On the 15th of August, Thursday, it is a rest day. Finally!
The alarm stayed silent. The sun rose, but Jiro didn't have to chase it. For the first time since the week began, his legs weren't screaming from climbing stairs or cramping inside a tricycle.
He spent the day recharging his social battery, which had been drained to 15% by yesterday's interactions. He lay in bed, phone in hand, scrolling through feeds, enjoying the peace of the flicking light schedule.
Thursday is off. I love this server.
But while the physical campus was quiet, the digital campus was waking up.
5:19 PM.
Jiro's phone's screen was covered in message bubbles. Then again. And again. A rapid-fire assault of notifications from the KSU Taytay BEED 1-A Group Chat.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
Jiro sighed, tapping the notification. What now?
Hidy Medona (President): "Good afternoon, guys! Important announcements regarding our meeting earlier."
Mekayla Sano (Secretary): "Please read everything. React heart if noted."
The messages flooded in like a waterfall of text.
Hidy Medona: "We had a meeting with the COE Dean regarding our room assignment. Just an update, our official room is Room 406. Not 407 (the one in the COR). So please take note!"
Jiro stared at the screen.
Room 406?
So yesterday... we climbed four floors just to sit in the wrong room?
Nice.
Then came the Secretary's report. Mekayla Sano dropped a bulleted list that looked expensive.
Mekayla Sano: "Updates from the Officers Meeting:
Curtains: We need to change the curtains in the classroom to Green. (For all BEED).
Class Funds: 10 pesos per week. Our Treasurer, Lindsey Soliko, will collect this every Monday.
Flag Raising: Tentative schedule for us to represent BEED 1-A is on November 25.
Door Signages: Need to be updated."
Jiro did the mental math. Ten pesos a week. New curtains. Door signs.
We haven't even met a single professor, and we're already doing interior design?
Priorities.
Hidy Medona: "If you have any concerns regarding this, kindly reach out to me directly. See you tomorrow! 😊"
The chat went quiet for a few minutes. Then, the Secretary struck again.
Mekayla Sano: "Additional Info: Buwan ng Wika (Language's Month) event is coming up! Tentative schedule is August 29 to 30. Please prepare traditional outfits such as Barong, Filipiniana, or Kimono."
Jiro frowned. Barong? In this heat?
Can I just wear a camisa de chino and call it a day?
As if reading the collective reluctance of the class, the President sent a follow-up message, quoting a question she probably received via PM.
Hidy Medona: "'Can we not wear traditional outfits?' — All students are required to wear po. ^^"
The double caret smile. The polite killer.
Required. No escape.
The Group Chat fell into a submissive silence. Slowly, the heart reactions started popping up on the announcements. Jiro tapped a heart, just to be safe. Seen and noted.
The evening rolled on. Jiro thought the barrage was over.
10:09 PM.
Ping.
Hidy Medona: "Good evening! Tomorrow, by 1:00 PM to 3:00 PM, we'll be having an assembly regarding an activity organized by F.E.C. (Future Educators' Community). All students of COE are required to attend."
Assembly. Required. Again.
A classmate typed a reply—a brave soul asking the logical question.
Classmate: "Pres, we have a class during that time based on the portal schedule. Are we 'Excused'?"
Jiro nodded at his phone. Valid question. We finally have a scheduled class on Friday afternoon.
Hidy Medona: "YES! I'll coordinate tomorrow and give you the hard copy of the said excuse letters. We will try to photocopy them at the Dean's office. God willing, all of us have a hard copy by 11:00 AM. @everyone"
Then, a quick follow-up pinged before anyone could ask.
Hidy Medona: "What to wear: our school uniform, though some asked if it is allowed to wear white shirt but as of now, there is no approval yet from the upper heads so… uniform."
Jiro locked his phone and stared at the ceiling.
So tomorrow is Friday.
Math 1 (MMW) and NSTP 1 in the morning. Assembly in the afternoon. Wearing a uniform in the sweltering gym.
And somewhere in between, I need to get an excuse letter for a class that might not even happen.
As simple as that.
But the digital noise wasn't over. Another chat head popped up.
COF - BEEd 1A (Circle of Friends)
The inner circle was having its own crisis.
Ivyn Giron: "Uy, guys. Uniform tomorrow? I haven't washed mine yet... hehe."
Cosma Ibana: "I'll wear a white shirt. It's too hot for the uniform."
Ivyn: "Let's all wear white shirts!"
Cosma: "@everyone White shirts tomorrow? G?"
Niewi Voeliè: "Oumm."
Mira Palida: [Sent a GIF of an anime girl holding a heart saying YES]
Cosma: "Oki oki. White shirts it is."
Jiro watched the rebellion unfold.
A mutiny against the dress code. Bold.
Then, the topic shifted faster than Jiro could type a thumbs-up.
