Tick. Tick. Tick.
The alarm clock flashed 7:30 AM. It had been screaming for half an hour.
A hand slapped it — missed. A pillow followed. The clock fell silent.
Inside the messy apartment, Sato finally cracked one eye open. His hair was a bird's nest, and his expression? A man who had seen street wars… but not Mondays.
"...Huh?" he blinked at the clock.
7:55 AM.
His calm face twisted.
"DAMMIT!"
Fast cut: Bathroom chaos. Toothbrush clenched between teeth, foam dripping as he shampooed his hair with one hand and splashed water with the other.
Fast cut: A half-buttoned shirt, tie hanging like a noose, socks unmatched.
Fast cut: Bread in mouth, jam packet still sealed, as he ran down the stairs two at a time.
"School starts in five minutes… but so did the Battle of Delhi. I won that in four," he muttered, swinging a leg over his squeaky old bike.
The engine coughed. He kicked it. It coughed again.
"Don't betray me now, old friend!"
Scene: School Gate – 8:05 AM
The bell had already rung. Students marched in lines. The security guard smirked as Mr. Sato skidded in like a man chased by debt collectors.
"Late again, Sato-san?" the guard teased.
"Not late… strategically delayed. Builds stamina." He winked, jogging inside.
Scene: Staff Room
Teachers sipped tea, checked papers. Among them — Ms. Nandini Sharma, chemistry teacher, sharp as her glasses, sipping chai with elegance.
"Mr. Sato, your concept of punctuality…" she said without looking up, "…is fascinating."
He threw his bag on the chair like a warrior dropping his sword.
"Good morning, Ms. Sharma! Ever heard of Einstein's theory? Time is relative — and I am relatively on time."
A few teachers chuckled.
Nandini finally looked at him, unimpressed. "You should teach sprinting instead of mathematics."
"Lesson one," he said, saluting with a crooked tie, "always find the shortest path… even if it's over the principal's roses."
The staff room burst out laughing. Nandini didn't. She sipped her tea.
Bell rings. Classroom full of chatter — paper planes, half-eaten lunchboxes already open though it's morning. Door slides open with a loud bang.
Students (in unison, teasing)
"SENSEI'S LATE AGAIN!"
Sato (walking in with a piece of chalk like a samurai with a sword)
"Silence, my little monkeys. Or I'll give a surprise test worth 100 marks."
Class immediately goes quiet.
Student 1 (Ravi) (whispering)
"He's bluffing. He always says that."
Sato (suddenly pointing chalk at him)
"Ravi, page 42. Solve question 5. Right now."
Ravi freezes. The class erupts in laughter.
Sato (placing his bag down)
"Alright, alright. Today — algebra. The art of turning numbers into headaches."
Student 2 (Amit)
"Sensei, are you ever on time?"
Sato (writing on board)
"Time is an illusion, my boy. Only equations are eternal."
Students giggle. One throws a paper ball — he catches it without turning around.
Sato (holding the paper ball)
"And acceleration… is how fast I throw this back."
Whole class laughs louder.
Camera pans to a quiet girl near the window, tying her hair back — Aanya, a first-year student. She watches Sato with a small smile but keeps her head down when their eyes meet. She's been quieter than usual.
Sato (noticing but not pushing)
"Hm."
Bell rings for lunch break.
Sato
"Homework: Question 3 to 7. Anyone who doesn't do it… runs laps with me tomorrow."
Students (groaning)
"Sensei! You never run!"
Sato (grinning)
"Wanna bet?"
Scene: Staff room — lunch break. The room smells of samosas and tea. Teachers sit in clusters, tiffins open. Mr. Sato enters with a plastic bag holding a single banana and a packet of chips.
Nandini (raising an eyebrow)
"That's your lunch, Mr. Sato? Chips and a banana?"
Sato (placing the banana on the table like a trophy)
"Balanced diet. Potassium for the brain, chips for the soul."
Teachers chuckle.
History Teacher (Mr. Gupta)
"You're going to die before retirement at this rate."
Sato (biting the banana with dramatic slow motion)
"Life is about quality, not quantity, Mr. Gupta."
As the room fills with chatter, Ms. Nandini takes a sip of her tea, eyes glancing at the clock.
Nandini (calmly)
"You were late again this morning. Three times this week."
Sato (shrugs)
"Ah, but each time I came with a smile. Shouldn't that count as extra credit?"
Nandini
"You teach mathematics, not stand-up comedy."
Staff room laughs again; Sato winks at them as if scoring a point.
Suddenly, the intercom buzzes.
Receptionist (voice through speaker)
"Mr. Sato, Principal wants to see you in his office."
Sato (stuffing last chip in his mouth)
"Already? My record's improving. Usually, he calls me before lunch."
Teachers snicker as he stands, dusting his hands.
Scene: Principal's Office
Principal Sharma sits behind a desk stacked with files, glasses perched low on his nose. Sato strolls in like it's a café.
Principal Sharma(stern)
"Mr. Sato. Third time late this week. Do you think this is a circus?"
Sato (sits without permission)
"Not a circus, sir. More like a relay race. I'm just… late to the baton."
Principal Sharma (sighing, rubbing his temple)
"One more and I'll have to deduct from your pay."
Sato (smiling lazily)
"Deduct my pay? I'll still survive. My landlord likes me."
Principal groans. Cut to Sato leaving the office, completely unfazed.
School bell rings. Students pour out of the gates like a flood — chatter, bicycle bells, the smell of roadside snacks. The sun is setting; the streets are painted orange.
Among them — Aanya, bag over shoulder, walking quietly along the narrow lane beside the school. Her steps are quick, eyes down.
Man 1 (leaning against the wall, cigarette in mouth)
"Hey, girl. Going somewhere in a hurry?"
Four more men step out from behind a shuttered shop. Their clothes rough, hair messy — local street punks. They block her path, grins spreading.
Aanya (softly)
"Please… I need to go home."
Man 2 (circling her)
"Home can wait. Talk to us first."
He places a hand on her shoulder. She flinches. Another one leans close, his breath heavy with smoke.