Chapter 1: First Day, First Problem
Chapter 1: First Day, First Problem
The school gate of St. Jude’s High stood wide open, a rusting iron mouth swallowing five hundred teenagers who would rather be anywhere else. The air inside smelled of floor wax, cheap deodorant, and the collective anxiety of a Monday morning that had overstayed its welcome.
For Arnav… it was supposed to be a ghost mission.
In. Out. No footprints. No names.
"Just let me get through today in peace... please, God. I’ll actually make an offering at the temple."
He adjusted the strap of his black backpack, pulling it tight. He didn't want friends; friends led to plans, and plans led to the kind of trouble he was trying to outrun. He just wanted a bench, a notebook, and a quiet exit.
He stepped onto the porch, his sneakers squeaking against the polished tiles like a nervous mouse. He was five minutes early—perfect for disappearing into the crowd.
And then—the sound of a mess in progress.
Near the lockers, three seniors were treating a younger student like a human fidget spinner. The leader, a tall guy whose tie was loose enough to be a scarf, was tossing the kid's glasses to his sidekick, Golu.
Golu had a wheezing laugh that sounded like a pressure cooker about to blow. "Look at this, fresh meat! Mommy even ironed his uniform for him!"
The third guy, Vikram, was aggressively chewing gum and staring at the CCTV camera as if trying to hack it with his mind.
Arnav’s knuckles itched. He felt the familiar heat rising in his chest.
He paused.
Then, he forced his eyes toward the ceiling, taking a slow breath.
"Not my problem. I am a tree. Trees don't fight. Trees just... grow."
He started walking.
“Hey, you new? Yo, Mr. Fresher! Get over here.”
Arnav ignored it, staring straight ahead. I am a tree. Trees are deaf.
One step. Two steps.
A heavy, sweaty hand yanked Arnav’s collar from behind, nearly giving him whiplash.
“Are you deaf? Got cotton stuffed in your ears?” the leader sneered, leaning in close.
Arnav stopped. He closed his eyes, the hallway noise fading into the background for a split second.
"God, cancel the temple offering. Looks like violence is the only option left."
He didn’t struggle. He just grabbed the senior’s wrist, steady as someone who’d done this a hundred times, and peeled the hand off his shirt like it was a piece of unwanted tape.
“You’re going to get your hands dirty,” Arnav said, his voice completely flat. “Let go.”
A few steps away, three boys provided the live commentary.
“Dude, just let it be… why do we need to get involved?” Piyush whispered, his knees shaking more than his voice.
“Hold on, look… it’s the first day, this is free entertainment!” Monty countered, nudging him and leaning forward like he was at a stadium match.
Kabir, the third one, just checked his watch and sighed. He stepped forward with the confidence of someone who owned the floor tiles. “Is this your daily routine? Don’t ruin our morning,” Kabir said, looking thoroughly bored. He pointed a finger at the leader. “And you… does your dad know you’re trying out for the WWE here?”
The distraction worked. The younger student slipped under an arm and vanished like a ninja.
The leader turned his rage back to Arnav, his face turning a blotchy red. He felt small because his hand had been brushed off so easily. He lunged forward and gave Arnav a hard shove.
Arnav stumbled back a step. The "peace" he had spent all morning building finally snapped.
“Just drop it, man…” Arnav said. His voice dropped an octave. It wasn't a request anymore; it was a final warning.
They didn’t listen. The senior swung a wild, clumsy punch toward Arnav’s face.
Something in Arnav switched. He didn't flinch. He moved.
He caught the incoming hand with his left, twisted the first wrist with his right, and stepped directly into the bully's personal space.
“You— you think you're a—” the senior stammered, his eyes widening.
Arnav looked him dead in the eye, perfectly calm. “…You’re your mother’s son.”
The bully blinked, his brain failing to process the logic. “…What?”
THAAP!
A clean, ringing slap echoed through the corridor. It was the kind of sound that made everyone in a fifty-meter radius stop breathing.
Silence.
A red handprint bloomed on the bully’s cheek. Arnav didn't say another word. He just stepped back, exhaled, and casually adjusted his bag strap as if he had just swatted a fly.
