January 19, 2021: Ikigai

"This semester's project will be to create your own non-fictional novel."

The professor's announcement earned the jeering of all her students. It did not help that the class had a population of 150, so hushing them down was always quite the task for the middle-aged woman.

"What? Professor, isn't that a bit unreasonable?"

"Please spare us. My majors are already killing me this early in the sem!"

"Are there any alternatives?"

"I think I can drop this class. It's just an elective, maybe there are some others that are still accepting."

Complaints were heard left and right, creating an unsavory cacophony within the lecture hall. Meanwhile, Ms Fulman chose to remain silent and waited for the fuss to die down. It took several minutes before the students noticed their professor's stance, finally giving her an opportunity to explain.

"Well, thank you for letting me speak in my own class. Let me reiterate, your final project would be a non-fictional novel. A minimum of 50,000 words partitioned into at least 20 chapters. I want it handwritten on a legal-sized bond paper."

In spite of the fact that they were reluctant to accede, the students noted the important details of their professor's announcement.

"I will not be conducting periodical inspections of your progress. That is also too troublesome on my end. There will be solely one written examination in this class which is the final exam. Starting next week, our Tuesday classes will be your free day, so the lot of you will be coming to my class only once a week, during Thursdays."

The compensations presented by Ms Fulman were favourable enough for the majority of the students. They couldn't let the sweet opportunity pass. If half of the class days of one subject were taken down from their schedule, and it having one exam to boot, they would have the time to spend on their other arrangements.

Lack of oppositions, minimal at best, was due to these advantages. One student even raised their hand to inquire.

"Professor, is there a main theme that we are supposed to follow?"

"Oh yes, thank you for reminding me. Alright, the theme for your project is-"

Ms Fulman picked up her marker and removed its cap. She then went towards the whiteboard and started to write. When she finished, two words were written neatly in cursive handwriting.

"Denouncing Fate -- That is what I would like to see from your works."

Syn, who had discreetly settled at the very back of the lecture hall, had a deadpan expression on her face as usual. However, it was not boredom or disinterest in what was happening in the class. In fact, she had been contemplating how she'd be approaching the project.

'It will be bothersome if it is the biography of someone, since researching will double the workload. What about recent events? Though I don't think they will fit the theme.'

As she eagerly pondered on her approach, an idea popped into her mind all of a sudden.

'I should just relay the story of my life. It's probably what the professor wants us to do in the first place. Considering that a VIP client had agreed to sign a contract with me, I can squeeze in an hour of writing in between my classes and duties. More than enough time if the client decided to not allow me to work though.'

She smiled to herself, contented with the conclusion she arrived at. Syn had never written a single story in the past, on account of not having the time to spare for a hobby. She devoted her childhood up to her teenage years to taking care of her siblings. She became a substitute for her mother whenever she was able, owing to their mother who was busy bouncing around several jobs.

Syn had begun to look forward to the end product of her project. Still and all, she abruptly realized what kind of life she has been living.

'I can confidently say that honest and pleasant are the least appropriate words to illustrate what I've been through. Will she even take an interest in my story?'

Soon, her musing was interrupted when the professor slammed her hands on the table.

"A warning to the lazy ones out there. I might not know whether you made your project yourself or not. There are those of you who are willing to pay freelance workers to make your projects."

Before continuing, she swept the entire lecture hall with her gaze. It was as if she was already incriminating her students of the offense.

"When I do discover that you did not personally write the novel, that will automatically credit you a failing grade in this class. For those who happen upon an act such as this, report it to me with ample evidence, then I will reward you with an exemption in taking the final examinations. What are your questions?"

Ms Fulman paused for a while, waiting to see if there were anybody who had unanswered queries or doubts regarding the project. Following a couple of minutes of waiting, she nodded her head.

"None? Alright, I will dismiss the class early. Have a good day." The professor said as she exited the room.

The students commenced their own dismissal rituals. Some hurried for the door whilst the others stayed behind to chat with their peers.

For the duration of the other students' departure, Syn merely gazed at the doorway. She bided until doors were steered clear of the crowd. She then peered on the screen of her phone to look at the time.

'It is only half-past six. I guess I will grab a bite ahead of my next shift. I could use a breather. The meeting with Mr O' Connor is scheduled for 11 pm. I could only hope that it will end with just the introductions. It has been a rough week for me.'

Thereafter, she lingered in her seat for a few minutes more Shortly, she pushed her chair back, stood up, and made her way to the door while oblivious of the stares that she was getting.

Syn was an exceptional beauty, so there was no doubt that people's eyes would be drawn to her.

She had jet black hair, unintentionally evoking the appearance of tidal waves. She had no time to fix it, the reason why it was a tad disheveled. It reached just the base of her long, slender neck, giving emphasis to her small face.

Her protracted eyelashes, casting shadows on the droopy eyes beneath her straight eyebrows, had complimented more of her delicate features, along with her slim nose and full lips that gave the impression of a pink Lisianthus in full bloom.

Syn's collarbones were peeking through her shirt -- that had the two top buttons undone -- gently embracing the curves of her lean arms; voluptuous bosoms followed by a delicate waist, and her svelte-looking lower limbs from the tight pair of pants she was wearing -- It would make any man mistake her for a Siren.

Nevertheless, no one would be able to restrain themselves when her naked physique flaunts the voluminous buttocks and thighs it was hiding; all covered by a fair skin similar to the surface of a rose Akoya pearl, yet feathery to touch.

Every part of her body was molded to ignite the imagination of anyone that became imprisoned by her allure. Having these assets pretty much was the deal sealer in her rumination of whether to accept the job in the escorting agency or not.

No, that was a lie.

In truth, she didn't really care much about her appearance. When a chance to utilize it to earn money came up, she welcomed it in a heartbeat. Being in the industry for a while made her apathetic of civility and the morale of the normal citizen.

From the very beginning, she was the type to move at her own pace.

The instant that she was out of the university's premises, Syn felt her stomach grumble.

'I won't have the time to eat after my next shift, better eat now or I'll embarrass myself in front of the client. I'm pretty sure that the sound of my hunger cues won't help in making a good impression on that VIP Client.'