Structured Thinking

January 6, 2050. Thursday.

This morning came easier than yesterday. My shoulders still held some tension when I got out of bed, though less than they had earlier in the week. Unit had already finished charging. It projected today's timetable onto the side of its dock. I looked through it once while getting dressed, mostly to reassure myself that I hadn't forgotten anything. The uniform also felt more normal today. Yesterday I had been conscious of every part of it from the collar to the tie. Today I put everything on without thinking very much about it.

Mom and Dad, already working. Ah Gong wished me luck as he handed me a crisp 1000 YĐ on behalf of Dad. Ah Ma reminded me to eat properly. I told both of them I would.

Alex had somehow beaten me to the station. Shocker. He said his parents had started work earlier this morning too. He was already standing near our usual place on the platform, scrolling through something on his goggles while eating a bánh mì. Vivian arrived a minute or two later. Her orientation duties were finally over. She looked relieved to simply be another student again instead of directing everyone else where to go. Then again she chose that for herself. The ride felt easier than yesterday. Alex was back at his usual jumping between topics without warning. Teacher rumors. Club openings. Someone got lost yesterday despite every hallway having signs and volunteers. Genuinely how. Vivian corrected like two details but ignored the exaggerated parts.

Campus already felt different. Students weren't stopping in the middle of corridors to check maps anymore. Lockers stood open throughout every hallway. The teachers carried cups across the courtyards, followed by their bots. Clubs had started setting up recruitment displays outside their rooms. It finally felt like a school instead of a venue preparing for one.

I just walked into the room and found Alex already in the seat from yesterday, like one in from the aisle had been assigned to him, even though nothing still hadn’t actually been assigned yet. Mikey, already scrolling through something on his goggles. He looked up long enough to nod at me before going back to it. Benny, arms crossed, looking like he'd been there for an hour already even though we probably all arrived within a few minutes of each other. He glanced at me once. He quipped that I’m late. I said that the bell hasn't even rung and he still said “still late." I sat down without answering that.

Alex leaned back and said something about how he already missed the walk between buildings from yesterday, like standing still in one room all day was somehow a downgrade. Mikey said that was because Alex liked having reasons to talk to people he passed in the hallway. Alex didn't deny it.

First subject. Advanced Mathematics. Sir Zhou. I'd had him before, though only for a single term back in S2, and mostly seen him since as the department head shepherding assemblies rather than actually teaching. It was strange being back in a room where he was just a teacher again instead of standing at a podium reading off a list and coughing.

Before introducing anything, he wrote a single sentence across the board in his usual neat handwriting: "I don't teach mathematics. I teach structured thinking." That summarized the next hour better than anything else could have. He spoke calmly, explaining expectations more than content. Goggle calculators would be used when appropriate, though he made it clear he disliked students wearing one before they'd actually understood the problem.

Someone two seats over had already pulled theirs out before he'd finished the sentence. It went back into the bag without a word from him. He just looked at it, then at them, and kept talking. There wasn't anything intimidating about him. He didn't raise his voice once. But I noticed how straight everyone was sitting after around ten minutes. The period ended before anyone seemed to register how much time had passed.

Physics. I knew Sir Brar from, obviously, only having been my homeroom advisor last year. He walked in carrying several folders that immediately slipped out of alignment, set everything onto the desk, spent a few seconds reorganizing the pile without much urgency, looked up at us, then paused like he'd forgotten a step. "Right, I suppose introductions first." He then continued exactly where he'd already intended to start.

He wandered off from whatever he'd prepared the moment someone asked a real question, then found his way back to the syllabus before anyone actually got lost. That was the thing about him. Never dressed an answer up. Last year, when someone asked if failing one YGCE component meant repeating the whole year, he'd just told them exactly what the policy said and let them sit with it. I remembered being grateful for that, even at the time.

Near the end of the period someone asked whether there'd be many experiments this year. He looked up from the desk, looked like he'd been waiting for exactly that question and was pleased someone had finally gotten around to asking it. "Finally, someone asked the correct question." It was met with loud cheers.

Engineering Principles II. It felt familiar before it even began. Sir Tsang walked in, and there wasn't any of the adjustment that came with every other teacher earlier today. And of everyone on the timetable, he was the one I'd actually been looking forward to seeing. Working in railway engineering before he ever taught a class, he never bothered to pretend otherwise. Every explanation eventually circled back to something that had actually happened on a project somewhere in Yusong.

