Inserting these absolutely exquisite and intense character aesthetics by . Thank you so much!!! I. AM. IN. LOVE.

"How many of you know the difference between good and bad?" Azlan asked the hodgepodge of 1st, 2nd, and 3rd standard students gathered around in the largest classroom of the school while he stood behind the dice as the principal fixed the poster Safa had made for the drive, on the easel.

The children exchanged glances at such an easy and lame question.

"Well, by your reaction, I guess all of you do, then." He placed his forearms on the mahogany top as a small smile reached his lips, making his eyes crinkle.

They all nodded.

"Why don't you tell me the meaning of bad?" He pointed towards the third girl in the forth row.

"Something that does not make me feel good, something that's not right and might be dangerous." She tugged at her pig tail.

"Very good!" He gave her an approving nod. "Now, you tell me the meaning of good." He pointed towards a six year old boy.

"Something that makes me feel safe and comfortable," he almost stuttered.

"Excellent!" He threw him an exuberant smile while the principal clapped for both the students.

"Alright, now just as there are certain things that can make you feel either secured or in danger, there are two types of touches that can make you feel the exact same way; good touch and bad touch," he divulged while they all looked at each other with calculating gaze, not being able to understand what he meant.

"There are certain body parts of ours that are revealed at most times if not all. For example; our faces, forearms, hands, and feet. Now, when some touch you there, it's not dangerous. You feel safe, right?"

They all nodded in unison as they intently waited for him to go on.

"But then there are those parts that are covered at all times. Like, our chest, the part between our legs, and our lower back." As he narrated, the principal pointed at each of the three parts on the poster.

"Now, these are your private parts. And no one. I repeat, no one is allowed to touch them except your parents, or when you go to the doctor's and he examines you. But, only in the presence of your parents. You getting me?"

"YES, SIR!" They all chanted together.

"But sometimes when someone pulls your cheeks or rubs your back with care, you don't feel comfortable. It happens, right?"

Majority of the students nodded.

"Then what do you do in that case?"

An eerie silence descended upon the room while each of them went quiet.

His heart clenched at their innocence and naivety of their parents as his smoldering orbs mirrored the storming night falling over the deepest of darkest oceans. He felt ashamed to be a part of people who'd rather let their children get harassed at the hands of others than teaching them about such an important topic only because they consider it an "adult talk."

"You shout 'NO,' alright?" No one's allowed to touch you without your permission. It's your body and you're the boss of yourself! Who is the boss of your body?" He questioned, his voice above a few octaves.

"US!" They sang together.

"If someone makes you uncomfortable with their touch, what do you say?"

"NO!"

"Bravo! You all are really fast learners and I'm proud of you," he announced with a huge grin intact on his lips while all of them coyed at the endearment.

"Now, the other thing you need to know is that the person doesn't always have to be a stranger. It could be someone you know, your relative, your friend, or sometimes maybe even your teacher. You have to be cautious. And as soon as something like this happens, there are three things you need to do. Three simple things;

A) Tell them off,

B) Run away,

C) Tell your parents everything."

"What is the first thing you need to do?" He asked, thrusting his forefinger in the count and so on.

"And what if the person tells you it's a secret and should remain between just the two of you? What do you do in that case?" He inquired with raised eyebrows while the principal wounded her arms on her chest.

"We stay quiet!" Few of them uttered. Just what he was expecting.

"Wrong answer! You don't stay quiet. In that case it becomes absolutely obligatory to tell your parents or anyone you trust or someone you're close to. You're getting me?"

"YES, SIR!"

"Now, one last thing you have to remember is that no matter how much the other person insists the blame will fall on you and the only way out is for you to stay quiet, you will never listen to them. You will tell your confidants each and everything. You need to know we'll only trust you and not the other person. You need to know you're right and that truth always wins no matter how strong the lie might be. You need to know you have us by your side. That we've got your back."

******

Half drooping on left side, she had propped her head on her right hand balled up in a fist as she mindlessly ran the charcoal pencil on the sketchbook perched on the table she was sitting at in the staff room, concocting yet such enthralling and exotic designs.

