MIRAGE OF HEARTSTRINGS

AVERSION

That sight of evening remained printed in the second elder Pandava's mind. Whether it was just his mind or was it that? He didn't confront it.

It happened without intention.

Bhima had not gone looking for Duryodhana. No, he didn't.
He had been returning from the outer granaries, sleeves rolled, dust still clinging to his palms. The sun had begun its slow surrender - not yet orange, not yet dim, but suspended in that moment when shadows grew long enough to be noticed.

Duryodhana was there.

Seated on the low stone ledge near the old practice grounds, armor discarded, upper cloth loose, posture slack in a way Bhima rarely saw. Lakshman was gone - escorted inside earlier - and for once, Duryodhana did not look as though he was guarding a perimeter even while resting.

Bhima slowed.
Not stopped. Not turned.
Just......slowed.

Duryodhana noticed him only when Bhima's shadow crossed the edge of the stone.

"You look like you fought the earth itself," Duryodhana said, voice rough but not unkind.

Bhima huffed "The earth doesn't complain."

Duryodhana snorted - a sound too quiet to be laughter, too real to be politeness.

"Sit," he said, shifting slightly to make space.

The mace warrior hesitated. When did Duryodhana become so comfortable? Had he decided to stop running? Or was it just peace of Lakshman that made him free? He gave it a thought but soon discard it.

Then sat.

No ceremony. No reason given. Their shoulders did not touch - but the space between them was small enough to feel warm.

They watched the sky change.

Minutes passed without conversation. Bhima's breathing slowed without his noticing. Duryodhana's spine, usually held like a blade, eased back against the stone.

It felt.....easy.

That was the dangerous part.

He wanted to ask about that evening? About when Duryodhana became close to his elder brother? About why it felt different than the sight? Why the sight he saw made him unfamiliar with his own brother? Why despite wanting it to be hidden, he wanted to interfere in between to make Duryodhana relieved?

But he didn't. Instead—

"You shouldn't carry all of it yourself," Bhima said suddenly.

Duryodhana glanced sideways. Oblivious. Or pretending to be. "All of what?"

Bhima shrugged, hands resting on his knees. "Whatever you're holding so tight it doesn't let you sleep" Cause he has seen the restlessness. And knew how it felt to be victim of it.

Duryodhana's jaw flexed.

He did not deny it.
He did not accept it either.

"You always talk like burdens are objects," Duryodhana said. "Things to be shifted"

It was a quick reply.
Excuse.
Shield.
Defence.
But neither truth nor answer.

But the mace warrior will not point it.
No. But it doesn't mean he won't reply.

"They are," Bhima replied simply. "Or they crush you"

Silence followed - not sharp, not offended.

Thinking silence.