January 3, 2050. Monday.
Woke up the same way again. Clean snap. My eyes opened and that was it. It felt different from yesterday, though. Empty. Whatever that dream was from the night before didn't come back. My body still kept the score. Shoulders tight and back stiff when I shifted upright. It's consistent enough now that it doesn't feel like a reaction anymore. My body's already counting down to school even if I'm not doing it consciously.
The world didn't give me much time to sit with it. The sound came in faster than the last two mornings, and sharper. You can tell when it's younger without needing to look. Plastic wheels scraping along pavement in uneven rhythms. Shoes scuffing more than stepping. Voices trying to bargain their way out of something they already know is happening. Every now and then, a whistle cut through all of it from crossing guards.
I stayed in bed a bit longer. Eventually I sat up and looked toward my desk. Unit was docked properly. It looked exactly the way it's supposed to look when nothing is happening. Part of me expected it to move anyway.
Ah Gong and Ah Ma were in the kitchen. Parents already at work as always. Tea already steeping. TV on RTV-3 at low volume, just enough to fill the space between sounds. They greeted me like it was any other morning. I sat down and ate without thinking too much about it. The conversation stayed where it usually does with them. Traffic. How the first few days of primary reopening always throw everything off. Ah Gong mentioned how kids carry more now than he ever did, and not just in terms of books. Ah Ma added something about how they all look smaller under the weight of it. Neither of them brought up school directly. Not my year or upcoming schedule, not anything that would pull the focus forward.
There was a brief moment where Ah Ma insisted I take another slice of ube toast. I said I was fine. She said I wasn't eating enough. It went back and forth once, maybe twice, before it dissolved into a laugh.
I checked my device after that. Notifications had already stacked up. STC feeds were at the top. Same formatting as always. Reminders about traffic advisories, orientation procedures, and emergency contacts. Everything is already accounted for. All you have to do is follow.
Vivian's messages came in just under that. She was already at campus, helping with orientation for the primary school kids. Escorting them from the gates, making sure no one got lost in the first-day layout. Of course, that's the kind of thing she signs up for. Then she added more. Not all for today. Some for tomorrow, junior secondary. Then Wednesday, helping new senior students settle in. Mentioned in passing as things she'd be doing anyway.
The ask came after that. Like a continuation of the same thread. If I was around and didn't have anything else planned. Even just for a bit. Helping point people in the right direction. Nothing difficult. I read it twice before responding. There wasn't anything unreasonable about it. It made sense. Older students are supposed to help. I typed out a reply, erased it, then wrote something simpler. Said I'd see how my schedule looked and get back to her. It's technically true. It just doesn't commit to anything.
I scrolled past the rest. Posts from parents of first-day photos already coming in. Expressions held just long enough for the picture. Comments stacked under them almost immediately. I locked my device and set it down.
We headed out not long after. Ah Gong and Ah Ma had a few things to pick up at Palazzo, and I went with them. It was easier to attach myself to their plan than to come up with one of my own.
The Thúy Hoa Line was already busier than the last couple of days. Though not fully crowded yet. I tapped in and noticed the fare. 23.75 YĐ. Student discount still hadn't been reactivated. When we got to Sterling Center station I told them I'd walk around for a bit and meet them later. They nodded without asking anything else. It's understood at this point.
Alex had already been messaging while we were on the train. I opened the thread once I stepped out into the mall. Section reshuffle rumors he heard, along with teacher assignments that sounded exaggerated even as I read them, something about a last-minute change he'd clearly half-invented for effect. Then without transition: asked what I'd eaten and whether I was near Sterling Center. I told him I was.
He was already mid-thought when I found him at Promenade, talking like he'd started before I arrived and just continued once I was in range. It's easy to step into that. Don't need an entry point. Vivian messaged when she was done. You could see it on her when she found us that only came from keeping track of too many things at once. She'd been coordinating primary orientation all morning, escorting kids from the gates, making sure no one got lost in the first-day layout. The look cleared within a few minutes of walking with us. As usual.
We moved through Palazzo without deciding on a direction. Alex generates momentum, Vivian and I follow it until one of us quietly redirects it, and even without any plans, somehow, we always end up somewhere intentional. Alex jumping between observations without completing most of them, Vivian responding where it mattered, me filling the gaps or letting it run, depending on what the moment needed. To me, it just feels like the easiest way to exist with people. It's a kind of dynamic that's never changed since we were in primary school together.
At some point Alex asked if I'd actually looked at my timetable yet. I said not properly. He accepted this without comment, which means he probably hadn't either. Then I mentioned it. That we ended up in the same section. It came out more casually than I meant it to, like I was reporting something minor. I hadn't thought about how it would land until it was already out.
He reacted immediately. Closed the distance without warning and pulled me into a hug like it was the most obvious response in the world. Then he stepped back just as fast, already moving again, the conversation already somewhere else.
Vivian already saw hers. Of course she did. She mentioned how our scheduling this year looks easier. That's the difference between them in one gesture. Alex meets things as they arrive. Viv has usually already processed them by the time they come up. I've known both of them long enough that it just how the three of us are shaped around each other.