Art was her hobby but her paintings would never fail to give an impression of a trained artist. It was as if she had mastered in these unique threads of designs.

But her mind was still stuck in the last night's events. She was worried beyond lenghts for Ayyan. And now, Mansha. What if her fate turns out to be just like hers? What if she goes through the same anguish she did? And what if Ayyan has some serious illness?

No. I won't let it happen. Both of them will stay safe no matter what extent I have to go to.

"AsSalamuAlaikum! Do you by any chance happen to know where Azlan is if you're not too busy talking to ghosts around you."

The chain of her self-talk was broken by a very pleasing Arham, standing by the door like a gentleman with his hands clasped together on the front.

She eyed him suspiciously as she stood up and greeted him back.

"I wasn't talking to ghosts. I was talking to myself," she said as she cinched the ivory cashmere closer to her chest.

"That makes it so much better." He grinned and a dimple materialized on his left cheek. She had a weird urge to poke it.

"Anyways, I came here to ask about Azlan Shehryar. Been waiting in his office for half an hour and he still hasn't shown up."

"Oh, of course. You must be the architect he told us about." She touched her temple in epiphany.

"No actually--"

"Come with me. I'll take you to him. He must be almost done with the drive as of now, I assume." Not letting him continue, she beckoned him out of the staff room.

"Well might I warn you, he looks like a freaking Neanderthal so you might get scared. I can't even imagine the torture he might be putting those innocent kids through with his long nonsensical orates. But you don't have to be afraid. I'll be there by your side. Doesn't even say a single word in front of me." She lifted her head up in pride and scrunched her nose.

"Oh, really?" Arham feigned to be frightened.

"Mhm. You know Voldemort from Harry Potter?"

He nodded.

"He's just like that. Only, Voldemort is quite handsome in front of him."

A loud laughing snort left his mouth as he fell in fits at the remark.

"And you must give tough competition to Professor Umbridge," he jibed and she hawed.

"Yeah, now walk straight or else I'll turn you into a cat!" She threatened with the phoniest of smiles.

Four different queues of students emerged out of the classroom one by one as they stood by the side.

"Remember what I told you. Do not be afraid of that Satan. I'm right here!"

"Yes, ma'am!" He cowered, clearly amused by such lovely endearments for his best friend. She had compared him to the three most deadly creatures in just a few minutes. He was so going to tease him for all of this. It was as if he had gotten his hands on a golden key. This girl was definitely something.

"Oye, Arham, you're here already?" Azlan addressed him on catching his sight as he walked towards him with a flashing smile.

Now now, what's with all that toothy smile? So gay!

"Yes, man. There wasn't much traffic so I arrived quickly," he informed as he slammed his hand on his and they hugged each other in a brotherly manner while Safa stood rooted to her spot, perplexed at the familiarity and friendliness.

"Meet him," Azlan accosted the principal. "This is Arham Nawaz. My friend and secretary."

To say, earth was flipped away from under Safa's feet would be an understatement as her eyes bogged out of their sockets and jaws dropped to the ground.

"And I can see you've already met Ms. Hayat."

"Oh, yes, of course. And heard loads of good thoughts about you, too."

"What do you mean?" Azlan furrowed, eyes wiggling between the two of them.

"I... I... err... have a class to take. I think I should go," she stammered furtively and without even listening anything, vanished out of sight after surreptitiously nudging Arham hardly on the side of his stomach.

******

A/N

Please please please, if you have children in your homes, kindly reach out and educate them on this sensitive topic. They need to be aware of these thing because the world we live in is not safe at all.

Almost everyday we hear incidents about kids getting raped/harassed in places that are supposed to give them protection, to make them feel safe. And as parents/siblings/relatives/teachers, it is our responsibility to tell them the difference between right and wrong.

And NO, it is nothing to be ashamed of. Not telling them is.

Anyhoo, the chapter got pretty long! I hope you aren't annoyed and do leave your feedback. I need to know if I'm going the right way or if I was able to do a wee bit of justice to the topic I picked up.