The incessant ticking of a clock signaled the ever-moving passage of time in the classroom. Unstoppable and unforgiving. The heat of early July, nearing the 38 degrees Celsius, was tyrannically oppressive as well, turning the place of learning into a human oven everyone wanted to get out of.

With mere minutes until Summer vacation started, a bead of sweat rolled down my neck.

“Whale sightings will begin in a few days,” the teacher, an old man with gray hair and thick glasses, reminded the class. “You can see them if you go to the eastern bay. As discussed, I'll be expecting a report on their migration after the break,” he announced, glancing at each and every student. “That's thirty percent of this subject. Do not forget. I wont hear any excuses, young ones,” he warned with a stern face.

I nodded along with my classmates. “Yeah...” I muttered, adding to the unintelligible response coming out of everyone.

A few seconds of the old man inspecting our faces later, he nodded. “Good. I'll be passing attendance now. You can leave as I call your names,” he chuckled and walked to his desk.

I sighed, slumping on my seat just enough to be comfortable. With sluggish arms and a parched throat, I gathered my belongings and put them in my bag.

He sat down at his desk, fiddled with a portable screen, and called, “Amin.”

A young man with a trimmed yet thick beard  sitting next to me stood up with a lazy wave of his hand. “Here,” he replied to the teacher.

The old man looked at him, then nodded. “You can leave.”

With quick steps and a long but quiet sigh, Amin walked toward the door. He grabbed the knob, opened and, right before he left, met eyes with me.

I nodded towards the hallway and made the universal gesture of eating.

Amin nodded and mouthed 'Cafeteria', then left.

“Bernice,” the teacher called.

The prospect of food after half a day at uni made me ignore the teacher for the following minutes, fantasizing about the dishes that awaited me. Lost in thought, I stared at the watch on my left wrist.

Five minutes before the class ended, and seven students later, the King of Kings decided to unburden me of the biggest task any human can endure.

“Valentina,” the teacher called.

I stood up. “Here,” I replied and walked towards the door. “Take care, Mr. Chevski,” I told him with a smile. Although the teacher had the habit of being an absolute cunt every once in a while, being on friendly terms with him was crucial to not get an unfair grading on the assignments.

He nodded without looking at me, touching the screen. “It's Czyżewski,” he corrected while giving me a nasty side eye.

Whatever, I thought, turning around and rolling my eyes before leaving the classroom. Chuchuski, Chicheki, Cheeky fuck! I cursed in my mind.

A mostly empty hallway welcomed me. The details didn't matter to me as I walked at a brisk pace toward the exit, where the much needed winds coming from the sea awaited for downtrodden souls such as I.

The glass door opened on its own to let me through.

I closed my eyes and took a deep, deep, deeep, breath of fresh air.

The salty smell and taste of the ocean breeze made its way into my lungs, cooling them in that intoxicating feeling that can only be experienced after being in a closed room full of people during summer.

“Haaaaaa...” I sighed and opened my eyes, turning around and facing the glass door's reflection.

Hazel eyes stared back. Long eyelashes and thick shapely eyebrows accentuated the color, furthered still by the tan skin color that resembled toasted cinnamon and features inherent to my ethnicity.

My face would be best described to be at the exact point between prettyboy and handsomegirl.

Two small studs pierced both my nostrils, and a thin golden chain connected them. A medusa and labret pair of piercings gave my full and plump lips an even higher allure, prompting the irresistible desire to nibble on them unto any who looked.

I ran both hands through my dark wavy hair, letting the wind cool my head and fixing stray locks behind my ears.

The action of raising both arms made my white crop top climb up my stomach a little, fully uncovering my abdominal muscles and giving a cheeky peek to my serratus anterior, the muscles toned and visible under my skin thanks to six years of constant gym attendance and an entire life of doing sports.

I turned a little, watching my side reflection.

My breasts and buttocks were big, being the only place in my body where fat accumulated despite having reached the healthy limit of twelve percentage body fat. Red joggers covered my legs, and comfortable sneakers protected my feet.

My fit was immaculate and my reflection told me that.

Although to the uneducated and uncultured I could be considered a generic beauty, there were few of us. At least on my level.

Slight narcissistic personality disorder? Never heard of it. The name is non-participatory self image.

Now free of the smell of human sweat in an enclosed space – and making sure nobody around was looking at me – I put my left hand in my pocket. With expert and practiced movements I gently maneuvered my genitals through my briefs and slowly separated my cock and balls, forcing a satisfied sigh out of me once they freed from each other and from my labia.