Kabir’s smirk widened. “...Oh, interesting.”
“Bro, he’s actually dangerous!” Monty cheered, pumping a fist in the air.
“We’re all going to die…” Piyush moaned, burying his face in his hands.
“HEY! WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!”
The group froze. They turned to see Mr. Khanna, the discipline in-charge, marching toward them with a dark scowl. They started the long walk toward the office, hearts pounding, knowing Mr. Khanna didn’t smile for anyone.
🚶♂️ Teacher’s Office
The office smelled of old tea and reprimands. Arnav stood quietly near a filing cabinet while a ceiling fan wobbled dangerously overhead.
“Name?” Khanna barked, slamming a ledger down.
“Arnav.”
“Arnav... First day.” Khanna leaned over his desk, his shadow looming large over them. “Son, this is St. Jude’s School, not a WWE trial ground for you to kick off the 'Main Event' the moment you arrive. Do this again, and you're straight out.”
“And what a main event it was, sir… what an entry!” Monty interjected, grinning like a proud coach.
“MONTY! One more word, and I will print your suspension letter right now,” Khanna snapped, pointing a trembling finger at him.
“Sir, please… don’t tell my mom…” Piyush pleaded, crossing his hands in a desperate prayer.
The teacher sighed, looking at the senior's reddening cheek and then at Arnav's completely calm face. He rubbed his temples. “It’s your first day… so I’m letting it go. Get out!”
🏫 Classroom
The news had already reached the classroom through the school's invisible network. As the four of them walked in, the usual chatter died down instantly, heads turning toward them.
“Bro, honestly? Killer start.” Monty gave Arnav a thumbs-up as they reached the back row.
“Killer? I almost had a heart attack.” Piyush pressed a hand to his chest, still breathing heavily.
Kabir leaned back in his seat, feet hooking the chair ahead of him. “Looking at you two, survival seems optional.”
Miss D’Souza walked in a moment later, scanning the room with a sharp gaze. “Good morning class. We have a new student. Arnav, come in.”
Arnav stepped forward. He looked so neutral, so quiet, that the class found it hard to believe he was the "Slayer of Seniors."
Monty froze, his eyes darting between the door and the desk. “Wait… he’s—”
Piyush slumped in his chair. > "He ended up here too…"
“Arnav, go sit near the window,” Miss D’Souza directed, pointing to an open desk.
Arnav sat down, staring out at the dust motes dancing in the sunlight. He took a long, slow breath, trying to reset his internal clock.
"Let's see what happens next… Honestly, the less that happens, the better."
“Nikhil.” A sharp-looking boy in the front row stood up. “Help Arnav out with the notes.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Nikhil said, turning his head to glance back at Arnav with a look that was part-curiosity, part-calculation.
TRRRRNNGGG!
The bell rang. The teacher left, and the classroom instantly erupted into noise. Monty and Piyush bolted over to Arnav’s desk.
“BRO! What a slap!” Monty slammed a hand on the desk, grinning widely. “I’m Monty, and this crybaby is Piyush.”
“I’m just here to study,” Arnav said, keeping his eyes fixed on his blank notebook.
“Yeah, you'll study… and we can have a little action on the side too.” Monty grinned, nudging Piyush.
“I don’t want any action.”
“It’ll find you.” Kabir leaned against the adjacent desk, casually twirling a pen between his fingers. “In this school, action has a way of tracking you down.”
Nikhil walked over, sliding into a seat in front of them and leaning back against the edge of the desk. “Come on, let’s hit the canteen. I’ll give you the rundown.”
Monty leaned over and whispered to Piyush, pointing a thumb at Arnav. > "Dude, he's totally stuck with us now."
Piyush gave a miserable nod. > "Yeah… and we're stuck with him."
Arnav closed his eyes for a moment. He had come here for peace, but the air in the room felt heavy with the promise of more trouble.
"First day..."
He looked at the four misfits already claiming him as their own, a faint sigh escaping his lips.
"...and I've already got more problems than attendance."
