The magnificent atmosphere of Apexia made its weight felt even among the massive columns of the Minerva Institute. Coming to this city wasn't just a change of location for me; it was the beginning of a new life. It was precisely a ninety-minute journey to get here. The daily ordeal I endured seemed like a small price to pay for standing among these colossal buildings, surrounded by history and science.
"Yes, Octavian," I murmured, "this is your new chapter. The old me, that angry kid who built walls around himself, who only knew how to fight with other guys, died here. Now I'm someone new."
This new me had spent an entire year learning to understand people. Getting accepted into Minerva's preparatory program after finishing high school allowed me to learn a language. It also allowed me to observe, understand, and even predict people, especially women, for a whole year.
Day and night, I read about horoscopes, personality tests, and ancient Valerian palm-reading texts. I had one goal: this time, I would build normal, genuine friendships not just with men but with women as well. I would break free from my old self, who barely understood the fine line between friendship and flirtation.
Now I knew everything. At least, that's what I thought.
I took a deep breath to shake off the fatigue from the journey. The clean, fresh air of the campus filled my lungs. The wind rustled through the magnificent trees around me, making their leaves dance. This place was meticulously planned in every detail, just like Apexia itself.
As I approached the entrance to the department building, my heart began racing. Through the glass doors, I could see a group of young people chatting among themselves. Several girls were among them. One with hair that sparkled in the sunlight was smiling. The radiance on her face was much more than just statistical data.
Suddenly, I felt a surge of excitement. I hope I become friends with all of them, I thought. I was ready to keep the promise I'd made to myself.
I stepped into the entrance hall. An old Imperial emblem hung from the ceiling. The corridors were filled with whispers, laughter, and the excitement of new beginnings. I looked for the sign with my program name: "Computational Statistics." I checked the classroom name written below the sign: "Senatus Minoris." Such a cool name.
The following line showed the class time and classroom number—9:00 AM and... 3.
Classroom 3.
I walked down the corridor, passing Classroom 1 and Classroom 2. Then the corridor turned, passing Classroom 4 and Classroom 5. But there was no 3. I went back and looked again, checking the building's floor plan. Nothing. Classroom 3 was missing. It was like some joke.
I began to panic. I decided not to ask anyone to avoid looking stupid. My "new me" image couldn't be tarnished by such a simple mistake—not on the first day, at least. I went to the end of the corridor, climbed the stairs, went up one floor, came back down... I was searching for three everywhere. My heart was pounding like a drum, keeping time with my steps.
Just then, an older woman with a face brightened by a warm smile came down the stairs. She saw me looking around frantically and stopped. I didn't know what to do. Embarrassed, I approached her and smiled with my most sincere tone.
"Professor, hello... Um, I was looking for my classroom. The class... Where was your class, by any chance? I couldn't find Classroom 3."
The woman smiled. "Come here, young man," she said. Her voice was like a warm breeze. "I'm that 'professor.' There's no such thing as Classroom 3. The architecture of our old buildings is a bit confusing. Our class has moved to 'Classroom C,' a small annex of Senatus Minoris. It's right behind the stairs. You must have been too embarrassed to ask anyone."
My face turned bright red. Even before entering class, I had made a fool of myself on my first day.
The woman laughed and said, "Every newcomer makes the same mistake. Don't worry," and directed me in the right direction. As we walked, I thought to myself, I started my new life by making a fool of myself from the first minute. Bravo, Octavian, brilliant.
At that moment, I realized how inadequate my year of social preparation was against the complex human relationships of real life.
When we reached the classroom door, the professor stopped. Before going inside, she turned to me. "What was your name?" she asked, her voice gentle.
"Octavian," I said, with some hesitation. "Octavian Corvus."
Saying my father's surname always placed a weight on my shoulders. For my father, this surname meant honor; for me, it was an expectation.
The woman smiled. "Professor Livia Valeria. Nice to meet you, Octavian. Don't stay alone in class. If you have any problems, don't hesitate to ask me. You shouldn't be shy."
"Thank you, Professor Livia," I replied. But I thought I wouldn't have embarrassed myself this much if I weren't shy.
I noticed the curious glances of other students in the corridor watching us. A male student is entering the class with the female professor. This would make me special in everyone's eyes on the first day of school, but it would also lead to misunderstandings. I needed to somehow recover from this situation. Otherwise, my new life would become a copy of my old one.
When we entered through the door, all the students inside fell silent. Professor Livia walked to the podium with a smile.