His opening line struck me. "Engineering is solving equations, and people." The lesson turned into something closer to a conversation after that. He'd brought along several worn mechanical components from old infrastructure projects, passing them around while explaining why each one had eventually failed or been replaced. Alex noticed how paid closer attention than anyone else in the room. He smiled at me for a second, after catching me holding one of the components a little longer.

Thermodynamics. Sir Boon. Before discussing anything else, he had everyone complete the laboratory agreement that would stay on file for the rest of the year. He read through the clauses out loud as if skipping even one of them would somehow invalidate the whole document. His shortest sentence: the most memorable. "Heat doesn't negotiate." That was met with silence. I'd heard about him for this subject long before today. Seniors from last year still talked about the fire extinguisher incident, though nobody could ever agree on what had actually caused it or whether Sir Boon had reacted by shouting or by going silent.

Design and Innovation came right after, and it was Sir Tsang again. Two subjects in one day felt almost unfair to whoever else was hoping to make a first impression. "I co-supervise this with Sir Zhou. No real lesson plan, fixed sit-down class. You work on your own time. We're just around whenever you actually need us." He said, before anyone could ask. This felt more relaxed than anything else so far. He spoke almost entirely about collaboration. That grades mattered. Finished projects mattered. Working alongside people with completely different personalities mattered just as much. Coming from him it didn't sound like encouragement so much as something he'd learned the hard way and was simply passing along.

Advanced Programming and Systems. Sir Vinky was new to me. When he arrived, he looked at the class for a moment, and said, "Your code is the only conversation you'll ever have with a stranger who already hates you. Don't make them work for it." Silence. Someone asked if we could use a certain shortcut library for assignments. He said no and didn’t elaborate. Somehow that was funnier than if he did. I decided I liked him almost instantly.

The remaining minor subjects passed through more quickly. Environmental and Biotech Systems. Ms Debbie. Soil regeneration worked its way into a sentence that had started out being about grading policy. She lost her attendance list mid-lecture, patted down her own desk twice, then found it sitting under the notebook she'd been writing on the entire time.

National Integrity and Defense. Sir Ân. I'd expected someone louder. Instead he moved through the approved syllabus in a flat, methodical voice. When a student asked why a particular historical account left out certain dates, he just asked what the student thought those dates would have changed if they'd been included. Nobody could tell if that counted as an answer, a warning, or an assignment.

Physical Health and Fitness. Sir Thắng ran it like he was still reading the Team Yusong roster. He had names memorized before attendance even finished, called out posture corrections mid-sentence without breaking stride, and made it clear early that talent meant nothing to him if you didn't show up and put in the work.

Applied Economics. Sir Frank. Came with an accent nobody expected and a whiteboard marker jabbing it at the air to make a point before he'd even written anything down. Within minutes he had the class laughing after pointing out that everything eventually came back to economics, including the tuition Saint Titus charged in the first place.

By lunchtime the building had finally settled into something that resembled an ordinary school day. The corridors were louder than they had been yesterday. People already knew where they were supposed to be, which meant they spent less time looking around and more time talking. Everyone had already started ranking subjects despite none of us having actually learned anything yet.

Mikey looked between the four of us for a second. "Lunch?" The cafeteria was predictably busy. Every other S12 section seemed to arrive within the same ten-minute window. Alex somehow spotted an empty table before anyone else and immediately claimed it while Benny complained that people walked too slowly whenever food was involved.

Conversation naturally drifted back toward the morning. Alex declared Sir Tsang his favorite before he'd even finished eating, then immediately remembered Sir Tsang had taught us twice today and shrugged like that only proved his point. Mikey wasn't convinced. He brought up Sir Brar instead, insisting there was something to respect about a teacher who just tells the answers directly, even if it’s uncomfortable.

"He answered questions before anyone even finished asking them," Mikey said. Alex blinked. "How do you even notice that." "You didn't?" "I was trying to stay awake."

Benny looked up from his food just long enough to ask if Alex had actually been awake at any point that morning. Alex ignored him completely and went back to arguing his case for Sir Tsang, something about the way he'd talked about failure like it was interesting instead of embarrassing.