Mira: "Btw, for Buwan ng Wika... are we renting or buying Filipiniana?"
Ivyn: "How much is the rent?"
Mira: "Idk yet. Expensive probably."
Suddenly, a new message burst into the chat, interrupting the costume planning. It was Mona, apparently just waking up to the news from the main GC.
Mona Patori: [Forwarded Message from Hidy Medona: "What to wear: uniform po…]"
Mona: "Guys, the hell?! I haven't washed my uniform yet!"
Mona: "The heck, what should I do tomorrow?"
Jiro smirked. Panic mode activated.
Mona: "I won't wear a uniform. Just let them be."
Then, Ivyn—the same person who started the 'white shirt' agenda because her uniform wasn't washed—dropped the ultimate betrayal.
Ivyn: "It's a good thing I washed mine earlier."
Jiro shook his head. Friendship over laundry. Classic.
Ivyn quickly replied to Mona.
Ivyn: "Just wash it now! It'll dry quickly because of the fabric of our uniform ee."
Niewi: "True. As long as you put them in front of the fan, it'll dry once you wake up. Tested and proven."
The crisis shifted from wardrobe malfunction to time management.
Ivyn: "It is 8:30 AM us tomorrow noh?"
Niewi: "8 AM."
Ivyn: "But the schedule said 8:30 AM."
Ivyn: "8 AM really?"
Niewi:[Sent an image of the official schedule from their portal]
Niewi: "Yesss 8 AM. Because the schedule in our portal just emphasized the 8:30 AM, but it is really 8 AM. Adjust adjustment duh."
More chats flooded in, burying the time debate under layers of stickers and random thoughts.
10:33 PM.
A new notification appeared. It was Mira.
Mira: "I'll only wash my uniform right now. The hell."
Mira: "Otteookeee? Daaeebakk!!"
The group spam-reacted with laughing emojis. Late night panic energy.
Cicille: "Hotdog."
Mona: "Huh? Hajjaja."
Jiro watched the conversation scroll by—the randomness, the panic, the nonsensical replies. He didn't type a single word. He was the silent observer, the lurker in the digital room.
Seen.
He closed the app, plugged his phone into the charger, and let his dreams take over.
Sleep.
The 16th of August (Friday) came too soon.
Jiro woke up at 4:30 AM. He went through the usual motions—eat, shower, dress—but the dynamic was different. He was flying solo. His sister's schedule was in the afternoon, so the morning commute was a lone wolf mission.
He suited up in his iconic blue COE uniform, grabbed his lunch pack, and hoisted the heavy "Hulk" bag onto his shoulders.
He left home at 6:55 AM.
The commute was smooth. He arrived at the campus gate at 7:21 AM.
The entrance was busy. The guard was preoccupied, meticulously checking the CORs of a group of senior students.
Jiro didn't stop. He didn't hesitate. He just... walked.
He breezed past the guard, acting like he owned the place. No eye contact. No hesitation. Just smooth, aerodynamic walking.
Ghost Mode: Active.
He was already inside the building as he checked his phone and saw a message from his Circle of Friend's group chat.
Cicille: "Hala! I saw you! You just casually walked past the guard without checking your COR? Hahahaha!"
Jiro blinked, looking at the message that was sent five minutes ago.
Jiro: "Ay, really? Where were you? HAHAHAHAHA."
Stealth level: 100.
He pocketed his phone and faced his nemesis: The Stairs.
He stood at the foot of the DOWN ONLY staircase.
Rules... What rules?
Ascend.
He began his four-story hike once again at 7:30 AM.
When he finally reached the summit—the Fourth Floor—he stopped dead in his tracks.
The doors to Room 406 and Room 407 were right in front of the stairs, wide open
He peered into 406. White uniforms. Nursing students. He peered into 407. Blue uniforms. But they looked older. Third-year BEEd students.
Uhh... where is our room?
The hell.
Jiro walked down the hallway, checking every open door like a lost hotel guest.
406... Occupied.405... Occupied.404...
He peeked inside.
Ohh. They are there.
And voila.
Inside, the room was... partially deserted.
It wasn't just empty of people; it was empty of furniture.
Not enough seats.
There were barely any armchairs around. It looked like a room that had been looted.
He did a quick visual headcount.
Target population: 35 BEEd 1-A students.Current assets: Barely 14 armchairs.
And nine of them were already occupied by the early birds of the class.
Survival of the fittest.
Jiro didn't waste a second. He rushed in and threw his bag onto the nearest empty wooden chair.
Seat secured.
He pulled out his phone immediately.
COF - BEEd 1A (Circle of Friends)
Jiro: "We are in Room 404. No prof yet. But there are a few empty seats here."
A few minutes later, Niewi and Cicille arrived, breathless from the climb. They managed to snag two of the remaining chairs near Jiro.
