I made a stop at the bathroom and brushed my teeth, then played a card game on my phone while contemplating on the future of mankind and our technological advances. After a healthy pondering, I washed my hands and left quite satisfied.

Once again, Kanbe's 16^th University is quite large. Accepting around eighty thousand students every year, the buildings were built with a sizable student body in mind. People need to move around if they want to be healthy members of society. Sports are crucial if one pursues fitness of mind and body. Kanbe's 16^th University provides a wide variety of options for those with a modern and healthy outlook.

I am part of the swimming team at Kanbe's 16^th University, and practice started in a few minutes.

The gymnasium housing the swimming pool we used was noisy as usual with teams of various sports exercising. The building was split in many different natatoriums that had gyms next to them, but the noise bled through anyway.

I made my way into the female swimming team's natatorium with a pep in my step, then into our personal changing-room.

People were already inside, having a conversation.

“It helps when gliding through water,” a familiar voice, Sara Ramirez – who consistently achieved third place –, insisted in a cheering tone. “It has nothing to do with fashion.”

“Your time will improve, too,” Yokiko Yasunaga's even voice added to the argument.

I opened the door and looked around.

The target of their advice was sitting on a bench with a displeased face. The newest member that joined the team that week, Wenyang Feng, had her arms crossed over her chest.

It was my first time meeting her in the flesh. Coach Maksimov had only mentioned her during last practice.

“Hey,” I greeted them with a wave, walking to them.

Sara approached and we greeted with a kiss on the cheek. “How have you been, Vale?” She asked with a smile.

“Pretty good,” I replied with a wink, then turned to Yokiko. “What's up?”

“The sky,” Yokiko laughed. “And this dumb girl who's not listening to us,” she added and walked to me, greeting me just like Sara. “She doesn't want to shave.”

I gave Wenyang a look up and down.

She was wearing shorts, revealing a peach fuzz on her legs. A sleeveless crop top revealed equally unattended armpits and arms.

I let out a sigh, opened the locker to put my bag in, then retrieved my towel. That was not a conversation I wanted to be part in. Still, I leaned on the locker and watched it unfold, cracking open the Thermonuclear Throatpunch I bought earlier and taking a long drink. “Haaa...” I sighed at the feeling of the carbonated energy drink going down my throat.

“You see, Wenyang,” Yokiko continued, realizing I wasn't going to help convince the new member. “When you shave, it reduces drag and therefore resistance in the water.”

“That's right,” Sara nodded with enthusiasm. “It's like wearing a sleek swimsuit, but it's your whole body that gets the advantage. You won't need to wear those whole-body suits that obstruct movement, too.”

Wenyang gave the two a skeptical glance. “I've heard about swimmers shaving, but everything? That's a bit extreme, isn't it?”

I removed my piercings while listening.

Sara smiled at that. “It depends on your dedication to the sport, actually. The most serious swimmers,” she looked at me and gestured at my body. “Like Valentina here, shave pretty much everything – legs, arms, chest, and even their back. It's all about minimizing resistance in the water.”

“I don't need to shave my chest or back, though,” I offhandedly clarified, then took a long swig of the energy drink.

Yokiko quickly tapped on her phone's screen, searching for something. “I'll send you solid proof and data that goes in depth about what we're talking about.”

I turned my wrist and my phone assembled in my hand, then opened the messages.

 

“I know full body shaving can be intimidating when you start a sport,” Sara empathized with a gentle expression. “It seems like quite the commitment for something that hasn't shown results yet. I promise the results will come, Wenyang.”

Wenyang looked at her phone, having received a proximity-based link through a message by the way her phone pinged. Her fingers scrolled through the information, tapping on the screen a few times. Her eyes lost a bit of the skepticism they initially held, however. “I guess it makes sense,” she folded a bit. “But won't it be uncomfortable when the hair starts growing back?”

 

“Not if you do it right,” Sara told her with a reassuring tone, raising a finger. “Razors, wax, and laser are things of the past. I'll send you the location of the place we all go to,” she said and tapped on her phone several times. “They're true professionals and will leave you smooth as a baby's bottom. They have really good and understanding dermatologists who'll advise you on how to take care of your skin type after the procedure is done.”

“Besides,” Yokiko struck while the iron was hot. “We all do it. You'll be in good company whenever any concern arises.”

Sara nodded with a big smile. “We're a team, and now you're part of it... so we'll clear any doubts you have!”

Wenyang's expression eased. She looked at her phone and hummed, clearly pondering the idea. Slowly, the little bit of skepticism left in her eyes was replaced by determination. “Okay, I'll give it a shot. It's worth a try if it'll help me keep up with everyone.”

