The Student Council's First Mission
“Annyeong my butt.”
Jane set Nephthys down on the floor and smacked the top of her head.
‘Owyang!’ Nephthys let out a wail, clutching the struck spot with tears welling in her eyes.
“That hurt!”
Jane's expression didn't change one bit.
“How did you get in here?”
“Weeell~ I was clinging to the tea cart, that's how!”
Jane rose from her seat and glanced at Meilin. Meilin, quick on the uptake, stepped aside, and Jane lifted Nephthys as she was and seated her at the head of the table.
“We are in the middle of instructing students. Is there something you'd like to say to them?”
“Nope!”
Nephthys grinned shamelessly.
“I'm just here to eat!”
“If you're going to be a disruption, kindly go back.”
“No way!”
Nephthys raised her hand toward the henchmen.
“Snacks! Bring me more snacks!”
“Yes, ma'am!”
The real, flesh-and-blood Nephthys.
The henchman who received the order dashed out with a stricken look on his face. Jane glared at Nephthys for a long moment, then resumed the students' instruction.
“Since Lady Nephthys has graced us with her presence, let me explain. The Student Council answers directly to the Headmaster.”
Simon and the others nodded along.
“And among all the students of Kizen, the only one who may request a private audience with the Headmaster and propose student matters is the Student Council President alone.”
Nephthys let out a ‘hem-hem!’ and crossed her arms. With cookie crumbs smeared all over her mouth, she didn't cut a particularly dignified figure.
“Goodness.”
Jane pulled out a handkerchief and, with unmistakable devotion, scrubbed her superior's mouth clean. ‘Wubub! Bubub!’ Nephthys squirmed in protest, and watching her, Simon allowed himself a faint smile.
Beside him, on the other hand, Rick, Meilin, and Camibarez sat rigid with tension, staring straight ahead.
Jane folded the ruined handkerchief neatly away and put her stern expression back on.
“Is that all clear?”
“Yes, Professor!”
“Then, as Vice Principal of Kizen, I hereby issue the Student Council its first mission.”
Their first mission.
It was the moment the four of them reached peak focus.
“The freshmen's entrance ceremony, the day after tomorrow.”
Jane smiled.
“It will be the Student Council's responsibility. You will manage the event yourselves and see it through to a successful conclusion. That is all.”
The freshmen's entrance ceremony was one of Kizen's biggest events. It was an enormous undertaking for a very first mission.
“All the necessary documents are here.”
Jane pulled a thick stack of papers from her bag and dropped it onto the table with a thud.
“The schedule is already drawn up and the basic framework is all in place. Add whatever you can add here, and change whatever you think should be changed. You're welcome to attempt something new with supplemental budget as well.”
‘Ah, so we can just throw money around!’ Nephthys had chimed in — and Jane smacked the top of her head once more.
“This crown-crusher!”
Lightly ignoring Nephthys's protest, Jane continued.
“The Student Council inauguration ceremony was originally set for the day after tomorrow, but to carry out this mission, a befitting gift is in order, wouldn't you say?”
With that, she reached into her bag and drew something out.
“Goodness!”
Moved to the point of tears, Meilin covered her mouth. Rick, unable to hide his excitement either, clenched his fist, while Simon and Camibarez exchanged smiles.
That was the very symbol of power — the thing that made confidence well up just from wearing it on your arm.
The Student Council armband, worn only by the council's executive officers.
“Now, come one at a time.”
Jane graciously fastened the armband around each student's right arm in turn. Nephthys giggled.
“They suit you!”
All four of them, faces flushed, fiddled with the armbands on their arms.
“Then I place my trust in you. The 330th Student Council.”
“Do your best!”
To the adults' encouragement, the four students answered with vigor.
“Yes, ma'am!”
At the same time.
The Forbidden Forest.
“Whew!”
A third-year boy with a shovel wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“This deep enough, yeah?”
“Good.”
Before them gaped a large pit. A pipe dropped into it with a heavy thunk.
Gloop. Gloop. Gloop.
An unidentified liquid with a rancid stench was filling the pit through the pipe. The students around it pinched their noses or gagged.
—Uuuuaaaargh!
—Aaaaargh!
The pool's surface rippled, and this time zombies stirring within it flailed their outstretched arms about.
“All set.”
Wil, ranked twelfth overall, smirked as he watched the scene.
“And the booze for the kids to drink?”
“Prepped.”
“The main event?”
“Sounds like it just kicked off.”
He pointed to one side of the forest. Rowdy laughter was drifting in from all over.
