When the Silence Breaks

The mess hall at KMA always carried a kind of after-battle electricity after a field exercise. Cadets were still buzzing with adrenaline, recounting narrow slips and unlikely saves, voices rising above the scrape of chairs and the clatter of steel trays. The smell of dal and parathas mingled with the sharper tang of sweat and boot polish, a reminder that glory never smelled particularly glamorous.

Vidya slipped in with Shalini, her field kit traded for a neat kurta and a braid pulled over her shoulder. Her body still carried the rhythm of the hills—the pace Gunny had set, relentless and exacting—but her mind replayed something else entirely. The word loyalty and the way his eyes had betrayed him for a heartbeat before he slammed the door shut again.

"Doctor-sahiba!" Rummy's voice cut across the tables, a grin plastered across his boyish face. He waved exaggeratedly, nearly knocking Peter's glass of water into his lap. "Come, come—tell us how it feels to survive Sudarshan-Delta under the reign of General Gunny."

Laughter rippled through the cadets nearby. Purvi rolled her eyes, but even she was smiling.

Vidya arched an eyebrow as she and Shalini joined the table. "Reign? Last I checked, it was an exercise, not a monarchy."

"That's only because you didn't see his face when the poor cadet tripped on the ridge," Rummy said, eyes wide with mock terror. "I swear, if looks could kill, we'd be burying Singh right now."

Peter chimed in, grinning. "But ma'am, you kept up with him. Respect. Even we were struggling at that pace."

Purvi leaned forward, her sharp gaze landing on Rummy. "Exactly. Instead of teasing, you should learn something from her. She didn't complain once."

"True," Shalini agreed, her voice warm. "Most people forget that stamina isn't just about muscle. It's about focus. And Vidya has that in spades."

Vidya shook her head, smiling despite herself. "It's called doing my job."

"Doing your job," Rummy echoed dramatically. "You mean chasing after Captain Randhawa like some mountain goat and still having the breath to calm down that 'civilian' cadet? Admit it—you've got superpowers."

More laughter. Someone clapped. Even Purvi's stern mouth twitched.

Vidya raised her hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. I'll take the mountain goat comment as a compliment."

She laughed with them, but beneath the surface she was listening, observing. Cadets spoke of Gunny's pace with awe, of his commands with certainty. He terrified them, yes, but he also anchored them. None doubted that if it had been real, they would have walked out alive because he had been at the front.

It was loyalty. The very thing he had flinched at when she said it aloud.

The mess door creaked open, and the air shifted. Gunny entered.

He was late, as always, the last to arrive. He didn't look around, didn't acknowledge the chatter that dimmed instinctively at his presence. He simply collected his tray, his movements economical, and crossed to the officers' table where Rajveer and Abhi were already seated.

As he sat, Vidya saw the subtle realignment of the room. Cadet voices lowered, not out of fear but because they were listening, even unconsciously, to the man who rarely spoke but whose silence meant something.

Gunny didn't eat quickly, but he ate with the same precision he lived by. Every movement efficient. Every glance directed only at what mattered. He said little—answered Abhi with one-word acknowledgments, inclined his head at Rajveer's low remark—but never opened the door further than necessary.