The moment Dr. Manazaki stepped out of the room, the spell of silence broke. The noise exploded back into the room, louder than before.
The Idol has left the room.
But the chaos wasn't just physical; it was digital.
10:50 AM.
Just ten minutes after the professor left, Jiro's phone lit up with a notification.
Hidy Medona (Section GC):Sent a Group Invite Link: "MMW/NSTP 1 - BEED 1A"
"Guys, join now!" Hidy shouted over the noise of the classroom. "Doc Rick is waiting!"
The class scrambled for their phones. It was a race to get in. Jiro tapped the link, his profile sliding into the new digital room silently.
10:56 AM.
Dr. Ricky Manazaki:Sent an image: Class ListSent a file: MMW_Syllabus.docx
Jiro glanced at the files. The syllabus was thick. The class list was long. The work ahead looked heavy.
Vlog due Monday. Syllabus to read. Groups to organize.
Logic dictated that they should start planning immediately. They should be huddling with their groups, drafting scripts, assigning roles for the video shoot tomorrow.
But the collective brain of BEEd 1-A had a different priority.
"Uy, let's eat lunch na?" someone suggested.
"G! I'm hungry already," another replied.
"Vlog later, food first," Mira declared, standing up.
Priorities.
Procrastination Level: Expert.
11:20 AM.
The exodus began. Most of the students started filtering out of the room. They left their bags on the armchairs to reserve their precious, looted seats.
"Jiro, let's go," Niewi called out. "Leave your bag."
Jiro hesitated for a split second—trust issues—but seeing everyone else do it, he complied. He left the heavy "Hulk" bag, taking only his valuables and his tumbler.
They trekked down to the ground floor.
Miracle.
The Cafeteria wasn't a war zone. It wasn't empty, but it wasn't the sardine can it had been last Wednesday.
"Uy, nice! There are seats!" Ivyn pointed out.
They secured a table and a set of chairs immediately. Reserved.
"Let's buy," Cosma said.
Niewi, Mira, and Cosma lined up at the counter. Cicille and Ivyn brought out their eco-bag lunch packs.
Jiro sat down with them. He didn't need to buy; he was prepared.
He brought out his lunch bag and unpacked his glass container. Today's menu: Porkchop with rice.
"Wow, porkchop," Mira teased, returning to the table with her bought lunch from paper plates. "Rich kid. Delicious lunch ah."
"It's just lunch," Jiro mumbled, opening the lid.
They ate with the urgency of people who knew they had a long afternoon ahead. The conversation touched on the vlog for maybe five seconds—"When do we shoot?" "Just do it tomorrow"—before shifting back to random topics, gossip, and complaints about the heat.
12:14 PM.
Lunch was done.
"Tara, let's go back," Mira suggested, checking the time. "Whatever happens, at least we are in the room."
They bussed their tables and headed back upstairs.
The Fourth Floor Climb. Again.
They entered the room, grabbed their bags, and checked their faces in mirrors. They needed to be ready. The Future Educators' Community (FEC) General Assembly was waiting.
And they were required to attend.
As they settled back into their looted armchairs, the room was in a state of suspended animation.
Some classmates were just hanging out, draped over desks. Others were finishing their late lunches, the smell of rice and viands mixing with the afternoon heat. Jiro's circle gathered in their usual spot, waiting for the signal to descend to the Gymnasium.
Jiro sat quietly, his phone in hand. It was on silent mode—no vibrations, no pings—but his eyes were glued to the screen. He never missed a notification because he never looked away.
12:52 PM.
At the back of the room, Deanne Parina stood up near her armchair desk. She held a smartphone over a piece of paper, adjusting the angle to avoid the glare. She snapped a picture.
It seemed she had just received the hard copy of the confirmation letter from Hidy or one of the FEC officers.
12:54 PM.
Jiro saw the message pop up instantly on the KSU Taytay BEED 1-A group chat.
Deanne Parina:Sent a photo.
Jiro tapped the image to expand it.
It was the Excuse Letter. The Golden Ticket that justified their existence in the Gym later.
He zoomed in on the details.
The letterhead was official. The signatures were all there—the Dean of the College of Education, the Campus Director, various teachers in position, and the adviser of their organization.
But Jiro's eyes caught the date stamped on the header.
13 June 2024.
Jiro blinked.