From there the conversation kept drifting between teachers. Everyone agreed Sir Boon had somehow turned a laboratory safety briefing into something resembling a military address. Benny was convinced the man smiled once every leap year at most. Alex swore he'd definitely seen it happen once, though nobody believed him, least of all Mikey, who pointed out that Alex also claimed to have seen a UFO in S10.

Applied Economics came up more than I expected. Apparently half the class had laughed at Sir Frank's opening remarks even though everyone could tell the material had been used before, probably every year, probably word for word. "It was still funny," Alex said. "It was predictable," Mikey said. "You predicted it?" "No." "Then it wasn't predictable." Mikey looked at him for a second, and decided it wasn't worth the follow-up.

I mostly listened through all of it. Alex filled space as always. Mikey said less, but when he did it was usually something the rest of us had missed entirely, that Sir Brar never once glanced at the attendance list while calling out names, or that Sir Vinky had spent almost the whole period watching the room instead of the slides behind him. Nobody else had caught either. Benny, for his part, just refused to pretend people were nicer than they actually were.

From there the conversation drifted toward our own section. Opinions were already forming despite us having known most of these people for less than two days. Mikey mentioned that Ashley seemed enthusiastic about every single subject, Benny pointed out there was a difference between enthusiasm and wanting teachers to remember your name. Alex, somehow, had already memorized nearly everyone's name, and made a point of proving it by narrating the cafeteria like a commentator.

"Houston." He pointed. "That's Didi. I think Jovan plays football." Then, squinting toward the far end, "I swear Bobby hasn't said a single word since yesterday." "He answered during Engineering," Mikey said, and then they went back and forth on if it counted.

Then, seating. That a few had apparently lucked into good spots without even trying, and Alex declared, with total conviction, that every good class eventually produced one objectively correct seat that became legendary. Mikey disagreed and started breaking the room down like an engineering problem: front row, i.e. us, for easier communication with the teacher, back row for fewer interruptions, middle for balance, windows fine until the afternoon sun came in and ruined everything, and anywhere near the door meant getting stared at every time someone walked in late.

Benny dismissed the entire theory. "The best seat is whichever one doesn't have someone annoying sitting next to you." Immediate pushback from Alex who insisted proximity to a charging outlet mattered more than anything else, Mikey brought the AC into it like it was a serious variable, and I pointed out that our projector sat slightly left of center, which made maybe a couple of seats genuinely bad for anyone trying to read the board during presentations. Somehow we spent almost ten minutes on this with complete seriousness.

It probably said something about all of us that nobody found the conversation strange. But eventually, Benny leaned back in his chair and looked around at us. "What are we, some kind of chair enthusiasts?" Brief pause. Alex slowly turned toward him with a grin that appeared almost immediately. "Say that again." Benny frowned. "What?" "Say it again." "...Chair enthusiasts?" Alex was already reaching for his device. "No way. That's perfect. Our group chat." We didn't even have one. We do now. Less than a minute later, all four of our devices buzzed at once. Chair Enthusiasts. Benny stared at his screen like it had personally betrayed him. Mikey didn't even look up from his food. Alex laughed hysterically.

After lunch, my next stop was parliament. Most returning members had already scattered themselves around. A few newer faces from last year's recruitment cycle had also shown up, comfortable enough now that they didn't look like newcomers anymore. Someone had already started rearranging the tables into the government and opposition benches.

Eason was already in the Speaker's chair for what I guessed was the first time as anything other than a regular member. He sat up very straight, cleared his throat, and said, quietly, almost testing the shape of the word in his mouth: "Order." Then, louder, like he was trying it on for size: "ORDER!" He caught me watching and didn't look embarrassed about it at all. "Getting a feel for it. Figured I should know what my voice sounds like before I actually need it." I said that he’s spoken in the chamber before hasn’t he. "As a member. Different thing entirely. Nobody's ever had to make me shut up before. Now I'm the one doing the shutting up."

Vivian was already deep in conversation with one of the returning members, going over something on her device. She looked up when I came closer. "We need at least thirty solid recruits before next week. More if we want a proper backbench." "How many signed up today?" "Six interested. Realistically, three of them will actually show." Sounded about right. We split that down the middle without much discussion. She'd take the ones leaning toward the government, I'd take opposition, and whoever showed genuine interest in crossbench would go to Eason, assuming Eason remembered he was supposed to be recruiting crossbenchers and not just testing his own volume.

