XIX gymnasium.

Monday:
The Law of God.
Latin (translation and grammar).
Russian language and literature (text analysis, essay).
Mathematics (algebra).
French language (conversational practice, reading).

Tuesday
Greek language (if the gymnasium is classical).
Mathematics (geometry).
History (world).
Physics.
Handwriting (more often in the lower grades, but in the 8th grade it could be given as practice in neat writing for exams).

Wednesday
Latin (syntax, analysis of complex text).
Russian language (stylistics, presentation).
Geography (physical and political).
German.
Natural science (basics of biology/mineralogy).

Thursday
The Law of God.
Mathematics (repetition, advanced problems).
History (domestic).
Latin (reading of an ancient author with commentary).
Drawing or sketching (practice for precision and accuracy; mandatory in some schools).

Friday
Greek (if any) / Latin.
Russian language and literature (analysis of poetic text).
Physics (laboratory practice or analysis of experiments).
French language (dictation, grammar).
German language (reading and translation).

Saturday
Mathematics (test or analysis of mistakes of the week).
History (preparation for the seminar, working with sources).
Latin (final assignment: short written translation).
Free time for consultations and retakes (or extracurricular reading according to the program).

Phil is the one who fixes everything and knows about technology. His uniform is casual (sleeves rolled up, tie loosened), his dark blond hair is tousled, and he carries straps and a multi-tool on his wrist. His gaze seems to scan for anything that can be adjusted. He doesn't strive to be in the center, preferring to hang out near a wall or a door—where he can fix something. He speaks briefly and to the point: "It's jammed here," "Don't touch it, I can do it myself." He keeps a notebook with a diagram of the school—not about gossip, but about hatches, panels, creaky floors, and secret passages. He's not afraid of monsters, but when everything breaks and he can't fix it. He doesn't panic when stressed—he looks for a lever, a wire, a button; his way of helping is to restore the system to working order. He likes order in small things: so that wires don't dangle and tools are close at hand.

A strict, but not ostentatious uniform; dark hair pulled back simply—behind the ears or in a low ponytail; attentive dark brown eyes; holds herself evenly, as if always prepared for the unexpected. Notices the smallest details—strange shadows, slight creaks, someone's quick glances. Speaks rarely, but only on the matter—everyone takes her "something's not right here" seriously. Keeps a notebook with dry observations (time, facts, details), without gossip or fantasies. Doesn't seek adventure and doesn't try to please—it's important to her to notice danger in time. Under stress, she doesn't fuss, but becomes more collected: her voice is quieter, her movements are more precise, her gaze is sharper. Knows how to calmly distribute tasks: she doesn't command, but assigns precise roles ("you are the window, I am the corridor").

A toady that everyone dislikes. A perfectly ironed uniform, a tight ponytail, polished shoes; a face that seems deliberately "nice"—a slight smile, a diligent gaze; she holds herself leaning forward, as if ready to jump up and help. Desperately wants to be liked and needed, says only the "right" things, keeps a "book of good deeds," and is afraid of going unnoticed. Not mean, but unbearably clingy; when stressed, she begins to fidget and rush around.

The third in Maria and Katya's company. She's bright, even in her uniform—a flashy scarf, unusual details; dark hair in a loose ponytail; a lively, active face; always on the move—twirling a pen, tapping her foot. Loud and straightforward, her energy is overflowing, she can flare up over the slightest thing, but if she's proven wrong, she calmly agrees: "Okay, you're right. What do we do next?" She's loyal to her people to the core, dreading boredom and futility. She keeps a notebook with ideas for "quests" around the school, and sees opportunities everywhere, not problems.

In trio:
With Maria: an eternal semi-argument—Maria for silence and control, Dunya for movement and risk; but at a critical moment, Dunya does what Maria doesn't dare.
With Katya: Katya gently grounds her—quietly stops her, and Dunya, though she sighs, slows down.

Maria's best friend. A perfect school uniform with neat details (a bright bow, an owl brooch, patterned knee-highs); light hair in sleek braids; an open, smiling face; gray-green eyes—they alternately sparkle with joy and cool composure. She is unconditionally devoted to Maria, gossiping not out of malice, but for the sake of "we know everything." At heart, she is soft and caring: she brings cookies, straightens her collar, and remembers when her friend is having a hard time. She is afraid of losing Maria, so she tries to be exactly the kind of friend she needs. She notices emotions better than facts and keeps a diary of "good moments." She dislikes open confrontation, but if someone attacks Maria, she becomes firm and says clearly: "Don't do that to her."

Alexander: His uniform fits sloppily (his jacket is too big, his tie is loose), his dark hair falls over his forehead, and he has a posture that suggests he's trying to be less noticeable. He didn't choose to attend school, he's straightforward, doesn't like gossip, but he's keen on spotting loopholes in the rules. His primary concern is protecting his sister. When stressed, he becomes extremely focused.

