Back in class again for the last subject of the day: Systems and Logic. The room feels colder than before, though maybe that’s just me still coming down from the warmth of drinking the soup from Jono’s noodles at lunch. The sun streams lightly into the room from the back of the classroom, and the walls are their usual bland grey, broken only by outdated posters with quotes about discipline and diagrams of flowcharts. I’ll be stuck here for the rest of the afternoon, trying to finish school with the best marks I can while Roselyn… well… who knows what Roselyn is doing.

  Claudia is seated near the front with Jono, the two of them quietly focused on the front of the room. I didn’t get to sit next to them this time because I was running late and, by the time I arrived, those seats were already taken. I’d ducked into the bathroom after the last class and just got stuck in my own thoughts while I was there. I didn’t even realize how much time had passed until I was already late. Some of those thoughts, if I’m being honest, were about how much I didn’t want to go to Systems and Logic at all. It’s such a boring subject, and Mr Ito is always stricter with me than with the other students too!

  Mr Ito stands at the centre front of the classroom, precise in his posture. All 5'6" of him, lean with tailored trousers and a tucked-in shirt that never seems to wrinkle. In his late thirties, he carries himself with the confidence of someone who expects obedience without needing to raise his voice. His short black hair is parted neatly into a natural combover, and his deep-set eyes are dark and serious, scanning the room with sharp focus. He commands silence with very little effort; his presence is enough.

  He lectured me in front of the whole class for two full minutes about the discipline of being on time, but didn’t say a word about the fact that Roselyn, Sam, and Sabina didn’t even show up.

  “This conversation isn’t about other people, Victoria. It is about you and your late attendance.”

  I feel frustration rise at the unfairness of it all. “I’m sorry that I was five minutes late to class instead of skipping it entirely!”

  Mr Ito responds in his usual stern, level voice. “Don’t be sorry, don’t do it. If you don’t do anything you feel the need to apologize for, you won’t ever have to be sorry.”

  Now is probably not the best time to explain how sarcasm works. That would just land me into deeper trouble.

  I respond, “Yes, sir,” shortly and start walking to the back of the classroom.

  I stop and turn when I hear a firmly spoken, “Victoria.”

  After a pause, just long enough to wonder what else he could possibly have to say, he continues,

  “You may take a seat now. Don’t be late again this year if you don’t want to be 'sorry' for how it affects your grades.”

  I exhale deeply through my nose and turn without another word, catching Claudia’s mischievous look as I pass her. I roll my eyes and keep moving to the back row, sinking into my distant seat.

  Mr Ito returns to the front, where his tablet rests beside a small stack of logic kits, boxes filled with wires, switches and plastic circuit pieces used to teach how systems respond to rules and conditions. Beside them sits a small robot car, its metal frame scuffed from years of student use, still wired with sensors and wheels ready for programmed instructions.

  He clasps his hands behind his back and begins speaking again, more pleasantly this time. “Now, where were we before our late visitor?”

  There are a few raised hands, but he ignores them all. “Yes, that is right. You need to follow my advice on what to study for the final exam.”

  I can’t see any of Mr Ito’s written notes up front, but the best thing about his classes is the quiet control he holds over the room, and the way his voice can cut deeply into the heart of anyone he targets.

  Our grades are the only thing he can affect with his power as a teacher, and a lot of the class doesn’t care about their grades. But he still manages to gain their silence, if not their focus and respect. I don’t respect how he singles me out to verbally berate in front of the class, but maybe that’s just some entertainment that the others like to watch. Lucky me.

  Mr Ito’s voice clearly and calmly carries to where I am sitting as he begins running through our Systems and Logic material. He speaks in carefully layered sections, each one cleanly divided. There’s a logic to his logic, like he’s walking us through a maze of information, step by step, without ever needing to look at his notes. This is not something I can afford to miss if I wish to get strong marks in the exam.

  “As we prepare for the final exam in Systems and Logic, I want to remind you: this is not new. This is revision. You’ve engaged with these ideas all term. Now it is about clarity, focus, and applying what you already understand.”

  His tone doesn’t change, but his words gain weight as he speaks. I feel the class quiet further, pencils tapping less, a few students even leaning forward.

  “First, Logic and Algorithms. These are the foundations. You have built flowcharts, worked through logic puzzles, and broken-down problems step by step. For the exam, you will simply need to use those same techniques with precision.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Second, Coding Fundamentals. You have written, tested, and refined code. The syntax and structures are familiar now. Use what you have already practiced in order to create clean, functional programs under exam conditions.

  “Third, System Design and Simulation. You have explored how systems respond to input, how processes work together and how outcomes are shaped. During the exam, you will be asked to interpret or design something similar and to apply that same thinking to a new scenario.”

  “Fourth, Automation and Decision Structures. You have learned to structure logic using loops and conditions and seen how systems can respond automatically to change. Use that knowledge to demonstrate clear algorithmic thinking.”

  “Fifth, Ethical Reasoning. Throughout the course, we have discussed the responsibilities of system designers by exploring real examples and open discussions. In the exam, think critically, and show me how you approach design with integrity and care.”