With that out of the way, I raised my left hand to shoulder level and started walking to the cafeteria.

My watch turned into a thousand little machines the size of sand grains that walked over my skin towards my open hand, where they assembled into a smartphone. The process took less than half a second. The screen lit up, showing a picture of a dolphin with me next to it, giving a thumbs up to the camera. Superposed on top of the image, in large font, a digital clock read [12:56]. Right below it sat a small box with the message [100+ Unread Messages], with another bellow it reading [100+ notifications from 3 apps].

I nodded and lowered my hand, resulting in the piece of tech going back where it belonged, then looked ahead. “I love Fridays,” I muttered to myself, retrieved a snapback hat from my backpack, and put it on.

Kanbe's 16th University was, despite its simplistic name, a large campus spanning twelve blocks. With buildings of all sizes and purposes, the whole thing was fairly normal when it came to architecture. The postmodern style focused on functionality over beauty, yet still had the utilitarian perspective of having green zones equal to half the area of every building around them occupied.

The courses available were varied, though not all-encompassing. Medicine and Law were two examples of courses that one could take at Kanbe's 16th Univesity.

I was a student of none of those.

Before I even had the physical capacity to utter a word I felt the call of the sea. The endless species below its surface, from animals to insects, had charmed little me like the song of a siren would a sailor. Creatures like the Balaenoptera musculus or the Cyanea capillata, and even the long extinct Anomalocaris Canadensis, were things of pure wonder to me.

My path was Marine Biology and Oceanography.

Similarly, the young man that was waiting in the queue at the open cafeteria, Amin, had felt the call of the sea.

I approached and stood next to him beneath the benevolent shade cast by the building. “What are we having?”

The man looked up at the digital board where a good number of items were showcased. “I was thinking Tacos, but they only have pork today... so I'll go with...” he squinted while reading. “Japchae,” he turned to me and shrugged. “Whatever that is.”

“Adventurous,” I praised him and turned my attention to the food options. “I'll go with...” A picture of an octopus breathing fire caught my attention. An entire sentence was moving on top of it, which it was hanging from. “The spicy octopus... that's a long name.”

“It is,” he agreed, looking at the board as well. “Maybe it means super ultra mega spicy octopus?” he offered with an amused smile.

The queue moved while a sharp exhale left my nose, and we faced the cashier.

“What will it be?” the old man working the register asked in a monotone.

“Does japchae have pork?” Amin asked the man.

“No,” was the reply.

“I'll have that, then,” my classmate finalized, pulling a smartphone from his right pocket. “Add a bottle of water, please.”

The old man turned to the machine and pressed a few buttons. “And the sides?”

“Noodles,” the younger man answered.

After two more selections were made, the old man gestured at our side of the counter.

The surface shimmered, then became a screen that read [Ꝅ120] on it, also saying the number and currency out loud in a mechanical voice.

Amin touched the screen with his smartphone, completing the transaction.

The old man turned to me.

“Super duper mega ultra spicy octopus for me,” I told him before he could ask. “Pickled radish on the side. One Thermonuclear Throatpunch, two bottles of water, and a peach.” I opened my backpack and gave him two regular metallic bottles I was carrying.

His wrinkly face moved to a slight smile. “Are you sure you want it that spicy?” he asked while taking the bottles.

I nodded. “Five out of five, please.”

He shrugged. “It's your colon,” he sighed and touched the screen on his side.

Just like before, the counter changed to a screen with the text [Ꝅ210] and announced the number along with the currency, to which I pressed my left wrist against to pay.

We bid the cashier goodbye along with a thank you and walked to the counter next to his area, where we waited for our lunch. A door leading to the kitchens stood in front of us.

Amin was on his phone. His brow joined for a second but quickly relaxed. “Good. Japchae is halal,” he muttered with relief.

His words confused me greatly. “You ordered before making sure?” I inquired with raised eyebrows.

He shrugged, scratching his beard with an embarrassed expression on his face. “Can't hold up the line,” he excused himself. “I could cancel the order if it wasn't, anyway.”

“True,” I agreed with a nod, then gestured at the digital board menu. “I bet it's delicious anyway. Just look at it.”

“You're right,” he chuckled.

The door to the kitchen opened and a server came out pushing a floating trolley. He took a tray and placed it on the counter, then looked at a watch on his left wrist. “Monika?”

