“So,” Lyviria broke the silence. “Who wants to partner with me?”

“What about you, Lyviria? Do you have someone you prefer to be with?” I asked.

“Not at all, so it’s up for you all to decide; though it seems Notemi won’t mind how it goes either,” Lyviria pointed out. I looked at Notemi and she maintained the same air around her—paying no mind to how the partners will be chosen; with or without her choice. It was now a competition between me and Kemia.

“But didn’t Kai say something about not being with who you’re most comfortable with?” Kemia said. “So who are you most uncomfortable with, Laizen?”

I felt the foundation of my being begin to crack as I steadfastly clung onto the name of the only person I didn’t want to be with, not letting the syllables escape through my lips. I realized that I was the only one with a preference since I’m sure Kemia wouldn’t mind being with any of us. Strangely, I felt more threatened by Kemia than Ruyo. Compared to being called out by bluntness, being in the vicinity of Kemia's open personality meant she had nothing to hide, which made me uneasy.

Before long, the innocence of Kemia ruptured my dam and I uttered “Notemi” with a defeated face. It seemed like she knew my answer already, but to my surprise, there was no laughter or teasing around the table.

“Notemi, you mentioned choosing a partner based on who we want to be with for a long time. You don’t mind being with Laizen, do you?” Kemia asked.

“Nope,” Notemi said.

“Then it’s settled, let’s go, Lyviria!” Kemia said as she hugged her new partner around the shoulders. Lyviria and I faced each other, and I nodded with a faint smile. Both of them stood up and exited through the door to the dim, spacious hall.

Welp, looks like I have to deal with another Ruyo, but worse when she finally gets her energy back.

“Now you’re stuck with me, the Uncomfortable. Welcome to my abode,” Notemi said.

Oh, it’s starting.

“Would you like a piece of me, or a piece of me?”

I must be dreaming.

“Sir? You are the last customer.”

Nope, still here.

“Oi, whadja dink you dooin’ starin’ off ‘nto space loik dat?”

I looked to the left where Notemi now stood—in the aisle with her blue scarf around her neck and hands in the pockets of her hazel trench coat.

“Did a dam release you after everyone left?” I asked.

“I’m still here!” the Integrator shouted from his teacher’s desk. He flung himself upright and hopped off the temporary hard bed he made for himself. “Quickly, let’s get out of here.”

“Let’s get moving, too, male partner Laizen,” Notemi said.

“You don’t have to make the obvious more obvious, or add extra adjectives, female partner Notemi,” I told her. “I’m also going to stay back for a moment; I want to ask the Integrator something.”

“If you insist, humorless boring male partner Explorer Laizen,” she said, taking her leave out the door.

After recuperating from the interaction, I stood from my seat and swung my backpack over my shoulder. I faced the Integrator, who was ready to walk out, but picked up on my movement’s intention.

“Yes, Laizen?”

“I want to know about intuition. What is it?” I asked.

“We can talk while we walk to the bus. Come.” He held the door and allowed me to walk into the hall. As I passed by, he answered. “Intuition is a form of computation. Since you have a background in engineering, take the example of adding five or more numbers. Instead of writing it down or calculating it in your head, there is an instinctual knowing of the sum of those numbers. There is no need to perform any steps—it’s a zero-step process.”

So I was right! It is possible to skip steps. “How can I do that? To understand without taking any steps?”

“You will need a much more specific question than that. In return, I have a question for you—why do you want to know about intuition?”

I contemplated for an answer while we strolled down the arched hallway, our soft footsteps echoing in its grandeur. Why did I want to know about intuition? I recalled my frustration on Integration Day—how class was not fun, and how Professor Lorraine concretized my feeling on why my studies no longer remained for me because nothing was fresh and new.

“Because using logic seemed futile and effortful. I wanted to grasp things on the fly without going through many unnecessary steps,” I answered.

“If that is your reason I cannot give you an answer,” he said. “But, for the time being, you can stop using logic. You’re not in school anymore; you are here. If you want to go back, then I can assist you in that endeavor as well.”

“No, that’s alright,” I chuckled, “and what do you mean by I can stop using logic? Can you specify?”

“It is exactly what I said—you don’t have to use logic or intellect all the time, otherwise it will bring about frustration and expectations. Use it only when you need to, but knowing how and when to use it will be the greatest gift that you have, Laizen. You can think of this as your first baby step.”

I did not tell the Integrator about what I felt, but he seemed to understand the consequences of its overuse and inferred my situation correctly. Which leads me to wonder if his prediction of our partners came true? There was no way that he would know about Kailus’ suggestion to be with someone we were uncomfortable with, nor Notemi’s suggestion that we should choose a lifetime partner. My partnership only fulfilled one of those criteria.