  I try to stay focused, scribbling a few key words down in my tablet’s notes, though my mind keeps drifting. The words are familiar. He’s right that it is revision, but even with all his clarity and structure, I still find myself wondering how any of this will matter to me after graduation.

  “The format will be straightforward,” he continues.

  “Multiple choice to test core concepts. Short answers to explain logic and decisions. A practical coding task. A design and ethics response.”

  "My advice is to stay calm. You’re not starting from zero, you’re building on what you know. Be methodical. Take your time to read and plan before answering. Think clearly. Communicate your process as well as your result."

  "I believe in your ability to do this well. Use the knowledge you have built, and show me the systems thinker you have become."

  He finishes with a slight incline of his head and a clipped, “That is all. Good luck, and prepare with intention.”

  I blink. His delivery was so precise it felt like I was listening to the narration of a video tutorial.

  I finally understand this subject. It’s too boring to be useful. We learn about programs, algorithms, systems, and logic. But it’s all like learning a language no one else is able to speak, or read a story from. I would understand it more if we got to use it to create something (and no, a little robot vehicle that has no benefit to anyone doesn’t count), but learning for the sake of knowledge is a waste of my time.

  When Dad recommended that we all learn this subject because of how “useful” it is, I should have known better. Roselyn has given up on it, and the only one who seems to enjoy it is Ernie. I can’t imagine why, unless it feels like a video game to him, full of secret messages. A machine could just as easily replace and improved on those though. He and his little friends write messages to each other in the code of games they create and play. Their latest one has been going for over two years now, and I still have no idea how it works. Ernie tries to explain it to me sometimes. He gets so excited that I let him ramble on about it during our walks to and from school.

  It gives me the chance to tune into my own thoughts while he talks about things from their latest game, Aetherforge, that I’ve never heard of and probably never will understand. He even calls the game AFR-4G, like keeping the real name a secret is crucial for some classified reason.

  “What would you answer if that was a question in your exam, Victoria?”

  The sudden sound of my name startles me. Mr Ito is looking straight at me, waiting expectantly. I really need to pay more attention for the rest of this class. He seems to enjoy putting me on the spot.

  I blink fast, scrambling for words. “Sorry, I missed what you said before that. I mean, I missed what you said before that, sir. I was thinking about Ernie’s projects from this class.”

  That led me to catch the faintest hint of a smirk lifting his lips, a brief glimmer of amusement lighting his eyes.

  “There is a lot you can learn from your younger brother,” he says. “But for now, I will settle for you answering my question. Going back to one of the fundamental purposes of the subject: why do we need to set logic in anything we design?”

  I exhale. I know this one. “It sets the parameters for what we’re trying to create.”

  He replies, prompting more detail, “Yes?”

  I respond as if I misunderstood and am simply agreeing with his question, “Yes.” A low ripple of giggles runs through the class, instantly silenced by the raise of his hand.

  His voice drops slightly, more serious again.

  “That is an answer worthy of the first lesson in this class, but not for the final year exam. Listen closely, Victoria. And all of you, write this down.”

  “In any system, whether it is a game, a machine, or software, logic is what makes it work. Setting logic means deciding how the system responds to certain conditions. You are not guessing. You are not hoping. You are setting rules, clearly and consistently.”

  “Why do we do this? Five reasons.”

  “One: Logic gives you control. You define what happens and when. There are no surprises.”

  “Two: Automation. Once logic is set, the system can run without you. That is a very powerful. That can scale.”

  “Three: Problem solving. Good logic breaks big problems into small decisions. This is how we build algorithms.”

  “Four: Stability. Without logic, systems break. They become unpredictable. Logic gives structure. It prevents failure.”

  “Five: Clarity. In complex systems, many parts must work together. Logic is how they communicate, what each part expects and delivers.”

  “Think of it like a circuit: input, condition, output. That is logic. That is system design. If your logic is clear, your system will be clear. If your logic is weak, your system will fall apart. That is why we set logic. This is more along the lines of an exam response I would expect from my final year students.”

  I scrawl it all down word for word, my handwriting growing messier with every line. Well, he knows how to count to five. I mean, if he’d just asked for a list of reasons or examples, I would’ve given them. I don’t know why he expects me to be able to read his mind.

  We spend the rest of the period writing notes and revising what we’ve covered throughout the year. The classroom feels more still today. Even the wilder students are unusually focused. Maybe everyone’s starting to feel the pressure with the looming exams.

  Eventually, the school bell chimes. Mr Ito wraps up by suggesting that we review the material he didn’t have time to cover today and then dismisses the class with a final nod. He is the first one to leave, striding out the door before any of us have stood up. He probably has a scheduled time to get home to his family and coordinate their evening calendar.

  Claudia and Jono are already gone by the time I get to the front of the classroom. I wander out through the hallway and stop by the front entrance to wait for Ernie.

  I take my phone out of my bag while I wait and see a new message from him.

  Tryouts might run late today. Roz said she’d stay and watch me so I’m not on my own.

  Urgh, he took his uniform to try out, did he? I should’ve expected that Roselyn would talk him into going, and of course I forgot tryouts were today. I pocket my phone and sigh. I guess I’m heading up to the roof after all. So many stairs.

  I’ll have to message Claudia goodbye later.