Ankhush's mind raced. He knew exactly how this would play out if he fought back. 'If they hit me first, I'll just tell the teacher. She'll take care of them.'
He decided to stay quiet, pretending not to notice them.
But the bullies weren't the type to be ignored.
Bully 1 sneered. "Are you some kind of attention-seeking idiot?"
Bully 2 smirked. "Or maybe just a desperate little w**re, screaming for no reason?"
Ankhush clenched his fists under the desk. His body tensed, but before he could react, someone else did.
Mansh.
He stepped up beside Ankhush, his expression eerily calm. Unbothered. As if their insults didn't even register as a threat.
"I don't know about Ankhush," Mansh said casually, "but your mom's the one who moans so much—I can hear her every time I think about her."
The words landed like a slap.
Bully 2's face darkened with rage.
"You little—!"
He lunged at Mansh, grabbing his collar with all his strength.
For a brief moment, time stood still.
Then, everything happened at once.
Before Bully 2 could throw a punch, Ankhush shoved him backward. The force sent him stumbling onto a nearby bench.
At the same moment, Mansh clenched his fist and swung hard. His punch connected squarely with Bully 1's face, bruising his eye.
A stunned silence followed.
The bullies sat there, momentarily shocked. Then, realizing they were outmatched, they scrambled to their feet and ran out of the classroom.
But instead of retaliating, they chose a different tactic—playing the victim.
Moments later, they burst into the staff room, fake tears streaming down their faces.
Bully 1 sniffled dramatically. "Look, ma'am! What Mansh and Ankhush did to us! They waited for you to leave so they could hurt us."
Bully 2 pointed at his friend's swollen eye. "Look! My friend's eye is bruised!"
The teacher, already annoyed with Ankhush after his earlier outburst, barely took a second to consider their words. Her expression darkened, and without waiting for an explanation, she stormed toward Class 3-2.
The moment she entered, her piercing glare landed directly on Mansh and Ankhush.
They froze, feeling the weight of her anger before she even spoke.
Her voice was sharp, cutting through the silence. She scolded them harshly, her tone filled with disappointment.
But just as she was about to continue, Mansh stepped forward.
His voice was firm but respectful.
"Ma'am, they were trying to bully Ankhush first. I saw them and stepped in to stop it. Then they tried to hit me, so Ankhush just pushed one of them away. That's how they got hurt."
The teacher's eyes narrowed. Slowly, she turned toward the bullies.
"So… you two started this?" Her voice was low, dangerously calm. "You were trying to bully them first? And then you LIED to me?"
The bullies immediately shrank under the teacher's glare, their smugness vanishing in an instant. They looked down at the floor, shifting uncomfortably, knowing they had been caught.
The silence in the room was deafening.
Finally, the teacher let out a sharp sigh. "Lying to a teacher and attempting to bully a student?" She shook her head. "You two are suspended for two weeks."
The bullies flinched but didn't dare argue.
Then, she turned her stern gaze toward Mansh and Ankhush. "As for you two… I understand you were defending yourselves, but fighting is not tolerated in this school. You're both suspended for five days."
Mansh and Ankhush exchanged a glance but knew there was no use protesting.
Their fate was sealed.
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After receiving his suspension notice, Ankhush left the school, heading home. But even as he walked, his thoughts were tangled in a web of confusion.
'Why is this novel so similar to my life?'
'How could it describe everything that's happening to me?'
'Is this really just a coincidence?'
The questions gnawed at him, refusing to let go.
Before he knew it, he had reached home.
The moment he stepped inside, his mother noticed him. Her eyes flickered to the clock—12 PM.
Her brows furrowed. "Why are you home so early? School finishes at 3 PM. Was it a half-day or something?"
Ankhush hesitated.
He could lie. Say something believable. But how long could he hide something like this? Eventually, his parents would find out.
Taking a deep breath, he decided to tell the truth.
"I got suspended for five days."
The air in the room grew tense.
His mother's expression darkened instantly. Disappointment. Anger. Her gaze bore into him, demanding an explanation.
Her voice was sharp. "What did you do this time?"
Ankhush lowered his head. "I… I was so shocked to see something on my phone that I screamed in the middle of class."
His mother's eyes widened slightly. "What?"
"And then," he continued, "when the teacher left, some kids started bullying me. I got into a fight with them."
His mother stared at him for a moment, as if trying to decide whether she should be angrier about the fight or the fact that he had been using his phone in class.
His mother let out a long, tired sigh.
"It wasn't your fault," she admitted. "They were the ones trying to bully you."
For a moment, Ankhush thought she might let it go.
But then, her expression hardened. "That doesn't mean fighting was the right choice. You need to control yourself, Ankhush. Violence will only make things worse."
Ankhush nodded silently, guilt creeping in. He knew she was right, but he also knew he couldn't have just stood there and done nothing.
Still, there was something more important on his mind right now.
"Mom…" he hesitated. "Can you meet the teacher and get my phone back?"
His mother's eyes narrowed instantly.
"Wait. Why does she have your phone? Don't tell me—" her voice sharpened, "—you were using it in the middle of class again?!"
Ankhush gulped.
The next hour was pure torture. His mother's scolding seemed endless, her voice rising and falling as she lectured him about responsibility, school rules, and how careless he was being.
By the time she finished, he felt like he had aged ten years.
Finally, with one last exasperated sigh, she grabbed her purse. "I'm going to talk to your teacher. Stay home. And don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."
The moment the front door shut behind her, Ankhush sprang into action.
He rushed to his brother's room. Normally, his brother was never home at this time—he had college classes and a part-time job, which meant his room was empty.
Ankhush searched the desk, then the drawers.
And then—there it was.
His brother's old phone.
He pressed the power button. The screen flickered on.
'No lock.'
"Perfect."
"Thanks, brother."
Wasting no time, he quickly downloaded the WBNovel app. His fingers trembled slightly as he typed in the search bar.
*Novel of Reality.*
The page loaded. He scrolled down, found the latest chapter—the one Mansh had been talking about.
His heartbeat quickened.
He clicked on it.
The screen refreshed.
The words appeared.
And then—
Ankhush felt his breath catch in his throat.
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The chapter unfolds:
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**A/N:** Please save this to your library and support it with gems if you enjoy the story. If you have any thoughts, feel free to leave a comment! Also, if you find any mistakes, please let me know. Thank you, and have a great day!