And knowing how and when to use logic? How do I even start when I don’t know where logic begins or ends? More questions and mysteries flowed into me from my lack of understanding of the suggestions he imparted, and I was grounded back into reality when the Integrator started speaking with the lady who greeted me when I first arrived in the lobby.

She had a loose white shirt and pants that gave her a freedom so eager that she could ride the wind. But her choice to remain here to watch for guests was just as freeing—she smiled, greeted, and bowed goodbye to the Integrator. We walked outside and were greeted by the sun, which more or less remained stationary in the horizon since the morning. Then I remembered I was in Antarctica, and coming from North America, that meant the south pole was facing the sun during the winter months.

Sounds of crunching and grinding as we stepped on the tiny rocks beneath reverberated in my ears as the Integrator walked beside me. Approaching the gate at the front, I spot the glinting metal roof of the supposed bus on the road and the barely discernible silhouettes of people through its windows. As we walked closer, the front of the bus came into view and a familiar person stood and leaned underneath the window of the initial passenger seats.

“Took you long enough,” the black-robed young officer said.

“Oh, you’re driving me again? Where’s the old man?” I asked.

“Don’t be disappointed – he is enjoying his time off duty. I finally get a break from his mouth." The officer smiled and pointed his hand to the opened door for me and the Integrator.

“You have a wide variety of hired personalities,” I said to the Integrator.

“I can’t be all of them even if I wished to, so I let those who fit the role do their thing. Personality is just a little spice that comes with it,” the Integrator responded.

On the outside, the bus was similar in shape and material to the aerodynamic car in the morning, except it was longer and the front a bit pointier. Seeing such a large vehicle levitating was quite a sight, probably because I was with Olma who exuded heat and presence, compared to this vehicle which made no sound despite its size.

A clamor invited us the moment we stepped onto the platform and I turned to see everyone chatting. At the front were the three teachers, while behind them sat the other five candidates – sitting with their partners. The Integrator stepped forward and sat in the first passenger seat, and I walked down the aisle to Notemi, sandwiched between the row with Kemia and Lyviria in front, and Kailus and Olma in the back. I sat across the aisle from Notemi and rested my backpack as a proxy for a second individual.

Kailus peeked his head to the side of my seat in the aisle. “I was not expecting you to pair with Notemi.”

“Kemia took your advice to heart when you said I should pair with someone who I am uncomfortable with, and this is the result. Just don’t say anything the next time something like this happens; I didn’t expect Kemia to be this sharp.” I teased him with a punch in the shoulder.

Kailus chuckled. “No promises.”

“So you dislike me?” Notemi asked from the seat across the aisle.

“No you just remind me of someone from my life,” I answered.

“Hmm…” Notemi sounded out, looking at me with one unblinking eye.

“I know what you’re thinking, it’s not that. You’re like my friend who is too sharp; you’re probably sharper than him.”

“Oh, so I hurt you?”

“…Yes.”

“Good,” Notemi said, promptly ending the conversation with a smile. What does that even mean?

Soon after, I heard the door close shut and the officer cleared his throat through the announcing speakers. “Welcome aboard the vehicle known as the bus. The destination is to the newly named Explorer Island, created by yours truly. Fasten your butts to your seats because I removed every seat belt for your convenience.”

I looked down and saw the seat devoid of any straps. I looked over to the back of my seat to see Kailus, but he only shrugged at the matter. Looking into the seat in front of me from the side, Lyviria and Kemia sat with smiles and a thumbs up as if I were enjoying the ride with them. As for Notemi, she held the usual indifference.

“WOOO!” Olma shouted in the seat behind Notemi. Laughter erupted and both the teachers and the Integrator followed with cheers of joy. Everyone just wanted to die. Why?

From stillness, the bus jerked forward in acceleration and I was pushed back into my seat, imprinting my soul on the cushion as I tried to remain upright by clasping the edge of my seat. The angle of the bus increased along with its speed, while I continued to hold dearly onto my now angled seat as my butt was forced into the corner from both gravity and the bus’ acceleration. I attempted to take a glimpse at the rear view mirror to see what the officer was thinking, but his eyes were smiling and clearly lost in its act.

At this point, I had to find some comfort or nausea would take over, so I used my only friend—my knowledge of physics. Like a mantra, I repeated out loud, “Action and reaction. Action and reaction. Equal and opposite action and reaction.”

Notemi looked at me muttering and her laugh made it clear I was not from this planet. No amount of convincing of my origin would extinguish such energy. Her laugh blended into the rest of the cheers as I slowly refocused my attention to my mantra with closed eyes amid the chaos.

Once the bus stabilized back into a horizontal position, I was finally able to relax. My limbs became limp from the adrenaline and my body slumped down as I saw the heads of my fellow candidates pop out from the edge of each seat. They were all smiling.