September 15 (Sunday)
1:33 PM
The calm of a Sunday afternoon was always an illusion. With the preliminary examinations scheduled to crash down on them the very next day, the tension across the BEEd 1-A cohort was practically suffocating. The air was thick with the silent, collective dread of impending academic assessments.
Before Jiro Sanata could even mobilize for his second week of tutoring his four-year-old niece in basic Geography, his smartphone shattered the quiet of his room.
The internal circle of the COF - BEEd 1A was in a state of absolute administrative panic.
The focus of their distress was the ever-shifting, unpredictable rules of the National Service Training Program (NSTP). Just last Friday, Dr. Manazaki had vaguely announced that all LTS documents—the lesson plans, the documentation, and the journals—needed to be physically printed and submitted inside a sliding folder.
But the digital infrastructure was telling a completely different story.
Mira Palida: "Uy, guys. Why is the GDrive link that Hidy sent for LTS closed?"
She was referring to the exact same Google Drive where Jiro had previously engineered his flawless, multi-tiered subfolders.
Ivyn Giron: "Beh, it is still closed."
Mira Palida: "Ay, in LTS?"
Lying flat on his mattress, Jiro let out a long, heavy sigh. The communication breakdown between the digital portal and the physical requirements was a classic manifestation of the campus bureaucracy. He tapped his screen to cut through the confusion.
Jiro Sanata: "Beh, all documents in LTS should be printed."
The sudden reality of a massive printing requirement sent the girls into a spiral. They were under the impression that only the initial proposal and Mr. Brackin's RPH historical analysis required physical submission. Now, their financial resources were about to be drained by an entirely new batch of paperwork.
Mira frantically tried to list down the exact inventory needed.
Mira Palida: "Wait, so the lesson plan, PPT, journal, and the video documentation should also be printed?"
Jiro typed out his confirmation, mirroring the exact list.
And then, the absolute absurdity of the situation hit the group chat.
Niewi Voeliè: "Wat, the video should also be printed?"
The digital tension instantly shattered. The chat flooded with "HAHAHAHA" and laughing emojis. The sheer, ridiculous image of trying to physically print a moving video file was the exact kind of comedic relief their exhausted brains desperately needed.
Jiro chuckled quietly, shaking his head at his screen. He quickly clarified the logic behind the terrifying demand, translating the professor's strict mandate.
Jiro Sanata: "Just in case beh, as per Doc. Because he will submit it in the Morong campus eh."
Ah. Morong. The main base of operations and Jiro's former campus. The place where physical, undeniable proof was the only currency that mattered.
Jiro then delivered the final, fatal detail of their required loadout. He reminded them about the specific sliding folder Dr. Manazaki had mandated to encase their documents.
The realization triggered a new wave of anxiety. More expenses. More printing fees. More specific office supplies to hunt down on a Sunday afternoon.
Niewi, naturally wired to question the system, refused to accept the heavy financial extraction without a fight.
Niewi Voeliè: "Afaik, I heard only the demographic or proposal should be printed eh."
Her resistance was immediately backed up by the rest of the squad.
Ivyn Giron: "True."
Mira Palida: "We heard the same with Cicille. This Jiro seems to be the only crazy one BWAHAHAH."
Ivyn Giron: "Advance eh."
Jiro stared at their messages. His Apex Strategist mind didn't flinch. He trusted his auditory retention. While the rest of the class had likely tuned out the exhausting barrage of instructions at the end of Friday's lecture, he had cataloged every single word.
Jiro Sanata: "Because that is what I heard eh, documentations should also be printed."
He wasn't going to argue. He delivered the intel, it was up to them to secure the necessary items.
Realizing that fighting the instructions wouldn't save them from a potential failing grade, the tall muse immediately pivoted into her natural element. The merchant mode was activated.
Mira Palida: "Beh, who wants to pasabuy the sliding folder with me?"
The girls quickly flooded the chat with their orders, organizing a mass procurement operation to survive the impending Monday deadline.
3:10 PM
With the digital crisis momentarily paused, Jiro pulled himself off his mattress. It was time to execute his own physical requirements.
He packed his necessary materials and headed out into his neighborhood to conduct Week 2 of his LTS tutoring program. He arrived at his relative's house, sitting down with his four-year-old niece.
Since she was practically a child genius who could already read, write, and speak fluent English, Jiro maintained his specialized syllabus. They focused on basic landforms. He provided a simple drawing activity, letting her sketch mountains and valleys on a piece of paper.
But Jiro's dual-core processing was fully engaged.
He set up one of his smartphones on the table, activating the camera to record a timelapse of the session. Video documentation secured.
With his hands free and the child happily drawing, Jiro pulled out his secondary device. He didn't waste a single second of the required one-hour session. He opened his digital notes and began aggressively reviewing for the impending apocalypse. RPH. MMW. FIL 1. ART 1.
He was rapidly absorbing dates, equations, discourse theories, and artistic terminologies while simultaneously supervising a preschooler. The cognitive load was immense, a true test of his mental endurance.
After exactly one hour of intense multitasking, the session concluded.
He packed up his gear, said his goodbyes, and navigated the short walk back. He arrived home at exactly 4:30 PM, his brain practically throbbing with historical facts and mathematical formulas.
6:23 PM
Just right after Jiro asked Mira, Niewi, and Ivyn in the COF - BEEd 1A group chat if there was really an exam tomorrow, they responded that they didn't know; they only knew about the impending RPH quiz with Sir Jimmy. Seeking broader intel, the tall muse took the query straight to the main server.