We kept walking through all 4 wings of the mall only to end up at the food court like we usually do. Alex spotted a place I wouldn't have noticed. Must've just opened right in the middle of Christmas rush. He pointed, and we went. We got inasal and croquette skewers. The portions were larger than expected, which was the first thing Alex reacted to. He held one up like it was evidence of something important. I agree when he said the price did not match the size. The food was good in the way things are good when you're not thinking about anything else. We grabbed drinks from a Koko Brew nearby and stayed standing while we ate, watching people move past.
Vivian was talking about her younger siblings' first day of primary school. Of course Uncle Koh had the twins enrolled in Prince Edward like we used to be. She showed us pics and I must confess I felt proud because of course I feel that they are my younger siblings too. After all, I did volunteer to babysit them a few years back. Alex kept interrupting with questions that were slightly beside the point, which made her lose the thread twice before she gave up and started laughing. I watched it happen without needing to do anything.
We didn't stay long after finishing. When we circled back my grandparents were already near the station entrance, with a few bags between them. I waved Alex and Viv goodbye as they were gonna stay at the mall for a little longer. I fell back into step with Ah Gong naturally, and the afternoon folded itself closed behind us.
The station still wasn't as crowded as I expected, but it sure was filling in. We boarded the next train that came in. It took me a second to register what it was. DMR 5900 Series. I'd read about it already, seen images, followed the rollout updates. This was the first time I was actually on one.
The difference was noticeable immediately once we were inside. The ride felt smoother, less of the subtle vibration you get with older stock. The interior layout was slightly more sleek. The sound profile was cleaner too. Hardly any mechanical noise bleeding into the cabin. I kept most of that to myself. There wasn't a reason to say it out loud. I stood there for most of the ride, holding onto the rail. For a few stops, I didn't think about anything else.
When we got back, door closed, bags set down, Ah Gong and Ah Ma moved through the living room without urgency, unpacking what they'd picked up earlier, folding things into place like they'd always belonged there. I went to my room not long after.
The bag was still by the desk from last night. I pulled it up and unzipped it fully, then started taking everything out without really thinking about the order. It all ended up spread across the desk. Old notebooks. Loose sheets that had slipped between folders. Pens. Cables. A screwdriver I still carried out of habit.
There's a point where it stops being about preparing and turns into sorting. Some of the things looked more worn than I remembered. Corners bent in ways that don't flatten back out no matter how much pressure you put on them. The newer things stood out more because of it. I still don't have a clear system to any of it. I thought about it. That this might be the last time I'd be doing this in this exact way. Same desk, routine, and set of assumptions about what comes next.
Picked up another notebook instead and flipped through it, checking which pages were still usable. It worked. The thought didn't come back in the same way after that. Once everything was sorted into rough categories, I started putting things back into the bag. Heavier items at the bottom. Things I'd need quickly closer to the top. Like always.
The structure of the year sat somewhere in the background while I was doing it. Not the schedule itself. I still hadn't properly gone through the timetable. It was more the outline of it. The parts I already knew would hold.
Journalism club first. It's the one place where I don't feel like I'm reacting to something set in advance. My humble editorial department, especially. It's predictable in the sense that I know how it works, but not in the sense that it limits what I can say. Or at least, not entirely.
I'm aware of the limits. Everyone in the club is. The NUF Youth co-heads aren't subtle about what gets prioritized and what doesn't. Certain angles move faster through approvals. Certain topics stall just long enough to miss relevance. It hasn't been a problem I've had to confront directly yet. I've only learned to work around it.
Last year, I leaned more into things that would get through. Observational pieces, really anything that could be framed without triggering too much attention. It worked. Built a voice people on campus now recognize. I like that.
I still remember the appointment like it was still yesterday. Last day of proper school before Christmas holiday break. Four of us in the department at the time, and of course, it was unanimous that I would now lead it. Ky got appointed to lead radio the same day, also unanimous, which surprised nobody who'd seen her work. Her department is bigger than mine, more people to coordinate and all, actual equipment too, but she runs it the way she does everything, deliberately, without rushing toward anything.
We already overlap in one place: the editorial segment we produce together, her format, my words. I'm looking forward to seeing what that looks like with both of us actually leading our sides of it. What I'm less focused on is the part where we still answer to the club president who is now, Edison. Another NUF Youth, year after year. That part I'm treating as a known condition rather than a problem. For now. The harder thing to sit with is that Marcus isn't there anymore. Graduated now and off to Chulalongkorn University. I, and the other three of us were his, and now I'm not anyone's. I owe him more than I've probably said out loud. He's the reason the editorial column has any teeth at all. I'm trying not to think about what it means to be the one responsible for keeping that.
Debate club is simpler. Or at least it feels that way. It's structured conflict. You know the rules going in. You know when it starts and when it ends. I don't think those exist in most other places.
