The moment Rishabh said that he wanted to leave, his grandmother's face instantly turned pale. The relief she had felt after seeing him regain consciousness vanished completely. For a few moments, she simply sat there staring at him, unable to process what she had just heard. She had spent the entire day praying for him to wake up, crying beside his bed, blaming God for his suffering, and now the very first thing he was saying after opening his eyes was that he wanted to leave. A strange fear gripped her heart. It felt as though something had changed inside him. The boy sitting in front of her looked the same, but there was something different in his eyes. Something she couldn't explain. Taking a deep breath, she finally gathered the courage to ask him.

"Par Rishabh, beta... kahan jaana chahta hai tu?"

(But Rishabh, my child... where do you want to go?)

Hearing that name, a faint bitterness appeared in Agni's eyes. He slowly lifted his gaze and looked at his grandmother. There was no anger on his face, only calmness. The kind of calmness that usually comes after a person has suffered more pain than they can bear. After remaining silent for a few seconds, he finally spoke.

"Dadi... aap mujhe mere naam se bulaiye. Yeh naam mujhe ab pasand nahi hai."

(Dadi... call me by my real name. I don't like this name anymore.)

His words caught his grandmother completely off guard. Confusion appeared on her face. First he was talking about leaving, and now he was asking her not to call him Rishabh. It was strange because he had never objected before. In fact, he had always introduced himself as Rishabh. He had accepted that name so naturally that everyone eventually forgot he even had another name. Looking at him carefully, she took a deep breath and softly called out the name she hadn't spoken with this much affection in years.

"Agni..."

(Agni...)

For a brief moment, Agni closed his eyes.

Agni.

His real name the name given to him by the people who truly loved him.

The name that actually belonged to him.

Years ago, when he was only nine years old, he had accidentally read a page from Smita Randhawa's diary. In that diary, she had written that if she ever had a son, she wanted to name him Rishabh. At that age, Agni had been desperate for even the smallest amount of affection from his mother. Like every child, he wanted to make her happy. He wanted her to smile because of him at least once. So after reading those words, he started calling himself Rishabh. A child had willingly given up his own identity for the sake of a mother who barely looked at him.

How strange life was.

A mother who didn't even know her own son's real name.

And a son who changed his name just to earn a little bit of her love.

After a long silence, his grandmother finally spoke again.

"Agni... kab jaana hai tujhe?"

(Agni... when do you want to leave?)

Agni didn't hesitate.

"Aaj raat. In fact... abhi."

(Tonight. In fact... right now.)

His answer made her heart sink.

She had expected many things.

But not this.

Not so soon.

Still, she didn't stop him.

Because she understood.

Perhaps better than anyone else.

She had seen everything.

She had seen how this family treated him.

She had seen him waiting for his mother's attention.

Waiting for his father's affection.

Waiting for someone to choose him.

But nobody ever did.

Agni was just a child.

Like every other child, he wanted to play.

He wanted to laugh.

He wanted to be loved.

When he got hurt, he wanted to run into his mother's arms.

When he cried, he wanted someone to wipe away his tears.

But those simple wishes were never fulfilled.

Instead of love, he received neglect.

Instead of warmth, he received loneliness.

Instead of acceptance, he received rejection.

How long could anyone continue living like that?

His grandmother lowered her eyes, unable to hide the pain in her heart.

She had thought she would get more time with him.

She had thought she could keep him beside her for a little longer.

But perhaps fate had other plans.

Just then, Agni looked at her and spoke again.

"Dadi... main wapas aaunga. Aapke paas zaroor aaunga. Lekin abhi mujhe jaana hoga."

(Dadi... I will come back. I will definitely return to you. But right now, I have to leave.)

The moment she heard those words, the fear inside her heart eased a little.

The truth was that she had been wondering whether this would be the last time she saw him.

Whether he would disappear from her life completely.

But hearing his promise brought her comfort.

A faint smile appeared on her lips.

"Tujhe kabse mere dil ki baatein samajh aane lagi?"

(Since when did you start understanding the thoughts in my heart?)

A small smile appeared on Agni's face.

"Kyunki aap meri dadi ho... aur main aapka pota."

(Because you're my grandmother... and I'm your grandson.)

His grandmother laughed softly through her tears.

But Agni lowered his eyes.

Of course, he couldn't tell her the truth.

He couldn't tell her that he had already lived one life.

That he had seen his own death.

That he had burned alive.

That somehow destiny had sent him back.

His body belonged to a thirteen-year-old boy.

But his soul belonged to a man who had already experienced betrayal, loss, pain, and death.

A cold determination slowly settled inside him.

This time things would be different.

This time he wouldn't beg for love.

Wouldn't chase after people who never cared.

Wouldn't allow himself to remain weak.

He would become strong enough that nobody could ever trample over him again.

And somewhere deep inside his heart, another promise formed.

"Main apne saath hue har anyay ka hisaab loonga. Main har dard ka badla loonga. Aur uss insaan ko bhi dhoondh nikaaloonga jisne mujhe maara tha."

(I will settle the score for every injustice done to me. I will take revenge for every pain I suffered. And I will find the person who killed me.)

After a while, his grandmother wiped her tears and stood up.

"Theek hai. Main tera samaan pack kar deti hoon."

(Alright. I'll pack your belongings.)

But before she could move, Agni stopped her.

"Nahi Dadi. Mujhe Mrs. Smita Randhawa ya unke pati ke paise se kuch bhi nahi chahiye. Na unke paise se kharida hua samaan. Main sirf wahi cheezein le jaaunga jo main apne saath lekar aaya tha."

(No Dadi. I don't want anything bought with Mrs. Smita Randhawa's money or her husband's money. Not even a single thing. I will only take the belongings that I brought with me.)

There was no anger in his voice.

No hatred.

Just disappointment.

The kind of disappointment that comes when a person finally stops expecting anything from someone.

The truth was that Agni had never really used anything that belonged to his parents.

Most of the things he owned were either brought from his grandparents' house or purchased by his grandmother herself.

His grandmother looked at him quietly before gently cupping his cheek.

"Main tujhe unke paise ka kuch de bhi nahi rahi. Jo bhi hai... yeh sab mere paise ka hai."

(I'm not giving you anything bought with their money. Everything here... was bought with my own money.)

For a moment, Agni didn't say anything.

His throat tightened slightly.

Because in a house full of strangers...

In a place where he had spent years feeling unwanted...

There was still one person who had never abandoned him.

One person who had loved him without expecting anything in return.

His grandmother.

And looking into her tear-filled eyes, Agni silently promised himself that no matter what happened in this life, he would never let anything happen to her.