September 13 (Friday)
11:38 AM
The morning MMW torture had officially concluded, but the psychological aftermath lingered heavily in the air.
It was supposed to be their designated lunch break, but the vast majority of the BEEd 1-A cohort refused to leave the sweltering confines of Room 407. The wooden armchairs had transformed into makeshift dining tables and desperate study stations. While they chewed their rice and viands, their eyes remained aggressively glued to their binder notebooks and yellow pad papers. The impending 1:00 PM MMW quiz loomed over them like a dark, suffocating cloud.
For the class officers, however, the academic pressure was only half the battle. The administrative burden was finally taking its physical toll.
At the front row, the Commander's system was crashing.
Hidy Medona sat in her armchair, looking uncharacteristically pale. The endless late-night meetings, the stressful coordination of the NSTP documentation, the chaotic file formatting, and the sheer weight of managing thirty-four panicking freshmen had completely drained her stamina. Adding a highly suspicious bout of food poisoning to her physical exhaustion, she had reached her absolute limit.
She turned to her left, tapping the Vice President on the shoulder.
"Uy, Princess," Hidy whispered, her voice weak. "I will just go to the clinic ah. I am really not feeling well eh. Can you take guard of the class first?"
Princess Cleria looked up from her notes, her eyes widening with genuine concern. "Hala, sure, Pres. Take a rest po ah. I got this."
With the chain of command temporarily delegated, Hidy stood up slowly. She didn't bother carrying her heavy bag; she simply grabbed her essential survival kit—her insulated tumbler, her wallet, and her smartphone. She walked out of the room, leaving the academic chaos behind, and began the long trek down to the ground floor.
Miraculously, the campus clinic was actually open, and the male nurse on duty was present. He quickly assessed her fatigue and provided the necessary medical remedies, allowing the overworked Commander to finally rest her eyes in the quiet sanctuary of the clinic bed.
Meanwhile, a completely different sequence of events was unfolding down at the ground floor cafeteria.
Niewi Voeliè, Mira Palida, and Jiro Sanata had successfully migrated away from the stressful atmosphere of the fourth floor. The two girls wanted to buy their lunch, and Jiro had decided to tag along just to see what the campus inventory had to offer today—while remaining highly vigilant for any expired goods.
As they stepped through the entrance, they noticed something incredibly unusual.
The cafeteria was a ghost town. It was relatively quiet, and not a single plastic table was occupied by the usual horde of exhausted Nursing or Education students.
They walked toward the main counter. Standing right in front of them in the short queue was a tall, older woman. She had short hair, wore sharp glasses, and carried an undeniable aura of authority. She was currently leaning over the counter, casually gossiping and laughing with one of the cafeteria staff members.
Jiro, Niewi, and Mira stood patiently behind her, waiting for the transaction to finish. They were just minding their own business, wearing their distinct KSU COE uneven shades of blue uniforms.
Then, the older woman chuckled at something the staff member said. She casually glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes locked onto the three blue-uniformed freshmen standing quietly behind her.
The casual, gossiping atmosphere instantly evaporated.
The woman fully turned around, fixing them with an intense, interrogating glare.
"Oh," she raised an eyebrow, her voice projecting across the empty cafeteria. "Don't you guys know me??"
Jiro froze. His brain immediately buffered. Wait, what?
Before any of them could even formulate a response to the sudden ambush, the woman delivered the ego bomb.
"I am the Dean of the College of Nursing!!"
The three freshmen went absolutely rigid. Pure, unadulterated shock washed over them. It was a completely unprovoked, high-level confrontation. They were Education students, their territory was strictly governed by the COE Dean. Why would they instantly recognize the supreme leader of the White Faction while just trying to buy lunch?
Mira, ever the diplomatic muse, immediately bowed her head slightly, her voice dropping into a soft, highly respectful tone.
"Ay... sorry po, Dean," Mira apologized quickly.
"Sorry po," Niewi and Jiro echoed in unison, keeping their heads down to pacify the sudden administrative aggro.
Satisfied with their submission, the CON Dean turned back to the cafeteria staff. She shook her head, a loud, amused sigh escaping her lips.
"It is crazy ah," the Dean remarked to the staff, laughing loudly. "Other students here don't even know me much aba hahaha!"
With her presence fully established and acknowledged, the Dean finally grabbed her items and marched out of the cafeteria, leaving a heavy, awkward silence in her wake.
Jiro stood completely stunned, staring at the empty doorway. His Apex Strategist mind was actively trying to process the psychological absurdity of the interaction.
That was so absurd... Jiro's internal monologue screamed, his face locked in a cold deadpan. What is wrong with her lol. You literally approached three random Education students just to flex your title? Next level ego at its finest.