Yokiko shook her head. “Don't do it because we do it,” she corrected the young girl. “Do it because it will bring you benefits.”

“That's right,” Sara agreed with Yokiko. “You will see times you would have had to train months for just by shaving your body. You won't regret it.”

Wenyang nodded, now a soft smile in place of a frown. She looked at me and her eyes squinted, focusing on my right arm.

A tattoo sleeve covered my skin from shoulder to wrist.

Wenyang's eyes met mine and her brow furrowed once again. “We're allowed to get tattoos?” she inquired.

I nodded. “As long as no needles were used. Coach Maksimov and Nora don't really mind them. Let me know if they do and I'll help you with that.”

The new member nodded. “I don't plan on getting any, but thanks,” she said. “Who's Nora?”

“Our captain,” Yokiko replied, checking her phone.

Since the matter looked to be settled I walked into one of the showers stalls and closed the door, then got naked and turned the water on. Placing both hands on the wall, I let the cold shower hit my back.

Two today, I thought with a sleazy smile. Gabriella wants me so bad. Zhou is going to shit herself when I tell her.

“Hey everyone!” a voice boomed in the changing-room. Nora Saafan had arrived. “You must be Wenyang. Coach told me about you. Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, that's me,” she replied. “Nice to meet you, captain.”

“Good,” Nora's loud voice echoed. “Hmm. Did you not get the memo about shaving?”

“I did, captain. I just...” her voice trailed off, perhaps too taken aback by the direct approach or not wanting to admit to the captain the fact she didn't want to shave at first.

“How was she supposed to know where to go?” Sara interjected, always the gentle one. “Also, you don't expect her to use her own money on it, right? We have a budget for that. I bet the memo didn't cover that part.”

“...Right,” Nora agreed. “It's not really an issue, though. At least not today,” she pointed out. “We'll be using the gym, but make sure to get that sorted out by next practice.”

“Yes, captain,” Wenyang replied.

“Valentina!” the loud woman called.

I stood on my toes and looked over the shower stall door, meeting Nora's eyes and arching an eyebrow.

“You have a car,” she told me as a matter of fact. “Take her today. I'll reimburse you.”

I looked at Wenyang. “Are you free after this? I have about a couple of hours of time so we'll have to rush a bit.”

The newest member nodded. “I am. Is it far? I have to let my parents know.”

“It's pretty close,” Yokiko replied, walking to the shower stall next to mine. “How old are you, by the way?”

“Eighteen,” Wenyang replied with a shrug. “I graduated school last year.”

“Awww! Baby!” Sara cooed, giving the girl a hug. “I'll protect you from Nora and Coach Maksimov.”

I giggled at her reaction and resumed my shower, making sure to get rid of the thin film of sweat covering my body and the consequences of making out with Gabriella.

“Baby?” Wenyang exclaimed in surprise. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-four,” Sara replied with a carefree laugh. “I graduate next year. I'm a Law student. And you? What course did you choose?”

“Law? That's crazy hard,” the new member commented. “I picked Physical Therapy.”

“What made you choose the swimming team?” Nora asked, her voice coming from the shower stall next to Yokiko's.

“It fits my schedule,” Wenyang unashamedly replied. “The other option was Water Polo but I'm too short.”

“AYEEEE BITCHEESSS!!!” a shout came into the changing-room. Another team member, Audrey Pratt, had arrived. Her voice echoed in the enclosed space.

“You loud cunt,” I complained, stuck my head above the shower stall door and splashed water at her.

“Ay, mija,” Audrey gasped, taking a step back and dodging most of the water. Some of it fell where she placed her foot and she slipped, falling down. “WAGH!”

“Finally,” another voice, much more comfortable to listen to, said from the door of the changing-room. Yelizabeta Aleksiiva gave me a thumbs up. “The clown is defeated.”

“Swimming Team Ace murders fellow member in a cold blooded act of violence,” another voice said. Standing next to Yelizabeta, Constanza Deidda shook her head. “Witnesses report having known of Valentina's thirst for blood, but had been too scared to say anything, becoming accessories of tragedy.”

“Not how it works,” Sara spoke up, correcting the Journalism student.

Constanza shrugged. “It gets the people going,” she argued with a cheeky smirk.

“My child!” a new voice rushed into the changing-room, crouching next to Audrey. Latife Mehmed fake sobbed.

“Mother!” Audrey called out in mock pain. “Is it... over?”

“At long last,” Latife muttered, her voice thick with grief. “No clown entertains forever, my daughter.”

Slowly, all the members arrived, filling the changing-room with chatter and laughter.

–

Two and a half hours later, we stood in line in front of Coach Maksimov.

