The SEN102 lecture hall was a monument to fluorescent lighting and quiet dread. Software Engineering was a core class, less about the thrill of creation and more about the grim realities of process, documentation, and the fact that most projects fail not from bad code, but from bad planning.
Kairos walked in and did something that still felt novel, a quiet thrill running through him. He didn't scan for his friends. He made his way directly to the row where Ares was already seated, her notebook open and pen poised. She looked up as he approached, and a small, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips before she returned her attention to the front. He slid into the seat beside her. Sitting together in class. It was a simple thing, but it marked a new, public layer to their partnership.
Across the hall, near the back, his friends were enacting their usual pre-class ritual. Robin was already looking drowsy, Sam was organizing his pens with military precision, and Drake was subtly trying to sketch the professor. They noticed Kairos with Ares. Robin gave a thumbs-up that was more of a jerk as Sam elbowed him to be quiet. Kairos offered a slight, embarrassed wave before turning his attention forward.
Dr. Adebayo, a man whose voice could lull a caffeine-addled student into a trance, was droning on about the Capability Maturity Model Integration. "The goal is to move from an ad hoc, chaotic process to a measured, predictable one..."
Kairos stifled a yawn. Chaotic process sounded a lot more fun. He glanced at Ares. She was listening with intense focus, her brow slightly furrowed. Of course she was. This was her native language.
"…and so," Dr. Adebayo concluded, snapping his textbook shut with a sound that echoed through the silent hall. "To illustrate the gap between theory and practice, and to assess your understanding of foundational requirements gathering, please take out a single sheet of paper."
A collective, silent groan rippled through the room. The sound of a hundred backpacks unzipping was like a wave of despair.
"An impromptu test," Ares murmured, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. "He didn't put this on the syllabus."
Kairos's heart did a familiar, unpleasant lurch. An exam. Unprepared. This was his brand of chaos. He fumbled for a blank sheet, his palms already starting to feel damp.
Dr. Adebayo wrote a single question on the whiteboard in large, clear letters:
"You are tasked with building a system for a campus library to manage book loans. Define the top five functional requirements. Justify the priority of your number one choice."
Kairos stared at the question. It was simple. Deceptively simple. His mind, however, was a browser with too many tabs open. Functional requirements? Like, what it should DO? But what about non-functional? What about scalability? What about the user interface for the librarians? Should I consider an API for integration with the university's main system?
He began to write, his thoughts a jumbled mess.
1. Users can check out books. Too vague!He scratched it out.
2. The system shall allow a librarian to authenticate a student via ID, scan a book ISBN, and record the loan transaction with a due date. Better.But was that one requirement or three?
He glanced sideways. Ares's pen was moving in a smooth, uninterrupted flow. She had already written three concise, numbered points. Of course she had. She probably had a mental template for this.
A frantic whisper carried from the back. "Dude, what's a functional requirement? Is that like, it needs electricity to function?" It was Robin, his voice a mix of panic and confusion. "Shhh!"Sam hissed back. "It's what the system does. Like... loaning a book!" "But how do you pick just five?"Drake whispered. "What about the font on the screen? That's important!"
The struggle of his friends was a distant echo of the chaos in his own head. But hearing their confusion somehow sharpened his own focus. He was sitting next to Ares. He was building a real-world application. He couldn't afford to think like a beginner.
Panic began to set in. This was his department. He was the coder. He was supposed to be good at this. But this wasn't coding; this was translating a vague idea into rigid, formal language. It was Ares's world, and he was just failing in it.
He forced himself to focus. What does it NEED to do? He thought about CampusFix. They'd started with the core: A user can report an issue. Everything else came later.
He took a deep breath and started again, his handwriting messy but determined.
1. Book Loan Transaction: The system must allow a librarian to record the lending of a book to a student, capturing student ID, book ID, and due date.
2. Return Transaction: The system must process the return of a book, updating its status to 'available'.
3. Search Inventory: Users (librarians/students) must be able to search the book inventory by title, author, or ISBN.
4. Status Tracking: The system must track the current status (available, checked out, overdue) of each book.
5. Overdue Management: The system must identify overdue books and associate them with the student borrower.
It was basic, but it was coherent. Now, for the justification. Why was loan transaction number one?
His mind went back to the geology lounge leak. The core function. The primary value. He wrote:
"The number one priority is the loan transaction because it represents the core business process of the library. Without the ability to check out books, the system has no fundamental utility. All other features, such as searching or managing overdues, are secondary to enabling this primary transaction. It is the atomic unit of the library's purpose."
He put his pen down as Dr. Adebayo called time. He felt drained, like he'd just debugged a particularly nasty race condition.
Ares gathered her things, her expression unreadable. "Well, that was unexpected," she said as they filed out of the lecture hall. Behind them, they could hear Robin moaning, "I totally blanked. I think I wrote 'make books good' as a requirement."
"Tell me about it," Kairos groaned, falling into step beside her. "I think I just proved I have the analytical skills of a stunned goat."
She looked at him, a curious smile on her face. "What did you put for your number one?"
"The basic loan transaction," he said. "It's the core. Like reporting an issue for us."
Ares's smile widened. "I put the same thing. And my justification was almost identical."
He stopped walking. "Really?"
"Really," she said. "You thought about it like a system. Not just a list of features. You identified the atomic unit." She bumped her shoulder against his. "Stunned goat, huh? Looked more like a competent software engineer to me."
The praise, so simple and direct, hit him with more force than any hackathon trophy. She wasn't just being nice. She was acknowledging a skill she respected, in her domain.
The imposter syndrome that had been creeping in during the test receded. He hadn't been an imposter in that room. He'd been a partner. They'd approached the same problem from different angles and arrived at the same, solid conclusion.
The pop quiz hadn't been a test of chaotic coding skill. It had been a test of foundational thinking. And for the first time in a class like that, Kairos felt like he might have actually passed. Not because he'd memorized the textbook, but because he'd lived the principles.
As they walked out into the sunlight, the anxiety of the test was gone, replaced by a quiet, steady confidence. He could navigate Ares's world of structure and planning. And she, it turned out, appreciated his ability to find the core of the chaos.
It was the most important integration test they'd passed all semester.