Beside him, Mira and Niewi just exchanged bewildered glances and shrugged it off, refusing to let the bizarre encounter ruin their lunch break.
"Anyway," Niewi muttered, turning to the counter. "Miss, what is available po?"
They quickly scanned the remaining options. Given the limited and questionable food selections, Niewi and Mira decided to play it safe, purchasing only bottled water and cold sodas to temporarily quench their thirst and stress. Jiro, maintaining his strict budget and energy conservation principles, simply bought a single pack containing three pieces of cookies.
Basic rations acquired.
With their meager lunch secured, the trio turned around and began the grueling trek back to the UP ONLY stairs. They needed to return to Room 407 immediately. The bizarre encounter with the CON Dean was already fading from their minds, rapidly replaced by the terrifying reality of Dr. Manazaki's impending math quiz.
12:48 PM
Inside Room 407, the noisy conditions continued. The cohort was in a state of absolute academic panic. The wooden armchairs were scattered everywhere in every direction, completely destroying the strict rows from the morning as students hastily formed small, cramped circles to conduct desperate peer-reviews for their upcoming 1:00 PM MMW quiz.
Meanwhile, Jiro was busy analyzing the worded problems on his phone. He stared at his yellow pad paper, which was covered in messy scratch marks and his attempted, completely wrong answers. A heavy wave of worry washed over him. He had to admit it—he didn't understand everything. The problems were too random, and the mathematical solutions were always entirely different depending on the specific phrasing of the paragraph.
He leaned over and asked his seatmate, Mekayla Sano, who was also reviewing her own notes intensely.
"Meka, did you understand it?" Jiro asked, his voice low.
Mekayla looked up, stopping her pen. "Nah... I didn't understand everything hahahaha," she laughed, a stressed smile forming on her lips. She threw another frustrating thought into the mix. "It is really hard beh, every problem has a different formula and solution eh..."
Jiro deeply agreed. He began to experience a literal headache just thinking about how absurdly hard these math worded problems were compared to Calculus. Even though he had tried practicing multiple times during the break, he still ended up with the wrong answers.
To cope with the cognitive strain, Jiro decided to initiate a quick energy recovery sequence. He reached into his bag and pulled out the single pack of three-piece cookies he had bought from the empty cafeteria earlier.
He peeled the wrapper open.
And voila.
From his left and his right, Mekayla's hand and Nica Rosa's hand flew straight into his personal space, swiping right in front of his eyes just as he was about to eat his first cookie.
Jiro froze. He stared at the two girls, deploying his absolute, cold deadpan eyes.
Crap! his internal monologue screamed, completely baffled by the sheer audacity of his seatmates. I didn't know that this cookie is good for three... no, this is for one person!
He let out a long, heavy sigh. He didn't argue. He just surrendered the remaining cookies to Nica and Mekayla.
"Thank youuu! You're so kind!!" the two girls chorused happily, munching on their looted snacks.
Jiro just sighed again, eating his one remaining cookie in silent defeat. The charity mode was inescapable.
1:03 PM
The chaotic hum of Room 407 was instantly silenced as the cohort hastily broke their study circles, scraping the metal frame of wooden armchairs back into strict, formal rows for the assessment.
Dr. Manazaki arrived. He stepped through the doorway, radiating his usual confident, untouchable aura.
"Oh, 1 BEEd. Are you all ready? Hehehe," Dr. Manazaki greeted them, walking smoothly toward the teacher's table. "Please, uh, put your phones inside your bags ah... The only things I should see there are your scientific calculator, yellow paper, ballpen, and your notes."
He adjusted his indoor shades and flashed a chill smile.
"Since we are open notes, eyyy. This is easy."
The cohort groaned collectively. Open notes. It sounded like an academic blessing, but the reality was a complete trap. Even with open notebooks, the overall math problem was still incredibly hard. Even if the question was formatted like the Money Problem they had tackled that morning, it entirely depended on the specific wording. You simply couldn't use the exact same table solution Dr. Manazaki had presented earlier if the logic was twisted.
The quiz began shortly. The red-haired professor turned his back to the class and wrote the questions on the whiteboard.
MMW Quiz
Find the three consecutive numbers whose sum is 507? A certain number is 10/125 of another number. Their sum is 105. Find the numbers?
It was just very short. Very simple. Surprisingly, it was just two MMW problems.
But it was more than enough to completely destroy an entire soul and brain.
From his seat in the fourth row, Jiro just stared, completely stunned at the problems on the board. He experienced a massive mental block.
