All That's Wrong With Us

Mornings on campus were always a little too bright for North's liking. The air was still crisp from the early hour, but the sun had no patience, already climbing high, glaring down at the pavement with an unforgiving intensity. Heat radiated off the concrete, bouncing off the tall buildings like it was trying to personally ruin his day.

Blue scooter hummed softly beneath as North pulled into the lot, weaving between parked motorcycles until he found an open space near the entrance of the engineering building. The familiar scent of asphalt, oil, and fresh-cut grass lingered in the air as he cut the engine and kicked the stand into place. Light reflected in sharp angles, making him squint when he pulled the helmet off, shaking out slightly tousled, dark hair.

With a slow exhale, North adjusted the strap of the backpack, rolling shoulders to shake off the stiffness from the ride. His body still felt half-asleep, muscles sluggish from the lack of rest. The faint buzz of the morning rush around him didn't help. Students moved in clusters, some engaged in lively conversations, others shuffling toward their destinations like zombies. North fell somewhere in between, awake, but not quite functioning yet.

For a moment, he sat there, fingers still curled around the handlebars, blinking at the flood of light reflecting off the surrounding white buildings. He let out another slow yawn, stretching the arms before finally swinging a leg over and stepping off the scooter.

It was too early for this. But at least he had a smoothie waiting for him later.

Being a first-year engineering major felt a little strange sometimes. Not because North doubted himself, he was good at it, actually, but because the stereotype of engineering students didn't really match his persona. Others liked to say it was a tough major, that students were always buried under assignments, practically living in labs while running on caffeine, and last-minute problem-solving. Sure, the workload could pile up, but it wasn't as dramatic as everyone made it out to be.

And North? He just went with the flow. As always.

Not that he didn't care. He did, of course. But while others stressed over equations and deadlines, North took things at his own pace. No reason to burn out before even getting through the first year, right? So he turned in assignments on time, helped his classmates when needed, and even paid attention in class, well, mostly. When he wasn't busy chatting with friends, doodling in the margins of his notebook, or secretly playing games on the phone under the desk, he was a model student. 

Besides, he had a system.

The moment he stepped into the lecture hall, he scanned the room, eyes easily locking onto a familiar head of neatly styled dark hair.

"Kyu!" North grinned, sliding into the empty seat beside his friend.

Ikkyu, as composed as ever, barely looked up from the notes. "You're early," he observed.

"Crazy, right?" North leaned back in the chair, stretching his arms. "I was gonna sleep in, but then I remembered attendance actually exists."

Ikkyu hummed in acknowledgment, not bothering to comment further. They both knew North wasn't the type to stress over things unless absolutely necessary.

A few minutes later, their professor walked in, launching straight into a discussion about fluid mechanics, something about viscosity and Reynolds numbers. North flipped open one of the books, more out of habit than actual necessity, letting the pen hover lazily over the page. Some students scrambled to take notes as if their lives depended on it, writing down equations and definitions at lightning speed. North, on the other hand, mostly listened, jotting down a keyword here and there when something actually seemed worth remembering.