Monday morning arrived with the same energy as every other Monday in the architecture department — loud, slightly chaotic, and smelling strongly of coffee.

Aarohi dropped her bag onto the table and immediately lost two pencils.

Maya caught one mid-air. “You’re improving. Only two this time.”

“I’m evolving.”

Kabir looked over from the next table. “Your evolution still has graphite on its fingers.”

Aarohi held up her hands. “It’s proof of hard work.”

Neha placed a coffee cup in front of her. “Both hands. No sudden movements.”

“I make no sudden movements.”

“You tripped over a chair five minutes ago.”

“The chair was in the wrong place.”

The studio door opened.

Silence spread in a wave.

Arjun walked in, black shirt, sleeves rolled, tablet in one hand. He looked exactly as he always did — calm, composed, and completely unreadable.

He never looks tired, Aarohi thought. It’s suspicious. Normal people look tired on Mondays. He looks like Mondays are afraid of him.

Arjun set the tablet down.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, sir,” the class replied in uneven chorus.

Aarohi raised her coffee slightly. “Morning, Professor.”

Arjun’s eyes moved to her for half a second. “Miss Sharma. You’re six minutes late.”

“I was five minutes late when I entered the building. The last minute was spent finding a parking spot that didn’t require creative interpretation.”

“Park earlier.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“Consider it seriously.”

A few students smiled into their sketchbooks.

Arjun continued. “Today you begin the pair project. Sixty square metres. Family of five. Narrow urban plot. Constraints are on the board. You have three weeks. I will review progress every Thursday. Begin.”

He turned to write the constraints on the board in clean, precise handwriting.

Aarohi leaned toward Maya. “We’re going to destroy this project.”

Maya whispered back, “We’re going to complete this project. Nicely. Without arguments.”

“I don’t argue. I discuss passionately.”

“You argue.”

Kabir called from the next table, “If you two start fighting, I’m moving seats.”

Neha added, “I’ll help him move.”

Aarohi grinned. “Cowards.”

Arjun finished writing and turned around.

“Any questions before you start?”

Aarohi’s hand went up immediately.

“Yes, Miss Sharma.”

“If the plot is only seven metres wide, how do we fit proper ventilation for five people without turning the whole house into a corridor?”

“That is the problem you are meant to solve.”

“I’m asking for a hint.”

“Architects do not get hints. They get constraints.”

“That’s harsh.”

“That is reality.”

She opened her mouth again, then closed it when Maya stepped lightly on her foot.

Arjun’s gaze moved across the room. “Anyone else?”

No one spoke.

“Then begin.”

He started walking between the tables, stopping occasionally, saying very little.

Aarohi and Maya spread their sheets out.

Maya spoke first. “I think we should put the living area at the front for light.”

“I think we should put the kitchen at the front so the person cooking doesn’t feel trapped.”

“The living area needs the light more.”

“The person cooking needs the light more. They spend more hours there.”

Maya stared at her. “We’re already arguing.”

“We’re discussing.”

“You’re arguing.”

Arjun’s voice came from two tables away. “Miss Sharma. Miss Kapoor. Lower your voices or take the discussion outside.”

Aarohi turned. “We’re not loud.”

“You are audible from the other end of the room.”

“That’s because the room has good acoustics.”

A short silence.

Arjun looked at her. “Work quietly.”

“Yes, Professor.”

Maya waited until he moved away. “You’re going to get us both failed.”

“He likes honesty.”

“He likes quiet honesty.”

They worked for the next forty minutes with only occasional whispers.

Arjun eventually reached their table.

He stood behind them, looking at the rough plan.

“You have placed the staircase in the centre.”

Aarohi answered without turning. “It saves corridor space.”

“It also blocks natural light from reaching the rear rooms.”

“We can put a skylight.”

“Skylights are not free. And they leak if detailed badly.”

Maya spoke carefully. “We can shift the staircase to the side wall.”

Arjun nodded once. “Better. Do that.”

Aarohi turned in her chair. “What if we keep it central but make it open with perforated screens so light can pass?”

Arjun looked at her. “Show me.”

She pulled a fresh sheet and sketched quickly. “Like this. The screens give privacy but allow light and air. The staircase becomes a light well.”

He studied the sketch for several seconds.

She’s fast, he thought. And she doesn’t defend a bad idea just because it was hers. She defends it until a better one appears.

He spoke. “The idea has potential. But the screens must be detailed properly. If they are too closed, you lose the light. If they are too open, you lose privacy. Bring a 1:20 detail on Thursday.”

Aarohi smiled. “So you like it.”

“I said it has potential.”

“That’s the same thing.”

“It is not.”

“It’s close.”

Maya whispered, “Stop talking.”

Arjun moved to the next table.

Aarohi leaned back. “He almost smiled. Did you see?”

Maya shook her head. “He blinked. That’s not a smile.”

“It was a micro-smile.”

Kabir called over, “There is no such thing as a micro-smile.”

“There is now.”

The studio continued. Time moved slowly. Students argued in low voices. Someone’s model collapsed. Someone else spilled water and panicked.

Arjun remained calm through all of it.

Near the end of the session he returned to the front.

“Submit your current plans before you leave. I will mark comments tonight. Class dismissed.”

Students began packing up.

Aarohi stayed seated, adding a few more lines to the screen detail.

Maya waited. “You’re going to talk to him again, aren’t you?”

“I have a question about the screens.”

“You always have a question.”

“It’s a good question.”

Maya sighed. “I’ll wait outside.”

Aarohi walked up to the front table where Arjun was collecting sheets.

“Professor.”

He looked up. “Miss Sharma.”

“About the perforated screens.”

“Yes.”

“If we use metal, it might get too hot in summer. If we use wood, it might not last.”

“Then use a combination. Metal frame, wooden louvers with proper treatment. Or aluminium with thermal break. Research both and decide.”

“You always have an answer.”

“I have experience.”

She tilted her head. “Do you ever not know something?”

A short pause.

“Yes,” Arjun said. “But not about this.”

Aarohi almost laughed. “That was almost funny.”

“It was accurate.”

She placed her plan on the pile. “I’ll bring the detail on Thursday.”

“On time.”

“I’ll try.”

“Do better than try.”

She smiled. “You say that a lot.”

“It is often required.”

She turned to leave, then stopped.

“Professor?”

“Yes.”

“Do you ever get tired of students asking questions?”

Arjun closed the folder in his hands. “No. I get tired of students who stop asking.”

Aarohi looked at him for a second longer than necessary.

That almost sounded human, she thought.

She nodded once. “See you Thursday.”

“On time, Miss Sharma.”

“No promises.”

She walked out.

Maya was leaning against the wall outside.

“Well?”

“He answered my question.”

“And?”

“And he said something that almost sounded like a feeling.”

Maya raised an eyebrow. “Arjun Malhotra. A feeling.”

“I know. Shocking.”

Kabir and Neha joined them.

Kabir asked, “Are we still doomed?”

Aarohi adjusted her bag. “Completely. But the project is going to be good.”

Inside the empty studio, Arjun stood at the front table, looking at the sheet Aarohi had just submitted.

The perforated screen sketch was rough, but clear.

She thinks in solutions, he thought. Even when she is five minutes late and covered in graphite.

He closed the folder, turned off the lights, and left the room.

The corridor was already empty.

Only the faint smell of coffee and pencil shavings remained.