Alexandra (Sasha): Appearance: neat, but seems to be trying to take up less space; light hair in two braids; large gray-blue eyes; often hides her hands in her sleeves—it makes her feel more comfortable. Personality: quiet, very observant, afraid of being a burden. Keeps a sketchbook with quick sketches, clings to the schedule like an anchor, speaks little, but conveys her thoughts through notes and drawings. Gravitates to those who don't push. In the team: with Finn, she shares a common language in small details, with Alfred, a quiet understanding, with Elena Vladimirovna, she gets "quiet anchors" (a seat by the window, quiet errands). Relationship with Maria: Maria tries to use Sasha for gossip, but it doesn't work—Sasha doesn't gossip. She treats Alexander with disdain for "not knowing how to play by the rules"; he simply ignores her.
A brief moment: during a noisy recess, Sasha stands by the board with the schedule, as if it were protecting her. Alexander stays slightly ahead, like a shield. Fin silently hands Sasha a piece of paper with a quiet route to a quiet classroom. Sasha nods, her shoulders slumping slightly. Alexander thanks her with a look: "Thank you for not pressuring me." And the three of them walk together—slowly but confidently—to where it will be quieter for five minutes.

The class's biggest gossip, she's at odds with Eric and secretly in love with Adler. She sports an impeccable school uniform (dark blue skirt, white shirt, and cardigan), sleek dark hair pinned neatly, porcelain features, a cold, penetrating gaze, and smooth, calculated movements. She loves to control and be in the know; she spreads gossip quietly but accurately. She's at odds with Eric—her revenge is subtle, but she's not without a glimmer of conscience. She's in love with Adler: she strives to be perfect in front of him and values ​​his stingy praise more than any compliment. She keeps an "influence archive"—a notebook with notes on other students. She's afraid of becoming invisible, so she stays at the center of things.

relationship:
With Eric: open hostility, petty dirty tricks, but sometimes she unconsciously covers for him - and then immediately pretends that she “just told the truth.”
With Finn: he keeps his distance from her and doesn't give any clues; she tries to find out something, but to no avail.
With Alfred: she feels awkward - it seems to her that he sees right through her.
With Adler: she tries her best to be perfect; his "Good" is her highest reward.
With Elena Vladimirovna: she behaves correctly, but still tries to spread rumors; Elena gently puts her in her place.

A schoolgirl who sees a story in everything. Short, erect posture; dark honey-colored hair pulled back into a neat bun (she tucks any loose curls behind her ear); amber, lively eyes. She wears a formal uniform: a dark blue knee-length skirt, a white collared shirt, a dark gray cardigan, and comfortable shoes. Under her collar is a thin cord with a non-working compass (she only lets it out on "special" days). Her backpack is dark blue and modest, with a notebook and mechanical pencil at her side. She sees adventure in the ordinary, tells stories in a whisper—and everyone falls silent. She's not afraid of monsters, but of missing something important. She keeps a "Book of Stories": she records not facts, but sensations ("the shadow seemed to laugh," "the door creaked, as if it wanted to say something"). Gives names to things (a pencil is called Quiet, a compass is called Navigator). She doesn't tolerate the condescending "You're making things up again": she firmly replies, "I'm not making things up. I see." She twirls a pencil in her fingers and fidgets with her bracelets when she's nervous; she hands out scraps of phrases to her friends as prompts; when stressed, she doesn't panic, but rather gathers everyone together with the words, "Listen. Here's what we know."

Adler is a stern German, rude on the outside, but secretly partial to Eric. *

• Appearance: *Tall, with a military bearing; short hair, graying at the temples, sharp features; always in a strict uniform, everything perfect—from buttons to cuffs; a heavy, appraising gaze.

• Personality: He speaks briefly and harshly, does not tolerate fuss and excuses, and adores perfect order. His highest praise is "That'll do" or "This time it's even." Secretly respects and is even proud of Eric's lack of composure. He keeps an old photograph in his wallet—a personal anchor to keep himself in check.

He is mute, but hears and understands speech perfectly. He is inconspicuous, wears a dark gray uniform, and has an attentive gaze. His hands are almost always occupied with something small (a button, a pebble). He maintains a calm demeanor, without making any sudden movements. He responds with nods, head shakes, or short notes in a notebook. He notices falseness in facial expressions and gestures and prefers simple and clear phrases. He knows the schedule from the vibrations and behavior of those around him. He uses objects as signals: a pebble means "be careful," a shifted notebook means "look here." He does not tolerate others deciding "how he feels" for him. If someone says, "You must be sad," Alfred frowns and shakes his head. He does not need pity—he needs to be listened to with the eyes and noticed.

