I woke up feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Today was my first official day of classes, and I wanted to make a good impression. After a quick shower, I dressed in a simple yet professional outfit, hoping to strike the right balance between approachable and serious.
As I stepped outside, the morning air was crisp and refreshing. I followed the paths I had walked yesterday, now more familiar with the layout of the grounds. The school was coming to life, with students heading to their respective classes and greeting each other with enthusiasm.
My first class was in one of the older buildings, its architecture a blend of elegance and history. I arrived early, finding a seat near the middle where I could observe both the professor and my classmates. The room gradually filled with students, all chatting excitedly. I recognized a few faces from the garden yesterday, but they were too engrossed in their conversations to notice me.
Just as the clock struck nine, the door opened, and Professor Delacroix walked in. Her presence commanded immediate attention, and the room fell silent. She placed her materials on the desk and looked around, her gaze sharp but not unkind.
"Good morning, everyone," she began, her voice clear and steady. "Welcome to Introduction to Culinary Arts. My name is Professor Delacroix, and I will be your instructor for this course."
She proceeded to outline the syllabus, explaining the structure of the class, the key topics we would cover, and the expectations she had for us. Her passion for culinary arts was evident, and it was infectious. I found myself leaning forward, eager to absorb every word.
"We will start today with a basic yet fundamental skill: knife techniques," she announced, gesturing to a table laden with various vegetables and cutting boards. "Mastering this will be essential for everything we do in the kitchen."
We spent the next few hours practicing different cuts under her watchful eye. She moved through the room, offering tips and corrections with a patience that I appreciated. My initial nervousness faded as I focused on the task at hand, finding a rhythm with the knife that was both satisfying and meditative.
During a short break, I introduced myself to a few classmates, exchanging pleasantries and sharing our backgrounds. It was comforting to connect with others who shared my passion for cooking, and I felt a sense of camaraderie forming.
After class, as I was packing up my things, Professor Delacroix approached me. "Jiyeon, may I have a word with you?"
"Of course, Professor," I said, slightly apprehensive but curious.
"I noticed your technique today. You have a natural talent, but there's always room for improvement. Would you be interested in some one-on-one sessions? I think you could really excel with a bit of extra guidance."
I was taken aback by her offer. "That sounds amazing, Professor. I would love that."
"Great," she said, her smile warm and genuine. "Meet me in the kitchen lab this evening after dinner. We'll go over some advanced techniques."
"Thank you so much, Professor. I really appreciate it," I said, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of classes and new information. My next session was Baking Fundamentals, held in a modern kitchen lab. The instructor, Chef Martinez, was a jovial man with a contagious enthusiasm for pastries. His demonstrations were both educational and entertaining, and I found myself laughing along with the rest of the class. We spent the afternoon mixing dough, shaping bread, and learning about the science behind baking. By the end of the session, the kitchen was filled with the mouth-watering aroma of freshly baked bread.
As the day drew to a close, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. The hands-on experience, the engaging instructors, and the vibrant community of students made me feel like I was exactly where I needed to be. After a quick dinner in the cafeteria, I made my way to the kitchen lab for my session with Professor Delacroix.
"I missed you too," Yura replied, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "How was your first official day of classes?"
"It was amazing," I said, recounting my classes and the new techniques I had learned. "Professor Delacroix is incredible, and Chef Martinez is so much fun. I can't wait to show you what I've learned when I get back."
Yura listened intently, her eyes sparkling with pride and excitement. "I'm so happy for you, Jiyeon. It sounds like you're really enjoying it."
"I am," I admitted. "But I miss you so much. It feels strange being here without you."
"I miss you too," she said softly. "But we're both doing what we love, and that makes it a little easier, right?"
"Right," I agreed, feeling a bit more reassured. "Oh, and guess what? Professor Delacroix offered to give me some one-on-one sessions to help improve my techniques."
Yura's expression shifted slightly, a hint of concern in her eyes. "One-on-one sessions? With Professor Delacroix?"
"Yes," I said, not noticing her tone. "She's really knowledgeable, and I think it will help me a lot."
"Hmm," Yura murmured, her gaze distant. "Just be careful, okay? She's an omega, and sometimes...well, just be careful."
I frowned, not quite understanding her worry. "Of course, Yura. There's nothing to worry about."
"I trust you, Jiyeon," she said, forcing a smile. "It's just...I can't help but feel a little jealous."
"There's no need to be jealous," I reassured her. "You know you're the only one for me."
"I know," she sighed. "I just miss you so much."
"I miss you too," I said, feeling a pang of longing. "But we'll get through this. It's only a month."
"Right," she agreed, her smile returning. "We can do this."
We spent the next hour catching up. The distance between us seemed to shrink with every word, and by the time we said goodnight, I felt a renewed sense of strength and determination.
As I prepared for bed, I reflected on the day's events.The room was quiet, the night outside still and calm. I closed my eyes, feeling a sense of peace wash over me.