Because someone had propped the door open with a chair, Ms. Quyên walked in without anyone quite noticing until she'd already dropped her bag on the front desk. "Don't let me interrupt whatever this is," she said, glancing at Eason mid-"ORDER." "Carry on. I'll just be over here." Eason cleared his throat and sat back down like he hadn't been standing. Eric showed up while Viv and I were still splitting the list. He started stacking the loose chairs against the wall that nobody had asked him to. I said that he didn't have to do that. "I know." He kept doing it anyway.

I'd been half-watching him do things like that since he joined last year. Small things offered before anyone thought to ask for it. He'd picked opposition without hesitation, which I hadn't fully processed as a compliment until much later. He still argued like someone bracing for correction, but the shape of a real debater was in there. I'd noticed it early. I still hadn't told him.

"A girl signed up for opposition," he said, nodding at one of the sheets. "First time doing anything like this. Looked terrified handing over her name." "And?" "Told her terrified was a fine place to start. Everyone here started there." He said it plainly, like it wasn't anything. Viv caught my eye across the table.

Ms. Quyên finally looked up from whatever she'd been reading on her device. "So. Recruitment's looking decent. Anyone actually confirmed for opening day, or are we still hoping people show up out of guilt?" Viv mentioned that Eason found someone willing to play Black Rod. "Very committed." Ms. Quyên didn't look up again. "Speeches. That's the only thing that matters this week. It's a reenactment, so nobody needs to have a killer rebuttal ready for a ceremony. I just need whoever's speaking to not read off their device in front of half the school." Viv and I said we both already have our opening speeches down. "Good. Practice it out loud at least once before next week. Not in your head. It sounds different out loud." She said this like she'd said it every year, because she does, to every bloc leader. “That's all. Go home and rest."

Next stop. Newspaper. Even after a break, the room still smells faintly of paper. Ky was already there, half-crouched under a table, wrestling a box of sheets that had apparently exploded across the floor. "Don't help. I have a system." Didn't look like it. "It's an evolving system." She surfaced eventually, sheets more or less gathered, hair slightly disheveled, grinning like the whole thing had been intentional.

"Head of radio," she said, straightening up and offering an exaggerated little bow. "Has a ring to it." I said it feels premature. "Feels earned." She paused, studying me for a second too long. "You look tired. Did something happen over break, or are you just naturally like this now." I'm always like this. "Tragic." She said it like she didn't believe me.

The other department heads filtered in shortly afterward. News. Sports. Then Sir Ed. He didn't call the room to order so much as Ms Quyen. "Right. Positions are confirmed, which some of you already know, and some of you clearly haven't processed yet." He looked briefly at Ky's box of sheets. "You'll manage."

He said the thing: "Write whatever you want. It has to be true. It has to be fair. And it has to be written well. In that order, most days." It was something of a motto among us.

The actual meeting was short. Recruitment booth at tomorrow's activities fair. Who's covering which shift. A sign-up process for new applicants, portfolio samples due before interviews, interview slots to be scheduled once the sign-up window closed. Sir Ed reminded us that real assignments wouldn't begin until the following week, once new members had actually joined and rosters were settled.

Ky volunteered us both for the shift without asking. I didn't agree to that. "You will." I said that I might have parliament stuff. "You don't have parliament stuff tomorrow." I didn't, and she knew it, and that was somehow more annoying than if she'd guessed wrong.

We split the interview slots between the four of us, argued briefly over who reviewed which portfolios, and Ky insisted on being the one to design the sign-up sheet properly this time, since apparently last year's version had, in her words, "aesthetically failed the department." By the time the meeting ended, we'd agreed on almost nothing beyond Wednesday. "See you Wednesday, then," Ky said, already halfway out the door, box under one arm.

Before heading anywhere, I spent a few minutes clearing the notifications that had built up on the student portal throughout the day. Most of it was administrative. Saint Titus seemed physically incapable of leaving a portal page empty. One section near the bottom was labelled “Industry Partnerships”. I opened it out of curiosity. The school had already uploaded this year's internship listings. Dozens of them. Saint Titus liked advertising how closely it worked with industry, even this early. Parents probably appreciated the logos.

I skimmed most of them without slowing down. Then I reached Daoyen Metro Rail Corporation, and stayed there. It looked exactly how I imagined it would: structurally competitive. I opened the description anyway. Photos from previous students. I knew enough about each company department to know which ones I'd actually want.