8:08 AM.
A notification popped up. It was Mira.
Mira: "Hala! Wait! Reserve our seats pleaseee!"
Jiro looked at the dwindling number of chairs. Other students were trickling in, eyeing the empty spots like vultures.
Jiro: "Oh, there are only a few chairs here. So... it is first come first serve hahahaha."
Niewi: "True. We were lucky to secure seats early. Run faster!"
As more late students arrived, the reality set in. There were literally no seats left.
"Aw. No more seats," one classmate whispered, panicked.
They had no choice. They had to scavenge.
"Let's borrow from the other room," someone suggested.
A group of guys went out to Room 405 nearby and started hauling armchairs back into 404. It was a furniture heist. They carried the wooden chairs through the door, scraping them against the floor, creating a makeshift classroom setup.
And the bonus?
Jiro looked up at the ceiling. Two fans.
Nothing. The blades weren't spinning.
Dead.
Wow. It is literally Room 404. Error 404: Comfort not found.
Looted chairs plus broken fans. We are cooking in here.
They waited again. The heat rose. The chatter grew louder to compensate for the lack of ventilation.
9:30 AM.
Still no professor. But the digital world was active.
Hidy Medona (Section GC): "Good day again. Please remind this in your group chats."
Hidy Medona: "TODAY IS THE LAST DAY, AUGUST 16, 2024
Adding/Changing/DroppingEnrolling (incl. submission of enrollment requirements)
Filing and Paying for SLP
Paying Tuition Fee (for those who aren't covered by Free Tuition Fee)
Thank you."
Then, without context, someone sent an image file. It was Jachie Marello.
KSU's Vision and Mission.
Jiro stared at the image. Why send this now? Are we supposed to memorize this?
He wiped sweat from his forehead. Priorities, please. We need electric fans first.
9:53 AM.
The chatter in the room suddenly died down. All heads turned toward the door.
Finally.
The first professor had arrived.
But he didn't look like a professor.
He was a tall guy, standing about 5'9", with a very manly build. But his outfit... it was a statement. He was dressed like an idol on a music show stage. He wore a crisp white jacket coat left open, revealing a blue shirt inside, paired with stylish jeans and striking orange-brown shoes.
But it was the hair that made Jiro blink twice.
It was extraordinary. Spiky. And bright red.
He walked in wearing sunglasses. Indoors. A single Bluetooth earphone blinked on one ear. In his hand, he carried a small, organize box bag—likely containing his essentials: a mini fan, a phone, and whiteboard markers.
He strode to the front of the room with a swagger that commanded attention.
Jiro stared at him, bewildered.
Wait.
Is he really the professor we are expecting?
Or just an icon or idol who got lost on the way to a concert?
The man stood at the center, commanding the room without even trying. He cleared his throat.
"Alright, so is this BEED 1-A?" he asked, his voice smooth and modulated.
"Yes!" the class answered in unison, their voices trembling slightly.
"Okay, so good morning everyone!" He flashed a confident smile. "Today, I will be your professor in our subjects Mathematics in the Modern World and NSTP 1."
Two subjects. One guy.
"So, lemme introduce myself first."
He placed his small box bag on the table and opened it with the care of a surgeon preparing his tools. He fished out a whiteboard marker.
He turned to the board and wrote his name in small, sharp letters.
RICKY MANAZAKI
He capped the marker and turned back to face them.
"So, my name is Dr. Ricky Manazaki." He pointed to the board. "And you all should call me Doc. Not Sir. Understand?"
The class nodded, wide-eyed.
"Next time, if you try to call me 'Sir,' I will not talk to you. I will ignore you completely. Again, just call me Doc."
He adjusted his sunglasses, even though the room was not that bright.
"I graduated with the degrees of MAEd and PhD. I took the doctoral course. And I graduated in BSED Mathematics in my bachelor degree. That was a long time ago."
Jiro stared at him.
PhD. Doctor.
So the outfit isn't a costume. It's a flex.
Dr. Manazaki continued his introduction, pacing slightly in front of the board.
"So, uh, for our NSTP 1," he began, gesturing with his marker. "Since you're all future educators, the NSTP field you'll choose is only and automatically LTS (Literacy Training Service)."
He paused for effect. "What does that mean, Doc Rick?" he asked himself, answering immediately. "It means you'll comply with your own tutorial service."
Tutorials. Teaching kids. Expected.
"And also," he added, pointing towards the window that overlooked the overgrown lot behind the building. "Expect that we'll do other activities such as gardening or so-called adopt-a-place. Look at our campus backyard. You'll plant there."
Jiro followed the gaze. Gardening? In this heat?
"So, you will need groups," Dr. Manazaki announced. "Anyway, the grouping size is six. We will base it on the student list order so there's no fighting."