A breeze brought the smell of the kitchen, mingling the scents of various foodstuffs both freshly prepared and preserved for a while.

“Ohh...” I groaned in hunger and healthy envy.

A student that looked to be around our age walked to the counter and showed him her phone. “That'd be me,” she said in a cheerful voice.

Amin and I turned to her in silence.

She was wearing a tight black shirt that had the organs of a human drawn on them, a thin chain harness following the shape of human ribs on top, black shorts with black leggings underneath, and black trainers. Her hair was scarlet and natural dark black roots were a little visible on the crown of her head. Her makeup was what could be considered among the subculture of goth or heavily alt depending on her activities and proclivities. Her eyes were blood red with symbols on the pupil, obviously contacts. It all contrasted nicely to her pale white skin, a rarity when considering the constant presence of the sun above Kanbe.

My classmate turned to me with a serene face, but soon his eyes widened and his eyebrows climbed his forehead. “Damn,” he mouthed without making a sound.

My eyes darted back to the woman receiving her food, more accurately to her voluminous chest area. “Subnallah,” I whispered quietly in a joking manner.

“Don't,” Amin muttered, but his lips were threatening to form a smile.

I looked away, but the image was burned in my retinas.

A strong sexual pull, both unexpected and undeniable, coursed through my veins.

There was something magnetic about her. An air of mystery and confidence that called for me in the most primal of ways. Whether it was her style, the contrast of it and the weather, the way she carried herself, or her physical attributes, I did not know. Perhaps it was a mixture of everything.

My eyes jumped from her to the door that lead to the kitchens, each pause lasting longer on her before looking elsewhere until I was straight up staring.

Nature called, instilling in me a need to breed that heated my core and loins with equal fire. Myriad fantasies played in my mind, simulating the feeling of sweaty skin against my face and hands.

I took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. As a mortal mammal, I cannot resist nature. To a wide-eyed Amin, who's expression turned amused, then supportive, I slowly approached the mysterious Monika, stopping next to her. Immediately I noticed she was shorted than me.

Monika, seemingly unaware of the attention, looked around the cafeteria for a few seconds until her eyes stopped when meeting mine. Her eyebrows rose, a natural reaction when discovering someone had been staring.

My eyes did not move from hers.

As if understanding the intensity of my gaze, a subtle but knowing smile played on her full lips, black lipstick giving them an even greater contrast.

A mix of desire and curiosity washed over my psyche, prompting me to return the smile. “Valentina,” I told her my name, extending my right hand for her to shake. “First time seeing you around here.”

She looked me up and down, intrigue in her stare. When her gaze stopped on my offered hand, her smile dropped and her eyebrows went up once again, this time in surprise.

I had the word futa tattooed on the knuckles of my right hand when I was seventeen and my whole identity was the genitals between my legs. A stupid thing to do in hindsight, but something that had surprisingly opened more doors than it had closed, leading me to the decision of keeping it even though tattoo removal was easy, quick, and cheap.

Monika's eyes looked past my hand and towards my crotch, slightly leaning her head to the side in search of whatever popped into her mind.

I closed into her a little, enough to intercept her scrutiny of my lower body but not enough to invade her personal space. “Looking for something?” I inquired with a cheeky smirk, playing innocent.

Her eyes widened, then hurried to meet mine, turning her body my way. “Ahem,” she cleared her throat and held my hand, returning the handshake. The many rings and jewelry adorning her fingers felt cold to the touch, producing a soft clink as our hands touched. “I'm Monika,” she introduced herself, her face turning a slight pink. “And, uh... I usually have lunch near the third building. First time, uhm, here.”

I nodded, my smile turning a little sly. “A change of pace, huh? I'm a bit of that myself,” I told her, physically backing up a little.

Monika covered her mouth and giggled, the sound bright and charming. “Wow!” she exclaimed with disbelief and amusement. She placed a hand on my forearm and leaned back a bit, letting the giggle run its course. “That was... wow!”

My smile widened, the feeling of our skin touching magnifying the fire in me. “Pretty good, huh?” I giggled as well, the excitement too much to hold in.

She looked me in the eye and nodded. “One of a kind,” she agreed with a smile. “Unbelievable,” she chuckled.

I gave her a wink. “Hey, can I get your number?”