“Very good.”
The corners of Wil's mouth curled into a smirk.
“Round them up. Let's get started before the Student Council butts in.”
Simon's 330th Student Council dove straight into its first meeting.
The four of them sat in a circle around the central sofa. They'd been handed a heavy responsibility from the very start, so their shoulders felt weighed down — but their enthusiasm was overflowing.
The heart of the discussion was ‘an entrance ceremony that would actually help the freshmen.’
“How about this? A segment where the seniors personally introduce each department in front of the freshmen!”
Meilin proposed it in a loud voice.
When the other three reacted somewhat lukewarmly, she quickly added:
“You all remember first year, right? On the first day of each professor's class, they have you form teams for the group project.”
“That's how we all met.”
Rick said.
“It was so cool when Simon brought Meilin into Group 7!”
Camibarez giggled. Meilin's face went bright red in an instant.
“Ugh, ah! Anyway, don't drift off into old memories! Focus, focus!”
She rapped the table and drew the three pairs of eyes back to her.
“The thing is, we have to declare our major within two or three days of enrolling, and at that point nobody really knows which subjects they're good at. They don't even know what the classes cover.”
Simon could immediately see where Meilin was going with this.
For the first-year group projects, it was advantageous to form teams out of students aiming for non-overlapping majors.
But it was surprisingly hard for four students each pursuing different majors to find one another. In the worst cases, extreme combinations like ‘three Magic Combat majors and one Toxicology major’ had come about.
Students whose intended majors weren't yet firmly decided would pick somewhat random subjects just to complete their teams, and they spent their entire first year grinding away at subjects that didn't suit them at all, paying the price for it.
‘Hmm.’
Simon, deep in thought, spoke up.
“So the idea is to have seniors give advice so freshmen can make the right choice when forming their teams? Not bad.”
“Yes, yes! That's exactly it, Simon!”
Meilin clapped her hands together in delight.
“Hmm~ Well, I don't really see it as a big problem, even now.”
Rick raised an objection.
“I was aiming for Jet-Black Mechanics, and Meilin, you chose Curses too. And we all found our places just fine in second year, so what's the issue?”
“You idiot! That was only possible because I was elite in every subject back then! Other kids don't have that kind of range to choose from!”
“And out of nowhere, she brags about herself.”
“Um, but from what I've heard from the kids in our class...”
Camibarez spoke up. All three of them perked up their ears and focused on her.
“They said that because of your team position, you can't help but study your assigned subject especially hard. Even if you discover an eye for Curses later on and it turns out you love it, you have to be careful around the Curse major on your team.”
“......”
Listening to this, Simon closed his eyes.
He remembered what Aaron had said in their first Summoning class.
—In the classes you attended before this one, I imagine you heard a lot about how wonderful our major is, and why you simply must choose it.
—Personally, I'm against that. Students should be told both the strengths and the weaknesses, clearly, so they can make a proper, informed choice.
Those words still left a deep impression on Simon.
“Meilin and Cami are right.”
Simon opened his eyes and summed it up.
“Other than what the professors tell us on the first day of class, there's almost no real explanation of each major. So if we seniors talk about the pros and cons of each subject from a student's honest point of view, wouldn't that genuinely help the freshmen?”
“Yes! I'm in favor!”
“Me too!”
“Put that way, it does sound necessary.”
With Rick finally on board, the proposal was adopted.
The four of them then worked out a concrete plan.
“If we're doing this, we need objectivity. Best to have an actual major from each department come out and speak.”
At Rick's words, Meilin rested her chin on her hand.
“So should we ask the second-year Department Representatives?”
“You think they'd do it?”
Rick shook his head.
“Besides, permission aside, there's no need to start owing favors and making awkward requests to people we'll be butting heads with for the rest of our time here.”
Camibarez nodded too.
“The Department Representatives are directly tied to their department's interests, so I doubt they could speak honestly about the downsides from a student's perspective!”
Meilin agreed at once.
“Right, so we just pick non-representative majors regardless of grades? No need to overcomplicate it? I'll handle Jet-Black Mechanics myself.”
There was indeed no need to look far. Meilin looked at the other two.
“Summoning is obviously Simon, and Hemomancy is Cami!”
“I-Is it okay if it's me? My grades aren't that high...”
“Grades don't matter! You're speaking honestly from your experience as a senior who's studied it a year longer! And Toxicology is...”
As Meilin turned her head, Rick was pointing at himself with an expression full of hope.
“We'll ask Claudia.”
