Chapter 7: My Soviet Academia

"Smile!"

Milena did as she was told next to the "Welcome New Students!" billboard in front of the entrance gateway. She should be smiling. Today was the opening ceremony for all new students, including herself, at one of the finest institutes of higher learning in the entire Soviet Union!

The Konstantin Eduardovich Tsiolkovsky Academy of Arts and Sciences consisted of both a high school and college. It was better known as KET Academy, famed even back in the Motherland as one of the best. Quite a few notable figures had graduated from there, including the current Minister of Energy.

She ran over to see if Grigori had gotten her good side; the uniform's trim certainly worked well with her figure. A Prussian Blue blazer with its silver piping and polished bronze buttons looked good on anyone. Not to mention the distinguished emblem of the Academy, gold thread and a real diamond; you certainly could not mistake it for anything else!

"Perfect, thank you very much!"

Her excellent photographer took a bow in her praise. There was still a little bit of time to kill before the opening ceremony. After the front entrance, the next shooting location was Khodorkovsky Athenaeum, an immaculate work of Neo-Classical Architecture, which had been moved brick by brick to Tereshkova, along with its exponential collection of materials. The building was locked, but Milena still was overjoyed at the thought of diving into its treasures.

Many students were heading to the Academy's theater; the duo deemed that their cue to do so as well. Statues of Ballerinas, Actors, and Musicians were arranged in neat rows on both sides of the tile walkway. Posters of past theatrical productions lined the interior; some plays were familiar, but most were too obscure even to a cultured Muscovite like Milena. Theater was a favorite recreation of hers; it was one of the few things that she and her mother had in common.

"Have you ever thought about performing?"

"Maybe, but the thing about speeches over acting is that you are supposed to have your script in front of you for reference. Forgetting a line could ruin everything in Theater!"

Settling into their seats, they both discussed what clubs or activities interested them. Grigori had been part of a local Basketball League and was considering continuing his involvement with the Youth Reserve Officer Training League. Milena thought more along the lines of a Literature or maybe a Gaming club, something fun and with little chance of making waves. When the question of the School Paper came up, Milena's response was an immediate "NO"; Rybak's shadow followed her like a phantom. The lights went off, and both turned their attention to the main stage.

To say the Academy Director's opening address was notable would be an exaggeration. The man driveled on about how lucky everyone was to be here, how great he was in his position as their benevolent overseer, and a bunch of nonsense that was clearly losing the audience. No one spoke, but even in the low light, you could make out heads slumped forward or back. The only good thing about this was that the seats were quite comfortable, and many took it as an opportune time to eat any snacks they had. Drool slid down Grigori's face, jolting him awake; the auditory agony was still going on, and Milena was out cold, snoring softly.

"Hey, Lena. You gotta wake up, or someone might notice." He debated whether or not to poke her; she could swing, and dodging would be next to impossible in the narrow row.

He took out a pen and had it do the dirty work. Her shoulder moved from the force, but she just mumbled in her sleep. The aroma from her hair was subtle and floral, but this was no time to ask about her shampoo! A rugged shake snapped her out of it; she realized what was happening and didn't swing, fortunately. She leaned in to whisper.

"Thanks."

A few seconds later, the stage was suddenly quiet. The speech seemed to be over, but no one was clapping. Then the applause began sporadically as those awake clapped to get the ball rolling. The Director, none the wiser, bowed with a prideful smile, unaware that his platitude ending was what was being celebrated.

With that, everyone was to go to their First Period Classes; for the two today, it would be Science. They had the exact schedule to make sure everything went without issue. It also meant that they could rely on one another as study partners. Despite special circumstances and scholarships, KET set academic expectations high for its students without exception.

Introductions went without a hitch. Grigori said he liked to cook, and Milena merely said she just "moved" to Tereshkova from Moscow. The next class was Modern Russian, then Mathematics, followed by Global History; they all went without any issues. Professor Belkovsky, the Mathematics teacher, had written books on his expertise and seemed to have taken a shine to Milena. Grigori struck up a conversation with Anton, a seat neighbor of his in Global, over a shared love of Crimson Steel Titan X after seeing a keychain of it on Anton's tablet. Milena had gotten plenty of attention for her striking looks and cosmopolitan nature. Aside from the myriad of questions on the grand capital, more than a handful of classmates thought she was a model; she looked famous. Her acting chops came into full view as she coolly played it off as "just a coincidence!"

Lunch came for the whole Academy at 12:30, and the duo decided to see how the cafeteria's food was. Mexican was the theme of the day, with burritos, chips, and tacos among other dishes. The indication of spice level was made clear, as neither of them could take heat well. Russians were a strong people able to endure great hardship, but spice broke them like glass.

Scanning for a spot, a table with only one occupant came into view. They approached and introduced themselves to that lad, a fellow named Piotr, who was reading Anna Karenina. He greeted them friendly enough, and being a fan of Tolstoy made breaking the ice a cinch. They sat and chatted well enough; Anton spotted them and joined as well. Good feelings all around.

Eventually, the period wound down to the last couple of minutes. Anton had Physical Education next, which was in a separate wing from their current one, so he needed to leave early. Piotr needed to make a quick phone call before classes, so he excused himself. Milena and Grigori's Study Hall was just the next floor up, needing only two minutes at best during the five-minute break.

Spending so much time together meant there were points where neither could think of anything to say, and this was one of them. Milena said she had to freshen up, walking into the hallway towards the restrooms.

Checking for any news worth reading was the best idea Grigori could think of. Boring stuff: exaggerated so-called articles on TV shows and video games, where the writers made up things for sensationalism. Just because some fans are vocal about their displeasure at a mangaka's story choices does not mean a series is "failing"! Any moron could make up this crap, but it took a numskull to believe it, even for a second.

Milena still wasn't back; she didn't seem to be in any distress or in need of assistance. No new messages had been sent to him either; she was far too diligent a student to have run off or the like. They would be seeing each other next period, too. He got up and went towards the same exit as she had.

Just as he reached the exit, something unusual came into view. In the distance, a group of onlookers was gathering. A sinking feeling pulled down on Grigori's stomach. It's her, oh I know it is... well, at least I got to finish my meal this time!