Chapter 2: Assertiveness Lessons
A successful crackdown involves a combination of strategy and luck. Strategy is something we've thoroughly considered. Luck, however, is out of our hands.
We study the Denim Thief's schedule in an effort to predict his whereabouts.
Fujin, Raijin, and I take turns monitoring the security cameras.
Instructor Trepe leaves a throwaway pair of jeans in the laundry room in an attempt to bait him.
Realistically, we can't hunt him down 24/7. Not with classes to teach, homework to complete, and exam preparations to undergo…
It turns out that the Denim Thief is a tough kid to corner. Fujin has informed us that his specialty is stealth operations. It's little wonder how he's gotten away with gradually misappropriating Instructor Trepe's beloved jean collection.
Monday afternoon, 1200 hours. The Denim Thief is in the cafeteria for all of five minutes before he's done with his lunch. Instructor Trepe misses her chance to confront him while Zell Dincht misses his chance to get hot dogs.
Tuesday morning, 0830 hours. The Denim Thief has a morning class at this time. Unfortunately it's Instructor Aki's homeroom, which means no monkey business within at least a hundred yards of his classroom.
Wednesday evening, 1845 hours. The Denim Thief heads in the direction of the library with a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. Instructor Trepe is waiting to ambush him at the entrance. Selphie Tilmitt materializes out of nowhere and gives a lengthy speech. Before long, he begins walking to the quad with her.
Thursday, all day. Raijin gets really sick and spends the night at the infirmary. We hit pause on our quest for justice.
Friday, midday. Raijin returns to the world of the living with a bounce in his step. He grins sheepishly as he tells us how Dr. Kadowaki has scolded him for an unbalanced diet. Apparently there's such a thing as eating too healthy.
The four of us are so drained from our temporary obsession with the Denim Thief that we decide to cancel our weekly Disciplinary Committee meeting.
Saturday morning marks the start of a record-breaking heatwave in the month of April.
My posse and I loaf around in the DC Room instead of spending a relaxing day out in Balamb like we normally would. I've learned that the air conditioning in this new closet is much more efficient than the rattling wall units in our dorm rooms. As for Fujin, she despises needless sweating and sun-damaged skin. Raijin would've preferred to go fishing down by the docks but accepts the fact that he's outnumbered.
We're totally surprised when Instructor Trepe shows up in what can only be described as winter athletic garb.
"Headed to Trabia?" I tease.
"I'm relocating my Physical Conditioning class to the gym just for today," she says thoughtfully. "I don't want anyone passing out from heatstroke on the Alcauld Plains! Unfortunately, the central air is malfunctioning in the training center so the entire place is currently indistinguishable from an icy tundra."
Raijin giggles. "I'm imagining frozen Grats."
Fujin blinks languidly in amusement as she makes use of a bamboo folding fan, even though she's literally sitting right beneath the AC vent.
"So what's up?" I ask curiously.
Instructor Trepe sighs. "I'm just stopping by to thank you for what you did for me this week. You don't have to be concerned about my jeans anymore."
"Instructor!" I grin at her with pride. "Have you already caught him by yourself!?"
"Whoa!" says Raijin. "Seriously?"
"NICE!"
"Sorry to disappoint you but the circumstances haven't actually changed," she explains with an uncomfortable expression. "I simply feel terrible that you all are putting in so much time and energy on my behalf. There are much more important matters to focus on as a club."
Raijin suddenly yelps and points to the live feed that's still running on the computer. "It's the Denim Thief!"
Fujin gets up from her chair to observe the screen alongside him. "WING 6, HALLWAY E."
"Wait…" Raijin turns to me and Instructor Trepe with a look of realization. "Isn't this Wing 6?"
"Hell yeah it is! Instructor, now's your chance!"
Instructor Trepe is in mild shock as Fujin hands her an earpiece. "I don't know if I have enough time before class starts," she objects in a weak voice.
"LATE POLICY: FIFTEEN MINUTES."
I glance at the wall clock. "Yeah, so that gives us a total of thirty-five minutes. Plenty of time."