“WHY?!”
Rick slammed the table and shot to his feet.
“You literally just said grades don't matter!”
“Still, four hundredth place is a bit much, you blockhead. It should at least be ‘a student who actually studies’ doing the talking, don't you think?”
“Guh—!”
Out of arguments, Rick sank back into his seat and grumbled.
“...Fine. If it's for my own dignity, I'll raise my grades if it kills me.”
Camibarez gave an awkward little laugh, then turned back to everyone.
“Then how about we ask Jamie for the Curse department?”
Simon nodded.
“Good. I'll ask Cindy for the Spirit department myself.”
Jamie Victoria, Claudia Menzies, Cindy Vivace.
All three were high-ranking talents with solid recognition as majors in their fields. Since they were friendly with the group as well, they'd likely agree to the request without hesitation.
“Let's see, where were we.”
Rick counted off on his fingers.
“What's left is Curse, Spirit, Summoning, Hemomancy, Mechanics... ah, Magic Combat! Anyone here know someone in the Magic Combat department?”
Meilin and Camibarez shook their heads, and Simon, after a moment's thought, raised his hand.
“If nobody else does, leave it to me.”
“Okay! Then it's all settled!”
And so a new segment was created for the entrance ceremony.
The four of them also discussed stage equipment and special effects, and decided to put together guidelines as well.
“Dark magic is banned indoors, but we can get a permit for this, right?”
“I'll talk to Professor Jane.”
Simon said, jotting notes into his notebook. Though the budget is cutting it a little close.
“Guys! Guys! I found a way to save on the budget!”
Meilin, flipping through the documents, shouted.
With her quill, she circled the name of the entrance ceremony's emcee round and round.
“The emcee is this Jason guy, and even for a celebrity, isn't he a bit pricey for one day of the entrance ceremony?”
Simon bowed his head.
Jason Biker. Daily rate: 50 gold.
Expensive, no question.
“You want to replace him?”
“Yep. For a mere 10 gold, I can bring in someone way more famous.”
“Just 10 gold? For who?”
Meilin gave a meaningful smile and wrote a new name above it.
Seiwir Griezmann
“This big-talking illusion talent worked at the theater with me over the break. He's hugely famous in Langestin.”
“Sounds great!”
Camibarez clapped her hands like a seal, but Rick looked a little uncertain.
“But this guy's stock has got to be at an all-time high right now. You can really land him for just 10 gold?”
“Oh, absolutely! He'll come running the second I call. Plus, I think he feels like he owes us. And best of all, if we bring him in, his illusion talent can replace all sorts of stage effects. Extra cost savings!”
Simon was impressed.
“That's a genuinely good move.”
“Ahem! That's the Vice President's skill for you!”
Rick immediately finished his calculations on a blank sheet of paper.
“Then with the budget left over, let's prepare wine for the VIPs.”
Meilin narrowed her eyes.
“Why the heck are we serving booze to old fogies?”
“Tsk tsk, it's all about the impression.”
Rick spoke seriously.
“VIPs who've retired from the field and gotten on in years are people who love being pampered more than ever. They show up without a thought, a henchman comes right over, says, ‘The students have prepared this for you,’ and pours their wine. Now — are they going to be moved by that or not?”
“......”
Meilin propped her chin on her hand, and Rick went on.
“In Dresden noble etiquette there's a thing called the ‘Old Chair,’ and that's what we're recreating! For the cost of a single glass of wine, this Student Council gets a reputation for having class. Hardly any council has ever prepared something like this.”
Simon nodded.
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Let's do it.”
Since Rick, who had actually run a business, knew the territory of adults best, they left that part to him.
The four of them kept the meeting going late into the night.
Perhaps it was the weight of being responsible for the entrance ceremony, but their energy never flagged for an instant.
There were plenty of ideas, and frankly, it felt like they could have gone on all night.
“By the way, Meilin — can you actually get Seiwir?”
“A hundred percent! His season just ended and he's got nothing to do, so he'll come right away!”
“Simon, Simon! Looking at last year's entrance ceremony complaints, it says a lot of the chairs were broken!”
“Right. Let's go check the Great Auditorium tomorrow.”
“Ooh, look at this. The elders give way too many speeches. Everyone's choking to death — can't we cut them down?”
“I'll put in a request with Professor Jane.”
And so the meeting drew to a close.
Just as Simon stood up to brew some coffee.
“Hmm?”
A little white slip of paper was sticking out of his trouser pocket.
Come to think of it, the gift she owed him was still waiting.