Mira Palida: "Good evening @everyone, do we have exams tomorrow po? @Jiro Sanata was asking eh."
Jiro stared at his phone screen. His deadpan expression hardened, his internal monologue instantly boiling over.
How dare you mention my name.
He was a ghost. A lurker. He preferred to operate in the shadows, gathering information without leaving a digital footprint. Being explicitly tagged in front of the entire section was a massive breach of his stealth protocol.
Minutes later, the 29-year-old Lore Master replied, cutting through the confusion.
Reo Bairo: "None beh. Just a quiz in RPH tomorrow, Sir Jimmy hasn't announced his exam yet. Then exam on Friday for Doc Rick MMW. And then exam on Saturday for Sir Jeypi FIL and ART."
A wave of heart reactions immediately washed over Reo's message from the anxious cohort.
Mira Palida: "Thank you po, Ate!"
As the dust settled, the reality of the academic calendar became painfully clear. The September 16 and 17 Preliminary examination schedule officially posted on the university campus page was merely a suggestion. The instructors and professors operated on their own independent timelines, dictating when and how they would conduct their periodical assessments. The system wasn't unified; it was fractured.
To officially cement the localized schedules, the Commander sent a crucial announcement to the group chat. She forwarded a screenshot directly from the COE Dean. The message clearly stated that if a subject still had a "TBA" professor listed, then no exams would be conducted for that specific subject.
Hidy followed up with a secondary reminder.
Hidy Medona: "Guys, wait for the updated student portal schedule po ah."
Many BEEd 1-A cohorts noted the incoming patch updates. Throughout the long Sunday night, the freshmen were busy finalizing their printing runs for the RPH Historical Analysis activity, which was due the next day, while aggressively reviewing their notes for the impending Monday quiz. The weekend was officially over, and the Prelims era had begun.
September 16 (Monday)
1:05 PM
Hours after she finished her night shift in a BPO office as a call center agent and working student, Cosma arrived at the campus while riding on a motorcycle with her partner, Sam. She slid off the motorcycle seat, took off her helmet, and handed it to her partner.
They shared a quick cheek kiss.
"Take care on the road, beh," Cosma said.
"Okie, bye bye now!" Sam replied happily.
Cosma waved her hand as Sam's motorcycle began to fade into the horizon. She turned around and entered the campus gates. She navigated past the guard house, greeting the personnel, and walked down the main ground floor hallway. She passed by random COE students wearing their signature uneven shades of blue uniforms, CON students looking immaculate in their pristine white uniforms, and a few scattered freshmen still stuck in plain white polo shirts and jeans.
She reached Room 406, entered through the already open back doorway, and finally took a seat in the fifth row, right beside the back door. She opened her phone and began to scroll in silence.
On the opposite side of the room, right beside the window-backyard section, Mekayla Sano was heavily focused on her hands. She was an experienced crocheter. Her right hand expertly held the crochet hook, while her left hand managed the looped yarn, continuously weaving a small purse. Beside her, Nica Rosa was busy scrolling through TikTok feeds, completely entertained. Just a few seats away, Cristel Basha, Tiffany Diez, and Rechele Eve were chatting loudly, their voices carrying across the relatively empty room.
1:43 PM
Mira Palida and Niewi Voeliè arrived in Room 406. They occupied the fourth row, sitting right in front of Cosma Ibana.
"Hi, Cosma!" they greeted her casually as they sat down.
The two immediately began to chatter, with Niewi being especially talkative to Mira.
Meanwhile, shortly after they sat down, Jiro arrived. He bypassed the back rows entirely and claimed his usual spot on the second-row aisle. He initiated his standard resting ritual. He plugged his earphones into his ears, placed his red earphone pouch right beside his phone on the armchair desk, and realized he had forgotten to load his mobile data. Without internet access, he just rested his head on his desk, pretending to sleep while the rock music blasted locally from his downloaded playlist.
Back in the fourth row, door-hallway section, Mira and Niewi's chatter steadily became louder. They were busy scrolling on TikTok, and their conversation unintentionally hit the absolute peak of the spoken truth.
They began to talk about and poke fun at the tomboys they were seeing on their TikTok feeds.
"Uy, Mira, what are your thoughts on this tomboy here?" Niewi asked, pointing at her screen and giggling.
"Oh, ah, for me..." Mira laughed, casually throwing out some playful, slightly mocking commentary about the video's aesthetic and vibe. "They look so funny trying to act like that eh hahaha!"
Just right behind them, Cosma heard everything. She heard the word 'tomboy', she heard the laughter, and she instantly assumed they were talking about her.
Her internal monologue went into absolute shock. The spoken truth had unintentionally hit her so hard.
What a crap?! Cosma panicked internally, her chest tightening. Are they talking about Sam and me?!
She felt deeply offended. Without saying a single word, she aggressively packed her sling bag. She stood up abruptly, abandoning her seat, and swapped chairs entirely. She migrated across the room, claiming a spot in the completely empty third row of the window-backyard section.
Both Mira and Niewi stopped laughing. They looked back at the empty fifth-row seat, completely confused as to why Cosma had suddenly packed up and swapped seats right in the middle of their conversation.
From his spot in the second row, Jiro casually lifted his head. He saw the exact moment Cosma aggressively swapped seats. The heavy rock music was still blasting in his ears, leaving him completely deaf to the context. He just stared at the sudden, awkward migration, absolutely stunned.
END OF THE SPOKEN TRUTH