"Turn left and then left again at the next hallway," says Raijin to Instructor Trepe. "Hey boss, here's the other earpiece!" He arcs it to me and I catch it one-handed.
It's time to coach Instructor Trepe in assertiveness lessons.
She looks at me, a bundle of nerves.
"You've got this," I assure her.
She manages to give me a small smile as Fujin firmly but gently guides her out of the room. "HURRY…!"
The three of us intently watch the cameras. This is what we've been waiting for the whole week.
"Chin up, Instructor."
Instructor Trepe lifts her chin slightly as she traverses from Hallway E to Hallway D.
"He's about ten strides away…"
Cadet Brooks has a plain face. Not handsome but not ugly, the kind of face you might struggle to remember in detail the next day. He gets decent grades and is an active member of the Hiking Club. He doesn't have any negative marks on his student record. He's as average as they come.
When Cadet Brooks notices Instructor Trepe, he stops in his tracks and audibly gasps.
"Hello, Cadet Brooks," says Instructor Trepe calmly.
"Instructor…"
She folds her hands behind her back. She probably looks authoritative doing that, but from the backside I can see that her hands are a fidgety tumble. "May I speak with you for a minute…?"
"Y-yes, sure."
"He's a hundred percent guilty. This is gonna be a cinch."
Raijin sniggers. "Heh heh."
Instructor Trepe eyes her former pupil closely. "Your specialty is stealth, is it not?"
Cadet Brooks nods. "Yes, ma'am."
"Your skillset is in high demand," she continues in an ingratiating tone. "What do you think about teaming up with me to catch a thief?"
Fujin nods slowly, impressed by Instructor Trepe's tactics.
Cadet Brooks' mouth twitches.
"That's right, Instructor. Take back control!"
"This thief has been taking certain items of clothing whenever I do my laundry," she says humorlessly, "and only a master of stealth like yourself would be able to catch this thief in the act."
"IT WAS ME!" he blurts out in a short confession. "I'm…I'm so sorry, Instructor Trepe." His face is contorted with guilt. "I accepted the job for the m-money."
"The money?" she repeats, bewildered.
"Fuck no! He's pimping out your jeans?"
"Oh, man." Raijin shakes his head in disbelief. "What're we gonna do now!?"
Cadet Brooks hangs his head and mumbles, "The Trepies offered me a ton of gil for the job. I needed it for my brother's surgery."
Instructor Trepe shifts her hands to her hips. "Can you take me to them?"
Cadet Brooks looks torn. Betray his benefactors, or do what's right?
"Tell him to do it NOW. We're coming with you, Instructor!"
"Take me to them right now," she orders him. "If you do this, I give you my word that my Disciplinary Committee won't write you up for your infraction."
My grand vision of raiding the Trepie hideout and confiscating everything inside of it is finally happening!
We discover that their headquarters is just some kid's cluttered dorm room where fifteen or so club members stare in shock at the appearance of their patron saint and her newly appointed bodyguards.
When Instructor Trepe asks for her jeans to be returned, half of the group begins shouting incoherently and gesticulating wildly at the other half of the group.
It appears that we've stumbled into the Trepies' internal politics.
Raijin picks up a couple of kids by the collar and sets them on opposite sides of the room.
Fujin climbs onto a chair and yells, "SILENCE!"
We learn that one half of the group wasn't even aware of what was going on. They call themselves the True Trepies.
The guilty half of the group is a mixed bag of reactions. One stubborn kid who seems like the leader of the faction denies his involvement completely, and I gleefully write him up for aiding and abetting theft and lying about it. A few are bold enough to present their business plan to start a fashion line inspired by Instructor Trepe. Others own up to what they did wrong and promise to respect her privacy from now on.
Needless to say, Instructor Trepe gets her three pairs of jeans back.
Baby is winning.
When the crackdown is over and everybody's out of earshot, she asks me if I'd care to have lunch with her in the cafeteria after she finishes up her morning class.
Apparently I'm winning, too.