Running the Westminster model instead of the copying the National Assembly model like all other schools sounds excessive until you're in it, and then it's the only format that makes sense. The formality is what makes the argument mean something. You have to be recognized to talk. You have to hold the floor. You have to know when to yield.
Whether NUF Youth acts on the forwarded motions we debated regarding school policies and resource allocations is a separate question. But the structure exists, and using it feels different from debate that's purely competitive.
Vivian and I are bloc leaders was likewise also settled before the break without much discussion. It doesn't need discussion. Suits me that I will run opposition. We'd already agreed on Speaker not long after. Eason. He was the obvious choice and he knew it. Made the conversation easier than it should have been. He accepted with exactly the level of ceremony the role deserved, which is to say far too much of it. I'm genuinely looking forward to his ceremonial dragging to the chair on opening day. He's already told us he's planning something. I believe him completely and I'm not going to warn anyone.
What I also look forward to is when procedure breaks down badly enough that Mr. Tsai needs to physically intervene. It hasn't come to that often. Last year was fine. I don't get that specific energy anywhere else. The back-and-forth timing of arguments building until they either hold or collapse. You commit, and then it exists as it is. I think I need more of that this year.
There's also Eric. All recruits are Form 10s, so seeing a Form 11 join was odd. Even more so to join the opposition bloc. Technically capable but without the instincts yet. Always has something real to say but doesn't know where to put the weight. I've seen enough of that to know it's fixable. I've been doing this since I was twelve. The gap is just time and repetition.
We haven't talked much outside of sessions. He's not someone I know yet, not properly. But I keep noticing the way he constructs an argument when he's not second-guessing himself. There's something there worth developing. Whether that goes anywhere this year depends on how much he actually wants to improve versus how much he just wants to participate. I'm going to find out.
I zipped the bag once everything was inside. Enough to keep it from spilling open again. It looked complete. Unit drifted out at some point while I was working. I didn't hear it leave the dock. It stayed slightly above desk height for a few seconds, angled in my direction. I didn't stop what I was doing. Kept adjusting the placement of things inside the front pocket, making space where there probably didn't need to be any. I realized that I had been expecting it to stay longer. After a while, it rotated back toward the dock and returned to it without prompting. The rest of the afternoon didn't extend much beyond that. I sat for a bit after finishing, not doing anything in particular.
Dinner was simple. Ah Gong and Ah Ma kept things easy, the way they always do when it's just the three of us. We talked a little more about where they'd go next in the coming days, small errands they wanted to take care of before heading back. Didn't have to anticipate where the conversation was going or prepare a response ahead of it. I don't get this kind of peace when my parents are around.
At some point Ah Gong reached over and adjusted the lazy susan without saying anything, rotating it so the steamed fish I'd been reaching awkwardly for was directly in front of me. It's such a small thing that I don't know why it stayed with me. Maybe because no one announced it.
After we finished, they moved back to the living room with their tea and TV show. I went back to my room with the same lack of ceremony as before. The bag was still on the desk. Closed now. Final.
I sat down and opened this app without thinking about it. It's becoming part of the sequence. Thought about it again. Clearer this time. Final year shouldn't feel like this already. Not this early. Not before anything has actually started. But I'm stopped that thought right here. I'm not going to let it expand into anything else. It still works the same way it did the first day. Things settle once they're on the screen. It's easier to move past something when it has a place to sit.
I queued up Overseer Sonata while I was writing. Low volume, just enough to fill the gaps between thoughts. I didn't follow most of it. Caught fragments here and there. At some point a scene came on that I actually registered. It was of Hibiki and Shion in a stairwell, talking about something neither of them would bring up anywhere else. The show does that a lot. Puts real conversations in transitional spaces like they don't count as much there. I stopped writing for a second. The last time I'd talked about Overseer Sonata properly was with Emi. I don't remember the exact context now, some overlap at the library where we ended up in the same space long enough that the usual small talk ran out and something else came in to replace it.
She'd seen further into it than I had. Didn't spoil anything. But she said something about stairwell scenes specifically. I hadn't thought about that until just now. I looked at my contacts without fully deciding to. Found her name. The last message in the thread was from before the break. No Happy New Year or Merry Christmas. Not from me, not from her. Sending something would mean I would have to be certain about it. Somewhere between the first day of the break and now, the window where it would've felt natural had quietly closed. I typed something anyway. Short. Referenced the show, said something about finally catching up on the episodes I'd missed. Read it back once. It sounded like exactly what it was. I deleted it and went back to this journal. The episode was still running. The stairwell scene had already moved on to something else. I didn't bother to pause or rewind anymore.
Unit stayed docked. The room felt stable in a way the day didn't. Everything in place. Bag packed. Decisions made, at least the ones that can be made this early. The rest of it is already moving whether I engage with it or not.
I keep coming back to the train from earlier. The idea of it. The way it arrives on schedule whether anyone is ready for it. Doors open, pause just long enough, then close again. I can see it coming. That part I know. I just don't know yet if I'm standing in the right place when it does.