He read a soft copy of a class list from his phone.
"Yeah. From Alpha Agane to Reo Bairo, you are Group Alpha."
"For our next group, Beta. From Aira Berdez to Francine Cenia."
"For Group Charlie, from Tiffany Diez to Cosma Ibana."
"For Group Delta, from Cicille Masha to Hurd Onasa."
"For Group Enigma, from Mira Palida to Jerline Rama."
"And lastly, Group Falcon. From Nica Rosa to Jiro Sanata."
Jiro noted his group. Falcon. The last batch of the list.
"So, that will be your group for my subject," Doc Rick confirmed. "And that includes MMW (Math 1) as well."
He placed the list down. "By the way, who is the President here?"
Hidy Medona raised her hand immediately. She was seated in the first row, fifth chair from the door—right beside the center aisle. She was directly in front of Dr. Manazaki.
"It's Hidy, Doc," some students pointed out.
"Oh, okay Pres Hidy," Dr. Manazaki nodded. "Who is your VP?"
Princess Cleria raised her hand. She was sitting in the second row, left section, at the fourth chair—just one seat away from Hidy's back and just beside Jiro.
"What's your name?"
"Princess Cleria, Doc."
"Okay. So we have President Hidy, VP Princess... and who is your class Secretary?"
Mekayla Sano raised her hand from across the room. She was in the right section (window view), first row, fifth chair.
"Oh, you. What's your name?"
"Mekayla Sano, Doc."
"So, I already know the officers," Dr. Manazaki smiled, looking specifically at the President. "Especially Pres Hidy... you will always help me and accompany me, especially when I need something. Just do your jobs, officers, so we won't be in trouble."
He checked his watch, then looked at the class layout with a critical eye.
"And by the way, uh, Class BEEd 1-A," he announced. "Next meeting, on Friday, we will change our seating arrangement."
He pointed to the left side of the room (the Door-Hallway view section).
"Here in front of me, Group Alpha will take the first two rows. Then behind them, Group Charlie takes rows 2 and 3. And at the back, Group Falcon, you take the last rows, 4 and 5."
Falcon. Back row. Jiro mentally noted his new coordinates.
Dr. Manazaki pointed to the right side (the Window-Backyard view section).
"On this side, by the window... first two rows, Group Beta. Rows 2 and 3, Group Delta. And lastly, the back rows 4 and 5, Group Enigma."
He capped his marker with a snap.
"There. Next meeting, before I enter, the seating arrangement should be fixed, my children."
He started packing his things back into the small box bag, but paused.
"And lastly," he announced, raising a finger. "An activity."
Jiro stiffened. Here it comes.
"So, since y'all have a group now, for your first activity... that will be submitted this coming Monday, August 19..."
The room gasped.
Monday?
That's in three days.
Jiro's mental calendar screamed. Today is Friday. We have a general assembly later. Tomorrow is Saturday—Morning classes and an afternoon PE class. That leaves... Sunday?
Rush.
He looked at Hidy. "Pres Hidy will provide the Google Drive link for the submissions. Coordinate with her."
He turned back to the class.
"The activity you will do, my children, is a video presentation. Or a vlog."
Vlog. Due in 72 hours.
Jiro felt his soul wither slightly.
"It will be about our Vision, Mission, and Values—KSU's VMV. You will present each part in your videos, so everyone must cooperate. Everyone moves."
He raised a warning finger, his expression turning stern behind the sunglasses. "And take note of the restrictions."
"First, you are only allowed to shoot inside the campus. No outside shoots. I want to see the school grounds."
"Second, you must wear your official uniforms. No white shirts allowed on the video."
The room went silent.
Campus only? Uniforms only?
Jiro's panic spiked from orange to red.
Campus is closed on Sundays.
Today is Friday, and we have the General Assembly all afternoon.
That means we only have one day left to shoot.
Tomorrow. Saturday.
If we don't finish it tomorrow, we are dead.
He scanned the room over his sunglasses.
"It's up to you to choose a leader," he said, his voice dropping to a serious tone. "Just tell me... tell me if there is a member who doesn't follow, doesn't work, or doesn't help. So we can be clear."
The threat hung in the air, sweet but sharp.
"Do you understand, my children?"
"Yes, Doc!" the BEEd 1-A class chorused in unison, though their voices sounded a bit more panicked than before.
Dr. Manazaki nodded, satisfied. He grabbed his bag, flashed a final idol-like smile, and strode out of the room like he had just finished a concert set.
The room erupted into chaos.
Groupings. Video. Vlog. Vision Mission Values. Three days.
Jiro looked at his groupmates in Group Falcon. Niewi Voeliè, Nica Rosa, and Mekayla Sano. And others he barely knew.
First day of class.First group project.And we are already sprinting.
Welcome to Education.
END OF THE RED HAIR