June 13?
That was months ago. Before the BEEd 1-A 2024 batch even arrived on campus.
So this was planned all along.
They knew we were coming. They knew we would be here.
It was a strange feeling—realizing that the "System" had mapped out their schedule long before they even decided to enroll.
"Uy, look at the GC," Niewi whispered to the group. "The letter is there."
"Okay, finally," Mira sighed. "Legit excuse."
The proof was digital, but the command was real. The assembly was a go.
No need for making excuse letters for professors.
12:56 PM.
Shortly after, a new message popped up from Deanne in the KSU Taytay BEED 1-A group chat chat.
Deanne Parina: "Let's go down now."
Inside the room, Vice President Princess Cleria stood up and announced it to the class.
"Guys, we need to go down," she called out.
The room erupted into movement. Everyone stood up, grabbing their bags. Being conscientious future educators (or just afraid of being scolded), they organized the chairs first. The extra armchairs they had looted earlier were carried back to Room 405, restoring the balance of the furniture universe.
They left Room 404 with the door wide open and headed for the stairs.
They took the DOWN ONLY staircase, descending toward the Gym.
Adventure to the Assembly is on the way!
Another quest is waiting... or maybe just an attendance sheet.
At the same time, just seconds after they hit the stairwell, Jiro's phone lit up again. But this time, it wasn't the KSU Taytay BEED 1-A group chat. It was the MMW/NSTP 1 Group Chat with Dr. Manazaki.
Dr. Ricky Manazaki: "Attention BEEd 1 - NSTP class!
You may proceed to your FES event this afternoon.. but be sure to settle the following :
NSTP online Registration (choose only LTS program).Bring your calamity donation stuff on Monday and kindly drop it in our donation boxes.
#CLass President take charge!
(Doc Rick)"
Then, a parade of follow-up messages flooded in while Jiro was navigating the steps.
Dr. Ricky Manazaki: "Here is our NSTP online Registration link.. enlist your name the soonest.."
Dr. Ricky Manazaki: "Choose only LTS.. nothing more nothing less."
Dr. Ricky Manazaki:Sent a Link: Google Forms NSTP Registration
Jiro, lucky enough to be glued to his screen, saw the message immediately.
He continued walking down the stairs, eyes fixed on his phone—a bit of a bad habit, dangerous even, but he was aware of his footing. Multitasking.
"Uy," he told his friends, who were chatting beside him. "Doc Rick just sent a link. Registration for NSTP."
"Just do it later," Niewi dismissed it, focusing on not tripping.
"Yeah, later," Mira added. "Focus on the assembly first."
Jiro sighed. Why wait? Efficiency.
He tapped the link while turning the corner of the landing.
Loading...
A new page opened.
You need permission.This form can only be viewed by users in the owner's organization.
Jiro stopped mid-step.
Voila.
Classic.
Technology 1, Students 0.
As the BEEd 1-A students finally reached the first floor, they navigated past the offices and turned right, heading into the open hallway in the middle of the building that led to the gymnasium.
Finally, they reached the checkpoint.
Just beside the Gym's entrance, a table was set up, manned by four students—sophomores and seniors who were clearly FEC officers. They looked busy but organized, guarding the sacred Attendance Sheets.
There were multiple sheets on the table, separated by course and year level.
BTLED ICT.BSED English.BEED.
"Uy, where is the BEED list?" a classmate asked.
"Here, sign here!" an officer pointed.
The queue was messy—a blob of mixed uneven shades of blue uniforms pushing forward—but surprisingly fast.
"Sign your name, hurry up," Niewi urged, scribbling her signature.
Jiro waited for his turn, grabbed the pen, and signed his name on the empty column.
Attendance: Secured.
After the ritual signing, they walked into the Gymnasium.
It was a standard multipurpose gym—high ceiling, concrete floor. Basketball hoops hung at both ends, and the court was wide enough to set up a volleyball game if they wanted to.
It was an open-air structure, allowing the breeze to pass through. And surprisingly, it wasn't hot at all. A massive industrial fan on the ceiling was spinning lazily, circulating the air.
Rows of monobloc chairs were already lined up facing the stage area.
"Tara, let's sit," Mira said, leading the way to a free row.
They took their seats and relaxed.
Chill.
The assembly would start in a few minutes.