Wait, Jiro panicked internally, his eyes darting across the white surface. Did Dr. Manazaki really teach this earlier?!
He looked around frantically. He tried to take a peek at Mekayla's paper, and even Nica leaned over, desperately asking him what the solution was. He just shrugged it off, completely helpless. Even Meka was deeply confused. The rest of Group Falcon—Windy, Lindsey, and Niewi—were equally lost, just putting completely random numbers and illogical solutions on their yellow papers to avoid submitting a blank sheet.
1:43 PM
Forty minutes passed in agonizing silence. Time was up.
"Okay, exchange your papers," Dr. Manazaki instructed.
They began the peer-checking protocol. Dr. Manazaki grabbed his marker and proceeded to answer the quiz on the board.
The solutions were mathematically simple, but psychologically absurd to think about under pressure. The answer for Number 1 was simply n = 168.
But then, Dr. Manazaki shifted to the second problem. He wrote the foundational equation on the board, speaking as he went.
"For number two... so it is 10 over 25... "
The entire room paused.
Wait. 10 over 25?
Jiro squinted from the back row. He looked at his own paper, then up at the whiteboard. The problem clearly read 10/125.
"Uhh, Doc," Jachie Marello from the third row bravely called out, breaking the silence. "Is it 125 po?"
Dr. Manazaki stopped writing. He turned around, adjusting his shades, looking slightly confused. "Uhh, no? It is 25."
"But Doc, it looks like 125 on the board eh," Jachie insisted.
Dr. Manazaki frowned and leaned closer to the white surface, inspecting the number he had written earlier. He squinted, then raised a hand and tried to scratch at the '1' preceding the '25'.
It didn't budge. He tried to wipe it with his eraser. Nothing.
"Oh," Dr. Manazaki chuckled, pulling his hand back. "This is a tape."
It was a lingering residue of double-sided tape, perfectly positioned right next to the number 25, which happened to be covered in old whiteboard marker dust, making it look exactly like a solid '1'.
A collective, agonized groan swept through BEEd 1-A. The class had literally spent forty minutes calculating impossible fractions based on a piece of dirty sticky tape.
What the hell is that freaking tape mess, Jiro deadpanned internally, staring at the ceiling. Bruh. Game over hahaha.
"Anyway, let's continue," Dr. Manazaki laughed off the structural flaw, returning to the board.
The actual answer for Number 2—which had a much longer logical sequence but still somehow managed to fit perfectly in a tiny square section of the whiteboard—was y = 75.
To solve it, Dr. Manazaki had used a specific box method (y + 2/5 y = 105) first before fully executing the equation. It was a hidden technique, a crucial foundational step required before anyone could even attempt to extract the raw numbers.
As the checking concluded, the brutal reality of the assessment was revealed.
It turned out, only a very select few had actually secured the correct answers. The academic elites—Anila Bakuda, Cristel Basha, Reo Bairo, Princess Cleria, Hurd Onasa, and Gracie Masado—had somehow managed to survive the logic trap.
While the rest of the cohort, including Jiro Sanata, got incredibly low scores. Or worse.
Jiro just looked down at his own yellow pad paper, which had been checked by Nica Rosa. Written right at the top of the page was a painfully red, perfectly round 0.
He was just stunned and surprised. Well, thank you effort!
And then, Dr. Manazaki dropped the ultimate public execution mandate.
"Okay, pass your papers forward," Dr. Manazaki announced cheerfully. "So I can announce the scores."
The whole class groaned in pure, unadulterated terror.
"Uhh, no hahaha. Ayy!!!" the students complained, desperately wanting to hide their academic failures.
But the professor was relentless. When Dr. Manazaki had finally gathered all the yellow papers in his hands, he smiled first, looking out at the terrified sea of blue uniforms. Then, he began to announce the scores loudly in front of the class, while most of the freshmen were literally covering their ears and eyes in shame.
"Oh, Zherel Diman... hmmm..." Dr. Manazaki read the paper, pausing for dramatic effect. "Study well..."
The class groaned in collective sympathy. Study well. It was the polite, devastating academic translation for a failing grade.
Dr. Manazaki pulled the next paper from the stack. "Anila Bakuda... wow... good job, A-Anila... 18 over 20!"
The announcements continued down the roster. But the phrase "Study well" echoed through Room 407 much more often than actual raw numbers. The passing score was 10, and the vast majority of the cohort had completely missed the mark.
Dr. Manazaki was a bit disappointed by the massive failure rate, but he maintained his approachable demeanor, encouraging everyone to just review well for the next assessment.
As the class began to pack up their bags in sheer exhaustion, Jiro quietly grabbed his smartphone. He raised his camera and captured a clear picture of the absurd quiz solution still written on the whiteboard.