Petro Vasilivich Maksimov, former member of Kanbe's Male Olympic Swimming Team, was a serious-looking man in his mid forties. Once an international star for beating Michael Phelps' record of amount of gold medals won in the same number of years, he was now our coach. Standing at around 195 centimeters tall and with broad shoulders despite his age, his cold gray eyes scrutinized us through glasses.

I was at the front of the line, facing a flat square on the ground. Taking a deep breath and letting it go, I stood on the plate.

Silence took over the gym next to the pool.

Coach Maksimov looked down at a screen in his hands, then read the information aloud, “One hundred and seventy eight centimeters tall. Seventy-eight kilograms, four hundred and ninety-one grams. Eleven point nine percent body fat. Healthy. Good job, Valentina.”

I nodded and stepped off the square. “Thank you, Coach.”

“Still getting steroid usage accusations?” he inquired with worry, leaning his head down to look at me over his glasses.

I gave him a nod and a smile. “Yep. Genotipically typical people can't fathom the existence of their superiors,” I joked.

He scoffed and the edges of his lips threatened to form a smile. “Good attitude, kid,” he told me and gestured for me to stand aside.

I did and waited.

My team mates stood on the measuring plate one by one, the information read out loud by Coach Maksimov. Congratulations and recommendations came and went, until we were all done.

“Alright,” Coach Maksimov called for attention, clapping twice. “You did a good job today, ladies. Progress is looking great and we should keep it up.” He touched the screen in his hands and folded it twice, then put it in his pants pocket. Resting both hands behind his back, he continued, “We have one week left before the annual summer meet and I expect you to take Gold, Silver, and Bronze in every category just like the past three years. You are an extremely capable group of young ladies and there is no doubt in my mind you will come out on top.” He gave each of us a long look, scanning us with his cold gray eyes.

“YES, COACH!” we replied. “THANK YOU, COACH!”

The man nodded, approving our response. “The meeting is where you'll show them the fruits of your struggle. Make them wish they're part of your team. You don't need to make me proud, ladies. I already am,” he told us with a serious face, no trace of a smile.

A few chuckles and giggles escaped us at the difference between words and facial expression.

“One last thing,” he added, giving each of us a look. “If you are having any kind of problem you can come to me. I have a daughter your age and I am no stranger to whatever you might be going through. Understood?”

“YES, COACH!” we replied once again. “THANK YOU, COACH!”

With a last nod, he turned to the exit. “Dismissed,” he announced and walked off. “I will be in my office.”

We scattered, some walking to the changing-room with heavy feet, others taking a seat on the ground and relaxing their bodies.

The workout had been demanding, but nothing that would take me out of commission. My back, arms, and core were a bit sore after training to failure, though.

I walked to the newest member and stood next to her.

Wenyang was panting, sitting on the ground with a water bottle in her hands. Her hair was messy and sweaty, her clothes wet through and through, and her face was slightly paler than earlier with flushed cheeks.

“You good?” I asked, crouching next to her.

The young girl nodded with unfocused eyes, but didn't verbally reply.

Sara walked to us and sat next to Wenyang. “You'll get used to it,” she comforted the girl. “Next time will be easier.”

“Huuu...” she let out a long breath, then drank some water.

I focused on my left wrist, where my watch had turned into a thin band to avoid getting in the way of physical activity. Tapping it twice, it changed back into a watch.

The time was 16:30, giving me two and a half hours until I called Monika. There were other things that required my attention before that, though.

I patted Wenyang's shoulder. “I'll wait for you in the changing-room,” I told her and walked off to have a nice shower.

Two people were in there already, Nora and Yokiko, who were silently cleaning themselves after the intense workout.

I walked to my locker and retrieved a clean towel, then walked into a shower stall.

With a few gestures of my hand my watch turned into a small drone, taking off and floating mid air in front of me.

I posed and took spicy photos in varying degrees of undress while showering.

-

Fifteen minutes later I walked out of the large gymnasium followed by Wenyang. The outside heat felt like a wall when crossing the door, forcing an annoyed sigh out of me.

A fresh change of clothes and a cold shower mitigated the afternoon heat, which was around 35 degrees Celsius according to my watch.

Taking a water bottle out of my backpack, I walked back into the university once again while taking a sip. This time the destination were the lifts.

Students came and went, but fewer than earlier, giving the university a slightly empty look.

Wenyang followed, looking a bit like a zombie with groans of pain and long sighs of exhaustion. “My back is killing me,” she whimpered.

“That's good,” I pointed out, walking past an automatic door and into the main building of the university. “Do you need to go to the bathroom, by the way? You'll probably fall asleep in my car.”