Welcome to the first general assembly of FEC in KSU Taytay.
Jiro found a spot and sat down. He wasn't hiding in the back this time. He was in the first row from the front.
Front row experience.
Wow. 3D.
High definition view of the stage.
He looked to his left. He was sitting right next to the Vice President, Princess Cleria.
And she wasn't alone. She was flanked by her own circle, which seemed to double as the "Class Officer/High Achiever" bloc. There was Aprille Bolente, Windy Viyago, Jesper Arufe, and Jachie Marello.
Princess placed her bag on the empty seat to her left—the prime spot right beside the aisle.
"Reserved for Pres Hidy," she announced quietly.
Jiro nodded, keeping his posture straight.
I am sitting with the elites.
He turned his head to scan for his own tribe. He squinted against the light coming from the open sides of the gym.
Just behind him—around the 3rd or 4th row—he spotted them.
Niewi, Mira, Cicille, and Cosma had claimed Row 4 as their territory. Just at the front of them—right at the front of Niewi—Ivyn sat with her bestie, Tiffany Diez, in Row 3. They were already laughing, successfully establishing their own little world in the "chill zone."
Jiro faced the front again.
My body is here with the student leaders.
But my soul is back there with the noisy squad.
But then, a thought crossed his mind.
Why not talk to these new guys, noh?
I'm already here. Sitting next to the Vice President. Might as well build connections. Networking 101.
Just as he was about to open his mouth to initiate a conversation, Princess Cleria pulled out her phone. She snapped a photo of the reserved monobloc chair beside her.
Click.
She sent it to the KSU Taytay BEED 1-A group chat immediately.
Princess Cleria: "Reserved chair for you, President"
Minutes later, the emcee grabbed the mic.
"Please everyone stand for the opening prayer, followed by the National Anthem and the KSU Hymn."
Everyone stood up. The shuffling of feet echoed on the concrete floor. Jiro stood straight, hands at his side, trying to look dignified among the officers.
As the anthem played, Jiro's phone—which he was discreetly holding—lit up with a notification.
Reo Bairo:Sent a photo.
Jiro glanced down. It was a picture taken from the back rows. In the frame, Pres Hidy Medona was standing somewhere around Row 5, right in front of Reo, singing along with the crowd, completely unaware that a VIP seat was waiting for her at the front.
Plot twist. She's stuck in the middle of the crowd.
After the formalities, the crowd sat down.
"And now, for the opening remarks..."
The Campus Director took the stage. She was a tall woman, maybe in her late forties or fifties, but she carried herself with flair. She wore the official professor attire, but accessorized with a headband that held back long hair streaked with colorful highlights.
She grabbed the mic.
"GOOD AFTERNOON, FUTURE EDUCATORS!"
Her voice was loud. Boombox loud. She didn't need the mic, honestly.
She started her speech, followed by the COE Dean. They spoke about passion, resilience, and the future of the department. Inspiring stuff.
But the audience had other plans.
Jiro looked around. As the speeches dragged on, heads started to tilt downward. Hands slipped into pockets and bags. The blue glow of screens began to illuminate faces.
The Universal Bore.
Speech time = Scroll time.
Jiro checked the GC again. The drama of the empty seat was resolving.
Hidy Medona: "Hala! I'm in the back row... I thought there were no seats there for me"
Princess Cleria:Reacted with the Laughing Emoji.
Jiro smirked.
The President is exiled to the back while I, the accidental student, am sitting in the VIP section.
The irony never ends.
As the speeches finally winded down, the discipline in the gym began to crumble.
There were some... naughty students.
Ehem. Future Educators.
Instead of listening to the transition, the crowd was still busy. Phones were still out. The blue light of screens illuminated faces everywhere. Chatting. Scrolling. Taking selfies. The collective attention span had officially left the gymnasium.
The FEC emcees on stage were trying to transition to the next part of the program—a presentation displayed on a smart TV set up on a table right in front of the stage—but the "talking session" among the audience had already begun.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Jiro leaned slightly to his right. Sitting there was Aprille Bolente, one of Princess's close friends.
He decided to break the ice with a bit of observation.
"Wow," Jiro whispered, tilting his head toward the sea of distracted students behind them. "Future teachers, but they don't know how to follow rules. Look, oh, just doing cellphone business."
Aprille looked around, then she had a cracked smile. She laughed softly.