Bastard math, Jiro's internal monologue grumbled, staring at the digital image in his gallery. This thing almost killed me.
1:54 PM
As they were already packing up their bags and Jiro successfully secured the whiteboard data, Dr. Manazaki paused before leaving the room to deliver one final, heavy announcement.
"Oh, children. We have a prelim exam next week, ah," Dr. Manazaki reminded them, carrying his box bag. "Please study well, especially for those who failed. Good luck!"
The red-haired idol professor finally left the room. The exhausted cohort immediately began swapping seats, migrating from Dr. Manazaki's strict alphabetical arrangement back to their respective, casual coordinates.
Jiro navigated back to his usual spot—the second-row aisle seat by the door-hallway section. He settled in, and Princess Cleria took her designated seat right beside him.
But when Jiro looked directly in front of him, the seat was conspicuously empty. Only a heavy bag was resting on the chair.
"Uy, Princess," Jiro asked, gesturing to the empty chair. "Where did Hidy go?"
"Ayy, she said she was not feeling well eh," Princess sighed, looking concerned. "So she went to the clinic."
Jiro frowned, feeling a genuine surge of empathy for their overworked leader.
"Ohh, poor Hidy," Jiro muttered. "Yeah, this recent week, she was very busy handling our NSTP requirements and probably other stuff from BEES and FEC, as she is also a student org officer eh."
Princess nodded in wide agreement. "Yeah. We also hope she recovers quickly. Because it is very hard that we don't have a president in the room eh."
Jiro nodded silently, fully understanding the logistical nightmare of losing their Commander right before Prelims. He decided to shift the topic away from administrative stress and back to their recent academic trauma.
"By the way... uhh," Jiro started, looking at Princess. "How did you understand our MMW quiz?"
Princess burst into laughter. "Ay hahahaha, didn't you get it noh?" she asked, her eyes crinkling. "Well... uhh, I just tried it and yeah, I just followed some stuff and I accidentally got the correct answers even though my solution was a bit different."
Jiro was genuinely impressed, but also deeply confused. An accidental correct answer in a complex math logic trap?
"Ahh... Hmm.. how?" Jiro asked, his strategic mind trying to reverse-engineer her luck. "Like, yeah, it is so confusing eh..."
Princess leaned in slightly, offering her ultimate academic secret. "Beh, just read the problem very well and you'll get it."
Jiro stared at her, utterly shocked by the simplicity of the advice. But it actually made perfect sense. Reading comprehension was exactly what Dr. Manazaki's worded problems demanded.
"Ohh, okie okie. Maybe I got it now," Jiro noted, storing the tip in his mental database.
"And, please don't talk about that anymore," Princess added quickly, rubbing her temples. "It already happened eh... it is such a headache to me."
Jiro let out a dry, breathy laugh. "Well, exactly hahahaa."
Around 2:42 PM, the hazy, overcast sky outside finally gave up. A nearby thunderstorm rapidly formed, and a light, steady rain began to fall across Taytay. It wasn't completely dark yet, but the environmental shift triggered an immediate, notorious campus hazard.
As the rain hit the roof, the leaking ceilings in both the UP ONLY and DOWN ONLY stairwells immediately gave way. The water dripped steadily onto the concrete steps, quickly transforming the busy staircases into slippery, hazardous surfaces filled with muddy puddles.
The light waterfall stairs had returned.
3:07 PM
With the rain falling outside and the classroom settling into a quiet waiting game, Jiro turned to Princess again.
"Uy, do you think our UTS Prof will ever come today?" Jiro asked.
Princess simply shrugged, staring at her notes. "Beh, we don't know yet... but we have to wait."
Jiro just nodded, fully resigning himself to the erratic schedule.
The light rain eventually tapered off, leaving a damp, humid chill in the air.
But then, the noisy, chaotic chatter of the classroom was pierced by a distinct sound coming from the open-air hallway. The sharp, rhythmic clicking of heels echoed against the concrete floor.
Jiro looked through the open back doorway.
A young woman with long, flowing hair, carrying a professional laptop bag, appeared in the corridor. The noise inside the room began to die down immediately. As she walked with purpose, bypassing the back entrance, her silhouette passed by the open casement windows. Thirty-three pairs of eyes tracked her movement in absolute silence as her heels clicked steadily along the corridor. She continued walking until she finally reached the open front doorway of Room 407.
She stepped inside, surveying the thirty-three waiting students.
Enter Mrs. Giany Talashiro, their highly anticipated Understanding the Self (UTS) professor.
END OF THE SCHOOLING SELF