The girl shook her head. “I already went in the changing-room,” she replied.

“Alright,” I muttered and took a turn in the hallway into another, where the lifts were. I touched the screen next to the door and waited.

“How are you fine?” Wenyang asked in healthy envy. Her eyes went all over my body. “Doesn't it ache?”

I shrugged, then replied, “Rare genetics.”

“Huh,” she uttered, looking me over once more. “I mean... You have the muscle definition of someone who's gone to the gym for years, though. Is that why the coach mentioned steroid usage accusations?”

“Pretty much,” I confirmed with a nod. “Juicing would be suicide for me, though. My heart would pop like a balloon.”

“What's your personal best bench press?” Wenyang asked, all traces of tiredness gone and replaced by genuine interest.

A sharp exhale of amusement left my nose. “One hundred and thirty-five kilos. More than that would be bad for my health. Coach Maksimov scolded me so now I stick to one hundred kilos.”

The lift's door opened and three people walked out.

Wenyang's eyebrows climbed her forehead. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” I told her with a smile, walking into the lift.

She followed, nodding along. “That heavy at that age is abnormal,” she pointed out.

I pressed the parking lot drawing on the screen. “It is without context,” I countered. “I'm not average.”

The lift slowly descended.

Wenyang moved a hand to my arm. “May I?”

“Go ahead,” I allowed, offering my left arm.

She grabbed my upper arm, wrapping her fingers around the muscles and feeling them for a few seconds. “You have good genes,” she complimented with a smile, releasing my arm.

“Thank you,” I giggled, giving her an appreciative smile. “Do you go to the gym?”

Wenyang shook her head. “Just sports so far. I was in the track and field team in school.”

A ding came from above, signaling the lift had reached its destination. A robotic voice announced it as well before the doors opened.

We walked out and took a turn.

“Really? That's cool. What category?” I asked while walking.

“Relay, long distance, and marathon,” she replied, catching up to me. “I have good cardio thanks to that.”

I nodded, impressed with the girl. “Was the track and field team not accepting members?” I asked, a little confused as to her choice of sport.

The young girl sighed, giving me a complicated look. “They, uhm, don't exactly have a good track record. Gave me the feel that I wouldn't be pushed to perform,” she explained herself.

My brow furrowed a little and I tilted my head. “And yet you didn't want to shave? I thought runners did that too?”

“Well, yeah,” Wenyang nodded, her face turning a little pink. “It's just.. I didn't know competitive swimming required shaving. I learned about water drag today.”

“Aha,” I uttered, approaching a specific car in the parking lot. “Common misconception,” I said, settling for a more understanding comment while still conveying she made a mistake. “That's the one,” I pointed at my car.

My baby was as perfect as I had left it when I arrived at the university in the morning.

A testament to Kanbe's mid 23^rd century technology, the vehicle floated twenty centimeters off the ground. We had long abandoned the wheel that had supported humanity for thousands of years. Instead, maglev tech had taken over the industry and become the norm.

Vehicles capable of flight and underwater travel existed, but my part time job didn't allow for such luxuries.

The car had a vintage exterior, a 22^nd century version of the 21^st century's Moyota GR GT3 Coupé. It had two seats just like the original, and the interior imitated its look as well but with today's technological commodities. The paint job was a matte gray, giving it a sexy look.

The eXII N5 Engine, courtesy of K&A New Binuclear Energy, gave it a suicidal top speed of 850 kilometers per hour, reached in a reasonable 13.2 seconds. It also guaranteed a battery life of twenty years of constant full speed. Pretty standard for an affordable car.

It had costed me Ꝅ1.680.000, which I paid in six comfortable installments two years ago.

“No way that's your car,” Wenyang refused reality, walking around it and checking it out.

“You have eyes but don't see Mount Tai before you,” I lamented, touching the car's backside.

The lid opened upwards, revealing a wide space where I put my bag and backpack.

The girl gave me an incredulous look, but decided to put her stuff with mine. “Did you parents give it to you?”

I laughed, amused at her disbelief. “I work, baby,” I replied, walking to the driver's door and touching it with a finger.

Both doors opened upwards and the back door closed.

I got in and turned the air conditioning off, having left it on all day to avoid returning to an oven.

Wenyang got in on the passenger side and turned to me. “How do I close the door?”

I pressed the screen on the dashboard, prompting the doors to close. “Your parents don't have a car?” I asked at her ignorance.

She shook her head. “We take public transport,” was her reply, but her eyes were busy looking at the interior.

“I see,” I muttered. “Put the seat belt on, girl,” I told her and fastened mine.

After making sure she did as told, I turned the car on.