"It is what it is," she nodded, acknowledging the chaotic reality.
Jiro paused, then smirked.
"Well… fair enough," he admitted, clutching his own phone. "We are doing it too, eh. Hahahaha."
They both chuckled, keeping it quiet and low-key so the emcees presenting just a few feet away wouldn't catch them.
Hypocrisy shared is friendship built.
As the assembly rolled in, the emcees shifted gears to the heavy stuff. They tackled the roles of future educators, introduced the courses—BTLED ICT, BSED English, and BEED—for the freshmen, and outlined upcoming school-related activities. Lastly, they moved on to the introduction and campaigning of future officers for the FEC, announcing that the election would be held next month.
Jiro listened—mostly. But really, he was busy chatting with Aprille.
The conversation flowed surprisingly well. Jiro pointed out absurd things about the event, and Aprille—who turned out to be a total vibe person and very approachable—couldn't help but smile and laugh every few minutes.
Eventually, they landed on the topic of origins.
"I'm from Talim Island," Aprille told him casually, gesturing to the girls beside her. "Same with Princess and Windy."
Jiro's eyebrows shot up. Talim Island?
It wasn't just a barrio. It was an island in the middle of Laguna de Bay—that dagger-shaped landmass visible on every map of Rizal, split between the municipalities of Binangonan in the west and Cardona in the east. For students, living there wasn't just about distance; it was about logistics.
There were no bridges. No jeepneys that could cross the water. The only lifeline to the mainland was the motorbanca—passenger boats that operated on strict schedules and the mercy of the weather. If a storm hit? Stranded. If the waves were too high? Canceled. If you missed the last trip? Good luck sleeping at the port.
It was a unique challenge. A logistical nightmare that made Jiro's 21-kilometer Morong trek look like a walk in the park.
"Woah," he whispered, impressed. "How do you go home then? Boat? Do you travel everyday?"
"No, that's absurd!" Aprille laughed. "We have a dorm here in Taytay. We only go home to the island once a week."
"Ah, okay. That makes sense."
Then, it was Jiro's turn to spill his lore.
"I was actually a STEM student," he began. "I aimed for Civil Engineering, but... I failed the entrance exam. Big time."
Aprille nodded, listening intently.
"I tried to enroll in Construction Technology," Jiro continued. "But I didn't like it. Too much labor. And actually... I was originally a student at the KSU Morong Campus."
"Oh, really?" Aprille looked surprised. "We've been there! The campus is huge, right? Many trees, very wide. But the commute... is difficult in the afternoon."
"Exactly," Jiro agreed. "That's why I left. Actually... I was supposed to be in BSED English."
He paused, letting the irony sink in.
"But suddenly... poof. I ended up in BEEd."
Aprille's eyes widened, then she laughed, patting his arm sympathetically.
"Ay, that's how it is," she said. "Will you stay with us? Hahaha. Just stay here, beh. Don't shift anymore, it's a hassle. Many of us fell here too, you know. Many of us were referred from here."
Jiro looked at her. He felt a mix of surprise and cynicism.
So I'm not the only one.
This section isn't just a group of aspiring teachers. It's a collection of people who fell through the cracks of the system.
I already knew how the world works when the system is flawed.
During the middle of their conversation, movement in the aisle caught his eye.
Hidy Medona was rushing down the side, her body bent low in a crouch-run to avoid blocking the view of the people behind her. She looked frantic but determined.
She finally reached the front row and collapsed into the reserved seat beside Princess.
The President has arrived.
But let's pause the scene right there.
Forget the speeches, the applause, and the humid air of the gymnasium. While the assembly was just getting started, a silent storm was already brewing in the background.
The morning rush on the road was stressful, sure. But the real "Rush Hour" had nothing to do with jeepneys or tricycles. It was a ticking bomb planted by Dr. Manazaki earlier that morning.
The KSU VMV Video Presentation.
Deadline:Monday, August 19.
Constraint:Sunday—Campus Closed.
Reality:They only have tomorrow.
One day. One Saturday. To gather an entire class, shoot a vlog, and edit a masterpiece inside the campus grounds.
While the BEEd 1-A students sat there, listening to the opening remarks, they were unknowingly already running out of time. The weekend wasn't going to be a break.
It was a timer.
END OF THE RUSH HOUR