Alex went to the newspaper room to check up on me. He glanced at my screen for half a second. "Anything interesting?" I closed the page almost automatically. "Just looking around." He nodded, already halfway into another conversation before he'd even reached the corridor. A few seconds later I opened it again. But it’s not like I wasn't hiding it. I’m just not ready to explain why it mattered. I wasn't sure I could explain it properly myself. People always assumed I liked trains. That’s true. What they didn't always understand was that I liked everything behind them too. The planning, the maintenance schedules, the signalling, the decisions that kept a whole network running without anyone riding it ever noticing. I bookmarked the listing. Applications weren't open yet, obviously. There wasn't anything else to do.

We walked out together, and Vivian caught up with us near the station entrance, looking like she'd already planned the next month. "Party's not going to leave you any free time this year, is it?" Alex said. She sighed instead of answering directly, which was answer enough.

Before entering the station, we stopped at a LifeStop beside the concourse. Alex bought iced coffee and a microwaveable meal box. Vivian picked up bottled tea and a pack of highlighters, having already misplaced one after a single day. I grabbed an iced tea, a boneless fried chicken, and an onigiri. The cashier said we'd been the fourth group from STC in the past twenty minutes.

The same train line as this morning was fuller now. Office workers. Students from other schools. Someone who had just gotten on had already fallen asleep before the train reached the next station. A few younger kids were still comparing orientation booklets. Outside, the glass towers caught the last sunlight before turning into reflections instead of buildings.

Nobody talked for a while. But eventually Alex started ranking today's teachers from "most terrifying" to "most likely to accidentally forget there was homework." Vivian objected to almost every placement. I mostly listened. But that was when it hit. Sharp and sudden along my left side. I nearly lost my grip on the handrail. I must have made some kind of face, or gone quiet at the wrong moment, because Alex noticed immediately. "You good?" "Yeah." "You didn't look yeah." Vivian was watching me too now. Something flickering across her expression before she caught it and smoothed it back down. I couldn't place it and didn't have room to think about it, not with the pain still sitting there, dull now instead of sharp. "Ugh. Yeah, I'm fine," I said, straightening up like that would prove it. Neither of them looked convinced, but didn’t push either. Alex went back to his rankings a while after, quieter than before.

We got off at our station. Alex heading for his bus said "See you tomorrow. Try not to collapse before then." "No promises." Vivian and I walked the rest of the way together as always. The pain had mostly faded by the time we reached the lobby. Mostly. Enough that I didn't bring it up again, and she didn't ask.

Mom and Dad still weren't home when I unlocked the door. That wasn't surprising. Ah Gong and Ah Ma were in the living room watching one of their evening television dramas as usual. The volume was just loud enough that they didn't hear me come in immediately. When they finally noticed me, Ah Gong looked over and smiled. "How was school today, ah boy?" We talked while dinner was warming up. Mostly on the day that I’ve had. Then they started telling me about their own day.

Apparently they'd gone to the Daoyen Turf Club. It started because Ah Gong wanted to try placing a small bet "just once." Somehow that became a guided tour. Then that became meeting one of the trainers. Then, according to Ah Ma, somebody asked whether he wanted to try riding one of the retired demonstration horses. He said yes immediately. According to Ah Ma, the entire experience lasted less than two minutes. She also said that halfway around the practice track Ah Gong started yelling, "WAH! WE ARE GOING SO FAST!" Loud enough that everyone nearby turned around. She laughed so hard telling the story that she nearly spilled her soup. They really do everything. That's my Ah Gong and Ah Ma.

Dinner passed quietly after that. The television drama continued in the background while we ate. Neither of them spoiled because apparently they'd missed yesterday's episodes too. I helped clear the table before going back to my room.

There were only a few new messages waiting. Ky confirmed that newspaper recruitment materials would be finalized tomorrow. Eric, with the same for our parliament. Emi, that she can’t wait to meet up tomorrow. There was also an automated notification from the internship portal. Applications would officially open later this month. I opened the railway listing again. Everything looked exactly the same. I still wasn't ready to submit anything. There wasn't any reason to rush. I stayed on the page for another minute before locking my device.

School had finally started properly. For the first time since the new year began, the next few months actually felt close enough to imagine.