The homeroom teacher. Around 45 years old, dark brown hair in a neat bun, gray-green eyes (gray is more severe, green is calmer), a formal but not pretentious outfit, a strand of pearls, glasses on a chain. She walks confidently and moves quietly. Calm, precise in her words, and does not tolerate injustice. She notices small things, but does not always make comments—sometimes she will just quietly ask, "Is everything alright?" Believes that discipline is a support, not a cage. She likes it when people argue on the topic and gives them a chance to make things right. She writes short comments in the margins, not just grades; keeps "spare" small items (chocolate, handkerchiefs, a pen) in her desk; she can stand so quietly that even Eric does not notice her until she speaks. She writes letters to her past self. Once a year, at the end of the term, she writes down: "What worked," "Where I went wrong," "Who I missed." This is her way of avoiding burnout: recognizing that she's not perfect, but she's trying. She has a "one-minute rule." If a student is silent at the board, she doesn't rush or save them right away, but gives them exactly one minute of silence. She says, "Sometimes an idea comes when you stop being afraid." This works with both the timid and the bold: Eric is initially irritated by this pause, but then catches himself thinking that he actually has time to think. She keeps old class journals. She keeps notebooks from previous issues in her closet: she sometimes flips through them to remember how similar situations were resolved before. For her, this isn't nostalgia, but an "archive of experience": "If this helped then, let's try it now." She knows how to "slow down" her voice. If the noise in the classroom increases, she doesn't raise her voice, but rather speaks more quietly and slowly. This makes everyone listen intently: when an adult isn't shouting, it becomes even more frightening not to hear.

Eric's best friend, his complete opposite. Bright red curly hair, a scattering of freckles, amber-brown eyes, slightly shorter than Eric. He wears his school uniform neatly, but his curls still make him look mischievous. Fin is calm, attentive, doesn't pick fights, but knows how to quietly help out. He patiently endures Eric's outbursts, notices little things, believes in good signs (a smooth pebble, the first bird). In his pocket is a tiny screwdriver and thread: he loves to fix and figure out how things work. Sometimes he hums to himself - this calms even Eric. He blushes at praise, but blossoms with trust. If Eric says, "I couldn't have done it without you," Fin hides a smile, fidgets with a button and mutters, "Oh well," but then he remains confident for a long time. He writes letters to his grandmother. Every weekend, he carefully scribbles notes about school, teachers, and city news—and not a word about pranks. It's his "blank slate": a place where he can simply be a good boy, and it helps him hold on when everything around him is going wrong. He's terrified of loud arguments. He can handle fights and shouting without a care, but when Eric gets angry and says hurtful things in the heat of the moment, Fin seems to cringe: for him, the harsh words hurt more than the blow. So he always tries to turn everything into a joke or take Eric somewhere quiet. He writes letters to his grandmother, but sometimes, instead, he draws a map of the city. Tiny diagrams appear in the margins, with captions like "there's a hole here," "the guard doesn't walk here." This is how he copes with anxiety: if you draw a path, it no longer seems impossible. He loves old street games. He knows counting rhymes, the rules of hide-and-seek in narrow courtyards, how to measure distance in steps, and how to tell time by the shadow. This makes him a landmark in the city: he knows where he can hide, where he can’t, and how many minutes the journey will take.

Bold, stubborn, sharp-tongued, and impulsive. He loves adventure and hates boring lessons. He's fair but caustic: he can tease, but won't bully the weak. He wears a shabby uniform and carries an adventure novel and a penknife in his pocket. He's a ringleader at school: he's never boring, but there's always something going on. At home, he gets scolded, and the teachers simply sigh.

Eric has a handsome appearance, his dark blond hair always tousled, with an unruly lock always sticking out over his forehead. His pale skin added to his beauty. His gray eyes were as if cloudy weather had covered the blue sky. His facial features were sharp. He has his own "code." He doesn't snitch to teachers, even if he's threatened with solitary confinement, and he doesn't abandon his friends in trouble—for him, it's a matter of honor, although he doesn't utter such pompous words. He knows a ton of urban legends and anecdotes. And he readily tells them to the kids in a secluded corner of the courtyard—that's why he's considered "one of them" by most of his classmates. He's afraid of thunderstorms. Thunder and lightning literally paralyze him: the bold, sharp-tongued Eric becomes quiet during a thunderstorm and tries to stay close to people—this vulnerability works perfectly in tense scenes. He's a master of small tricks. He knows how to steal a key from a supervisor, forge a signature in the duty log, and open almost any school locker. He does this not for profit, but for the thrill of it and to help out his friends. He quarrels with his father about his future. At home, they see him as a civil servant or a lawyer, but he wants neither a career nor a "decent job." Because of this, he keeps a letter in his desk that he rewrites every time after another argument—and never sends it. He writes with his left hand, but pretends to be right-handed. At the gymnasium, left-handedness is considered "incorrect," so he cleverly switches hands: in public, he writes with his right, and in a secluded place, with his left, and then his handwriting comes out livelier and sharper. This can be played out in a scene where someone accidentally notices this detail and realizes: Eric is not as carefree as he wants to appear. A strict father, and even very

Eric, Finn, Elena Vladimirovna (teacher), Alfred, Adler, Mia, Maria, Katya, Anna, Dunya, Lisa, Alexander, Alexandra, Camila, Phil