"Good morning, children," she said. "I'm Professor Livia Valeria. I'm the instructor for this course. On the first day of our new program, I know you all have bright plans for the future. But first, I'd like to get to know you better. Everyone should briefly introduce themselves. Let's start with Octavian, the first student I met."
Octavian. All eyes were suddenly on me. As anxiety coursed through my veins, I couldn't let that shyness take over. I stood up, straightened my shoulders, and introduced myself with the most sincere expression.
"My name is Octavian Corvus. I come from Apexia. I'm nineteen years old. I'm a graduate of Minerva High School, and it's a great honor to be here with you."
Just as I was about to sit down after finishing my introduction, Professor Livia stopped me. "Well, Octavian," she said, her voice both curious and encouraging. "Could you also tell us why you chose this department?"
This was an unexpected question. The answers I'd been preparing for years came to mind. But this time I wanted to be sincere.
"Since childhood, I've always wondered about the causes of events and their consequences," I began. "I chose this department thinking it would allow me to predict and intervene." I paused. The shyness inside me was returning. "And also..." I added, "I have another reason."
Professor Livia smiled. "What is it? Don't be shy."
"Actually, I feel bad saying this, but... Alaric Hektor Abel is my great uncle," I said. "Since childhood, I've hoped to become like him."
A wave of whispers spread through the classroom. There was admiration in most students' eyes, jealousy in some others. Professor Livia's eyes also lit up.
"Alaric Abel... What a great honor," she said. "I had the chance to meet him at a conference. Tell him 'the professor who dropped her cane, ' if you see him,' and he'll remember me."
A small storm of laughter erupted in the classroom. The professor's joke had somewhat dissipated the tension in me. But at that moment, I only felt shame. I had drawn attention by using my uncle's name.
Now I'm finished, I thought. Everyone will see me as my uncle's nephew now. They'll think I'm influential. But I only hoped to be myself and not fight with anyone this time. I messed up from the first minute.
I sat down with shame on my face. Class had begun. While people were introducing themselves, I looked around. Smiling faces on one side, stern faces on the other... I was trying to understand who was who, unable to control my categorizing instinct.
I reached for the water bottle on the table to reduce my stress. When I picked it up, I didn't notice that the cap wasn't properly secured. When I lifted the bottle, water trickled from the edge of the cap onto my neck and shirt. Embarrassed, I put the bottle back on the table and looked around. Everyone's eyes were on me.
Sitting next to me was a girl with her hair in a tight bun, wearing glasses, who looked studious. She wasn't even looking at me. She was scribbling something in the notebook in front of her. Just when I was falling into despair, she extended her hand. In it was a tissue she handed to me without speaking.
Embarrassed, I took the tissue with my trembling fingers. "Thank you," I whispered.
Without turning to me, she said, "It's nothing." Her voice was cold but well-intentioned.
There's no such thing as first-day luck, I thought as I wiped my shirt.
When Professor Livia finished everyone's introductions, she turned from the podium to the blackboard. "All right, children," she said, her voice becoming serious. "Let's move on to our first question. I know what your expectations are for this semester. But remember that answering a question correctly doesn't meet expectations. Sometimes we need to approach the question itself from a different angle."
She paused for a moment. "Let Octavian solve our first question, too."
All eyes turned to me again. I think I'm finished, I thought to myself. Professor Livia is putting me forward in everything. This must be punishment for mentioning my uncle's name. I was trembling with nervousness.
I went to the blackboard. The question seemed like a simple probability problem at first glance. A dice roll... The probability of getting four on a hexagonal die... But in the year I spent thinking Am I stupid?, I had learned not to look at the ordinary. I approached it from a different perspective.
"If we're calculating the probability of a situation, we should consider all other possibilities too," I said. "A die made from different materials could have a different center of gravity, which could change the probabilities. Evaluating every situation under the same conditions might not lead us to the correct result."
Everyone in the class fell into silence for a moment. That's when I understood why I had read all those strange books and personality analyses. Solving a problem meant considering not just what was visible, but also what was invisible. I successfully solved the question and put the chalk back on the desk.
Professor Livia smiled with pride. "You can really tell your uncle, Octavian, inspires you. You have a very different perspective. There are very few people who think like you in this institute."
I turned to the class's gaze. Faces looking at me with admiration saw me as "Octavian" for the first time. Even the studious girl who hadn't looked at my face when I spilled water and embarrassed myself was now turned toward me, watching me with a slight smile.
This was a victory.