By Monday, the buzz of the new school year had started to fade. In its place settled a quieter routine, the kind that came with the realization that the honeymoon was over—assignments were stacking up, and so was the pressure. Alexei "Alex" Nakamura sat in his usual spot, gaze level, expression unreadable. He could already tell something was coming from the way Mr. Harrison stood at the front of the classroom, holding a stack of papers like they were loaded dice.
"Alright, everyone. Settle down," Mr. Harrison said, raising his voice just enough to hush the murmurs. "For this segment on post-war economic miracles, we'll be doing group presentations. You'll work in pairs—and before anyone asks, I've already assigned the partners."
A collective groan rippled across the room, followed by the sound of bodies slouching and shoulders sagging. Alex sighed internally. Group work was always a gamble. He didn't mind the workload—but he did mind inefficiency, and collaboration often invited it.
Mr. Harrison began reading off names. "Tanaka Kenji and Suzuki Emi… Sato Yui and Lee Min-jun…"
Alex let the names blur together, gaze flicking to Katarina. She sat with her usual composure, hands folded neatly on the desk, back perfectly straight. Her face was unreadable, as always. Still, he wondered—who would be lucky enough to pair with her?
"…Nakamura Alexei and…" A pause. Mr. Harrison adjusted his glasses, squinting at the sheet. "…Volkov Katarina."
Alex's attention snapped back, and for a split second, his eyes met hers. Her expression didn't waver much—just the tiniest blink, the smallest twitch of her lips before they pressed into a flat line again. Was that surprise? Dismay? Hard to tell.
A ripple of amusement passed through the class. The cool, collected Alex and the icy, unreachable Katarina Volkov. An unexpected combo, and apparently an amusing one. From across the room, Kenji shot Alex a look that screamed you poor bastard—though not without a trace of envy.
Katarina tilted her head ever so slightly and muttered something under her breath in Russian. He caught it.
"Ну вот, приехали. С ним? Почему именно он? Хотя… он хотя бы не выглядит полным идиотом."(Well, here we are. With him? Why him of all people? Although… at least he doesn't look like a complete idiot.)
Alex bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a grin. That was almost a compliment, coming from her. More importantly, she hadn't dismissed him entirely. That was… a start.
Mr. Harrison kept going, oblivious to the silent dialogues crackling beneath the surface. "You'll have two weeks to prepare a twenty-minute presentation on a country's post-war economic development. Sign-up sheet's here at the front. Discuss with your partners, pick your country."
Chairs scraped, voices rose, students turned to their designated partners. Alex didn't move. He waited.
Katarina turned first, smooth and deliberate, her gaze sharp but neutral. "Nakamura-kun," she said, tone cool, formal. "It seems we are partners."
"Volkov-san," he replied, matching her evenness. "So it appears." He allowed a beat of quiet before adding, "Do you have a country in mind?"
Her eyes narrowed slightly in thought. "Japan is obvious, but predictable. Germany has historical depth. South Korea's trajectory is interesting too."
He nodded, already liking her analytical approach. "Germany's story—reconstruction, division, the Wirtschaftswunder—it's rich. But I agree, South Korea is compelling too."
"Германия… более сложная история, больше нюансов. Это может быть интереснее."(Germany… a more complex history, more nuances. That could be more interesting,)
She wasn't even talking to him now—just thinking aloud in Russian. Then her gaze refocused on him. "Germany, then?"
"Germany it is," he said. "Meet after school? Library?"
Her eyes flickered—briefly guarded, then calm again. "Wednesday. After class."
"Works for me."
Their exchange was efficient, professional. To anyone else, it was just two diligent students making a plan. But Alex could feel the undercurrent—like two strangers measuring each other in silence, both aware something was shifting beneath the surface.
As Mr. Harrison resumed fielding questions, Alex caught another soft murmur from Katarina.
"Ну что ж, по крайней мере, он кажется компетентным. Это могло быть намного хуже. Могли бы дать в пару с тем шумным парнем, который вечно рассказывает про свою рыбалку."(Well, at least he seems competent. It could've been worse. They might've stuck me with that loud guy who never shuts up about his fishing.)
Alex almost snorted. That loud guy was Kenji. He'd have to tell him—though he probably wouldn't. Kenji's ego was delicate.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Alex's focus kept drifting, not because of the project itself—he wasn't worried about that—but because of her. Katarina Volkov. The enigma. And now, his partner.
Wednesday came draped in soft rain, streaking the windows and dulling the world to a watercolor hush. When the final bell rang, students rushed out, umbrellas and chatter filling the hall. Alex waited, as he always did, letting the tide pass before rising.
When he reached the library, he found her already there. Of course she was. Sitting in a quiet corner near the window, back straight, a notebook open before her. She looked like she belonged there—calm, poised, her thoughts far away as she watched the rain trace lines on the glass.
"Volkov-san," Alex said softly.
She looked up, slightly startled. The distant look faded as she nodded. "Nakamura-kun. Please, sit."
He did. The table between them was large, polished, the kind that made you speak in a whisper. For a few moments, they didn't say anything. The quiet wasn't awkward—it was oddly comfortable.
Then she pushed the notebook toward him. "I've outlined a rough structure."
Her handwriting was stunning—clean, elegant, almost architectural. She'd broken the topic into sections: Pre-War Conditions, Post-War Devastation, Allied Occupation, Marshall Plan, the Ludwig Erhard Era, the rise of the Social Market Economy, and more.
Alex studied it, impressed. "This is a solid foundation. Very well thought-out."
A faint flush crept into her cheeks. Barely there, but he saw it. "Я просто люблю, когда всё по порядку. Хаос контрпродуктивен."(I just like things to be in order. Chaos is counterproductive.)
He smiled, just a little. "That makes two of us."
They slipped into discussion easily—too easily, maybe. They built on each other's thoughts, challenged and refined ideas, shared sources. She was sharp, efficient, but not dismissive. He liked that. She listened.
For a while, she didn't speak Russian at all. She was focused—tapping her pen, narrowing her eyes as she thought, occasionally scribbling something down. He noticed how she smiled—not openly, but faintly—when they cracked a particularly tricky part of the presentation structure.
It surprised him how fluid it all felt. The awkwardness from Monday had evaporated into the background hum of pages turning and rain falling.
They worked for over an hour. At some point, it didn't feel like "working with Katarina Volkov" anymore. It just felt like… working with someone who understood how his mind worked.
As they wrapped up, he mentioned visual aids. "We'll need historical photos, graphs. Something striking, but relevant."
Katarina nodded. "The university archive has a digital library. I'll check for high-quality images."
She paused, fingers grazing the edge of her notebook. "This went… smoother than I expected," she said, not looking at him.
Alex blinked, surprised by her honesty. "Likewise."
They sat in the hush a moment longer, the silence not demanding to be filled.
"See you Friday?" he asked, rising.
She nodded. "Friday."
As he walked out, he couldn't stop the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
For all her quiet judgments and Russian asides, Katarina Volkov was more than just the Ice Princess.
She was sharp. She was human.
And maybe, just maybe, this project wasn't going to be a chore after all.
[End Chapter 4]