let him be.

∼•∽

A/N:

Alright so... what's a romance book without a meet-cute? I know. I know. This isn't the main couple's meet cute but cut me some slack... btw, I'm sorry for introducing new characters at this point. From next chapter things are going to escalate until the final climax! I'm as excited as I'm nervous.

Time for questions:
1. Thoughts on Abhay and Deepa?

2. A meet-cute in a fighting club. How was it? It was more of narration than description, right... I'm a little sceptical that I did it well...

3. What could go wrong on this trip?

4. Do you know any self-defence?

5. Which self-defence skill would you learn someday?

6. Who know 16 personalities, guess Abhay and Deepa's MBTI. It's probably too early, but do try!

That is all for now. Thanks for reading. See you Monday (hopefully).