The sun was shining brightly, yet a chilling wind flowed through the campus, the perfect blend of warmth and coolness that John found surprisingly soothing. He walked peacefully through the bustling campus, his eyes scanning the faces around him with quiet curiosity. Some students looked tense, others acted as though everything was normal, and a few wore expressions of excitement—today was the start of the academic year, a fresh beginning for all of them.
In this era, and in this society, core academic subjects were mostly taught online. It had become the norm to study from home, through virtual classrooms and interactive modules. However, the two-year academy that all students were required to attend was something different. It wasn't about academia, it was about life—about learning the things that couldn't be taught through a screen.
This course, mandated by the federal government, was a social skills program that everyone had to complete. No exceptions. Whether you were rich, poor, or somewhere in between, if you were a citizen of the Federation, you had to attend. The academic system had its grades, its degrees, and its specific universities, but those didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. What mattered was completing this mandatory course. It didn't matter which university you attended; after you graduated, you were treated equally, regardless of where you studied.
There were other universities, of course—specialized ones that focused on specific fields of study—but those weren't required. They were more for those who had already proven their capabilities in a given field and who had passed the entrance exams. These were the schools for the elites, where only those with the right skills and background could enter.
John, however, found the whole concept of the mandatory academy oddly fascinating. He wasn't sure why, but there was something about being surrounded by so many people, all here for the same reason, that made him feel strangely detached. He wasn't entirely sure where he fit in, but something told him that, just like everything else in his life, this too would be a strange, unpredictable journey.
As he continued his walk, he couldn't help but observe the students around him. His curious gaze flicked across their faces, reading their expressions. It wasn't that he was particularly interested in them, but he found it easy to tell what they were thinking just by looking at their faces. It was like reading an open book—each emotion, each thought, laid bare in the subtleties of their expressions. He loved the feeling of being able to understand others without needing to speak to them.
Pulling out his holo-com, John navigated his way toward his classroom, where the first day's session was about to begin. When he entered the room, he immediately noticed the bustling energy that filled the space. It was a sea of students, all wearing the same standard uniform as him, sitting, chatting, and preparing for the day ahead. John quietly made his way to an empty seat at the back of the classroom, observing the students around him as he settled in. A few students glanced up at him briefly, but most quickly returned to their conversations, as it was the first day for everyone, and no one was particularly focused on anything but themselves.
The hum of idle chatter filled the air, the sound of new beginnings and fresh faces. Time seemed to pass slowly, the clock ticking away as John zoned out, his mind drifting aimlessly.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and a figure entered the room—an enigma. She was a vision of subtle beauty, her light pink and blue hair flowing around her like a quiet storm, colors shifting like whispers of twilight. Her eyes were a deep blue, dark as midnight oceans, holding secrets that seemed to draw people in with an unspoken gravity. There was something haunting about her presence, fleeting yet unforgettable, like a dream that once experienced, you couldn't quite shake off.
John's gaze shifted toward her without much thought, but when she looked his way, he caught a flicker in her eyes. For a brief moment, their eyes locked, and though she didn't say a word, something seemed to stir inside her. She didn't know why, but there was an unfamiliar pull—a strange sense of recognition. This was the first time she had ever seen him, and yet, in that fleeting moment, she felt an odd sense of connection.
She quickly shook off the feeling and turned her attention back to the room. A few students, noticing her entrance, invited her to join their groups, but she ignored them all, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on an empty seat near John. Without hesitation, she made her way toward it, her steps graceful and purposeful.
John, still resting his head on his desk, hadn't noticed much at first. But as she settled into the seat beside him, he couldn't help but glance up. For a moment, his eyes lingered on her, but he quickly returned to his position, resting his head back on the table, already prepared to zone out again.
There was something intriguing about her presence, but it wasn't enough to make him want to engage. John was still adjusting to being around so many people, and the last thing he wanted was to be swept up in someone else's world. It was easier to observe and remain detached, to stay in his own little bubble, far from the chaos of the world.
The class eventually began, and John's attention drifted. The professor, a middle-aged man with a thick beard and an eccentric air about him, began to outline the day's activities—introductions, icebreakers, and an overview of the social skills they would be learning over the next two years. The lessons were meant to help students interact with one another, to become better communicators and collaborators.
John sat quietly, listening to the words, though his mind was elsewhere. He was used to being alone, to navigating life without much guidance. But here, in this room filled with strangers, he felt something different—something unfamiliar. Was this what it meant to be part of a society? To be surrounded by so many people, each with their own hidden thoughts, emotions, and desires