Chapter 2: Club Bingo

The next morning, Raijin raps on my door with zealous energy.

I groggily open the door. "You do realize we're roommates, right…?"

"Left my stuff with Fuj," he explains in a hurry. "She's waiting in the 2F Classroom. We gotta get there as soon as possible!"

"What? Why?"

"Instructor Trepe's hosting a game of bingo, ya know!?"

"You've completely lost me."

"You have ten minutes!" he says urgently.

I don't know how or why a game of bingo is important, but the thought of appearing before Instructor Trepe an hour earlier than my normal schedule has me stumbling into the shower, brushing my teeth in the tub to save time, and throwing on a clean set of clothes with my hair still dripping wet.

Running isn't allowed in the hallways, so Raijin and I power walk (and run when nobody's looking).

The 2F Classroom is congested with students sitting at desks, standing around the edges of the room, and leaning against the walls. Fujin waves us over as soon as we enter; she's smartly saved us a desk in the front row. Instructor Trepe's head of blonde hair is bent down at her teacherly throne, no doubt busy grading assignments.

I plop onto the shared seat and nod in the direction of Instructor Trepe. "Tell me what's happening right now."

"We asked Instructor May J. yesterday, right? But she already promised the Hiking Club that she would be their Supervisor. We went to Instructor Trepe next—just like you told us to, boss. But then we found out that she got asked by every club in Garden! Crazy, huh?"

"POPULAR." Fujin shrugs, undeterred. "EXPECTED."

"And then she said she was gonna bingo this matter fair and square," continues Raijin, "and that's why we're here!" He frees a bran muffin out of his messenger bag. "Hey, you want some wholesome fiber?"

I take one look at the proffered muffin and shake my head. The batter looks like it was made out of tar and vegetables. I vaguely wonder how Raijin can digest that stuff.

I frown at the idea of the club bingo. "This whole setup is kinda weird, if you ask me."

"ELABORATE."

"Why the fuss? Why the show?"

Instructor Trepe may enjoy being an authority figure, but this frivolity, this flashiness, doesn't suit her one bit. I have a strong hunch that this bingo thing wasn't even her idea to begin with. It's almost as if she's going out of her way to prove something to us all.

But what?

The clock strikes eight and she stands up from her desk, pushing her glasses up her nose and clearing her throat with regal grace.

The conversations in the room are immediately extinguished.

"Good morning, students! I'd like to thank you all for considering me as someone who could potentially supervise your club or organization." She pauses for a moment and brings her hands together earnestly. "The new policy states that Instructors and Faculty can supervise multiple clubs, but I'm afraid that I'll only be able to commit to one for now. To give everyone a fair chance, we're going to select a club name out of a hat the old-fashioned way. Cadet Tilmitt has kindly volunteered to assist me with this task."

Selphie bounds forward, sticks her hand into the hat, and lifts up a folded rectangle of paper with theatrical flair.

"And the lucky winner is…"

I can hear the collective holding of breath.

"Drumroll, please…"

Desk-thumping commences.

"THE DISCIPLINARY COMMITTEE!"

The audience groans in disappointment.

My jaw goes slack.

Raijin stops chewing on his bran muffin.

Fujin's eye blinks rapidly.

"Come on up, DC!" Selphie cries out, clapping excitedly (she's the only one). "Instructor Trepe will fill out your Form C-8 now!"

My peers shuffle out of the classroom, muttering and whining and grieving about not being the chosen ones. I myself am finding it hard to believe that the three of us got so lucky.

Raijin finally remembers to chew and swallow. "YEAH!" he whoops in triumph. "We won, guys! We actually won!"

Fujin motions the way forward. "GO."

I stroll up to Instructor Trepe's desk and calmly meet her gaze.

"Hello, Seifer," she greets me with twinkling eyes.

"Hello, Instructor." For once, I have nothing insinuating to say. "Thank you for agreeing to be our Supervisor."

"Of course!" She hums cheerfully to herself as she signs and dates the bottom of the paper. "I'm happy to help you."

You are?

I'm hoping that her version of "help" means giving us autonomy. To be honest, I'm not so convinced about Fujin's assessment of Instructor Trepe and her compatibility with our group. She's well-behaved to a fault and a stickler for the rules so I feel like that's just going to end up cramping our style, but…

Baby is precious like no other woman.

Sex smoking in her eyes (effortless).

Adorable little frown when she's displeased with me (guileless).

Got the fame but just doesn't know what to do with it all (powerless).

A hundred fantasies is never enough so let me touch you, let me taste you! You will break me, my bona fide love—and I will let you, I will let you…

"Seifer?"

Back to reality.

Instructor Trepe is smiling at me with that charmingly innocent expression of hers.

She hands me the Club-Supervisor Agreement. "I took the liberty of filling out the rest of the form for you. All you have to do is submit this to Xu or anybody else in the Garden Administration."

"Thanks, Instructor."

"I'll see you in class shortly."

I hover in a dream-like state as my posse accompanies me to the 3rd Floor. Thankfully, Xu isn't at her desk to give me a death glare.

Raijin departs to his first class of the day while Fujin and I grab a quick breakfast at the cafeteria.

Somehow, I still end up being early for Instructor Trepe's class. The room is empty—she must've gone to use the ladies' room or something.

A thought comes to me. Not exactly bad, but definitely sneaky.

I casually pass by her desk while pretending to look for a pen. I discover that she's placed (hidden?) the hat with the names under her desk, right by her footrest.

I crouch down and unfold a name:

Disciplinary Committee

Did I pick ours again by chance?

I unfold another:

Disciplinary Committee

A duplicate?

Next one:

Disciplinary Committee

No, this was done on purpose!

"What in the actual fuck…?"

I'm completely bowled over.

There's no way Selphie Tilmitt could've messed with the entries. If that was the case, the Garden Festival Committee would be the clear winner. No, she's innocent of this sabotage.

There's really only one possible explanation.

Instructor Trepe rigged the results to ensure that we would win.