“For sure,” Monika accepted with a big nod and a laugh, putting her free hand in her pocket and pulling a smartphone. “You definitely can. Yes.”

I turned my left wrist, prompting my watch to turn into a phone, then offered it.

She moved her phone to mine until they touched, triggering the contact exchange confirmation. “So what's the plan?” she asked, her gaze going from her phone to my eyes with intrigue.

I gave her a little shrug. “The weather's hot,” I said, then looked her up and down, stopping at her eyes. “You're hot. I'm hot. We could do hot things together if you're up for it.”

Despite wearing contacts, a gleam that reflected and matched the energy I was coming with could be seen in her eyes. Once again her gaze traveled all over my body, stopping at my arms, my stomach, my crotch, and my face for a brief moment. “We could,” she approved with a soft smile. “I'm free... today after seven.” She looked around and sighed, turning to me. “I gotta go though. Call me.”

I gave her a nod. “I will,” I confirmed. “Pleasure meeting you.”

Monika gave me a last look with a nod, then walked away with her tray of food.

I watched her go, then turn a corner and disappear from sight. Focusing on my phone, I accepted the contact exchange and let the thing go, making it turn back into a watch.

“You devious woman,” Amin called from behind me, disapproval and amazement dying his voice. “Not even a minute and you got her number.”

I turned to him and shrugged. “It's called pretty privilege, my good friend,” I revealed with a shit eating grin.

He shook his head and sighed, “Whatever you say.”

“You two got here right away,” an approaching voice called to us.

Turning to the source, I met eyes with blue ones, but had to look up a bit.

“Were you that hungry?” a girl asked us. Gabriella Döring, one of my classmates who left the classroom before me, walked up to the queue while looking at us.

Intrusive thoughts won and my eyes fell on her modest chest. “Yeah, pretty much,” I replied, looking back up to her face. “Anyway, what will you order?”

“A steak,” was her answer, arching an eyebrow at my peeking. “What are you two eating?”

“Japchae,” Amin shared, pointing at the digital board menu. “That one.”

“That one is pretty good,” the woman commented. “Goes well with geotjeori or dumplings.”

“With what?” he asked, a little confused.

I waited for the translation as well.

Our tall classmate scratched her left eyebrow, catching a bead of sweat running down her forehead. “It's a kimchi salad,” she explained. “Sort of.”

“Ahh, I see.” I nodded in understanding.

“What is kimchi?” Amin asked next, tilting his head a little.

“Cabbage,” I told him. “Pretty good.”

The man nodded. “Got it.”

Gabriella frowned, however. “It's not just cabbage, though,” she pointed out. “It's fermented cabbage with lots of other ingredients.”

“Sounds pretty tasty,” Amin commented with a smile. “Is it the alcohol kind of fermentation?”

The tall blonde thought for a second, perhaps trying to remember. “I don't think so, but you should make sure.”

As the two engaged in a culinary conversation, I looked around the cafeteria.

The seats next to the building were mostly occupied, arranged in a way that would make it easy to join tables if necessary. A sunshade floated above each table, positioning itself to completely cover them from the sun. What once would have been a wonder of technology some centuries ago was now a regular everyday thing that didn't raise anyone's brows.

My eyes stopped scanning my surroundings when I found what I was looking for.

Monika was sitting at a table with two girls and three boys, well away and on the other edge of the cafeteria.

Why was I staring? Because I liked what I saw. Simple as that.

After a good eyeful that left me satisfied, I shrugged and raised my left hand, prompting my watch to assemble into a phone. I tapped on the little box informing me of received text messages and scrolled through them, stopping at one and opening it.

 

 

I sighed at the last texts, then tapped on the link. A new chat window opened.

 

I closed the chat party and opened Zhou's chat.

 

After sending that, I closed the chat and searched for another.

 

I closed the chat and checked the other unread messages.

Most of them were acquaintances sharing memes and nonsensical conversations that had no great depth to them like music, clothing, sports, and other trivial topics.

Replying and keeping up with several conversations wasn't difficult, so it took me less than two minutes to grease the social engine.

“Valentina!” A voice called from across the counter.

Amin and Gabriella were still chatting. He had his tray ready, though.

I looked up and saw the cafeteria staff guy, then showed him my proof of purchase.

He nodded and handed me the tray.

I grabbed it and stepped back.

The two plates had a small hill of food on them, probably around four hundred grams total, with two water bottles and a large energy drink next to them.

The day ahead looked to be pretty good.