“Why did they even let one contestant concede? Are they seriously that determined to beat us and bring us down?”

“Don’t get too special, Lichen,” Professor Kwon admonished, his face petered out. “They’d already done the same thing years ago, twice. And both times, we still landed the top spot without difficulty.”

“This is the first time they’d deliberately misinformed us about the coverage, though, isn't it?”

Professor Kwon equaled Yixing’s gander, giving nothing away until he confessed, “You are correct. This is the first time this school has been cheated.”

“Professor,” Lichen stood from her monobloc. “Don’t you think it’s about time we raised the matter?”

“I was thinking of the same thing,” Yixing seconded. “I think we deserve to be heard.”

Professor Kwon looked at me then, as though waiting for me to raise my opinion. To be honest, I wasn't in the mood for anything. I was very much frustrated with the IAC results, very much conflicted about my Prefect duties and very much riven over Sojin’s fresh acquaintance with Jongdae. Yes, I only opted to overlook the matter earlier so I could concentrate on the IAC. But now, when I still had a few more hours before I was to face my next quandary, I was certain the bitter claws of jealousy were once again ripping apart my heart.

Sojin, apparently, was not in a chirpy mood either. She hadn't spoken since the results came out, and I couldn't tell if she were disappointed of our performance, or relieved that we still had the chance to redeem ourselves. Her demeanor had returned to its impassable state.

This time, I didn’t bother deconstructing it.

I was sulking, to say the least. I had no right - I knew that, but it didn’t wash the bitter feeling away regardless.

“Luhan,” Lichen called out.

When I turned to her, I felt Sojin’s gaze settle on me in my peripheral vision. It took all of my willpower to not gaze back into her eyes. Stupid jealousy.

“Whichever you think is appropriate, Professor,” I said at last, to both Lichen and Yixing’s disappointment.

There was only one more opinion to be considered now: Sojin’s.

The faculty lounge seemed smaller today. And darker. Only one window was opened, the one where Sojin was settled closest to - she probably slid it agape to diminish the confinement. Peeking out, I could see that the previously clear skies were now blanketed with low, gray clouds. Rain was probably just a few minutes away. I cut my gawk upon the heavenlies and fixed my eyes upon Sojin - very momentarily. I looked away the instant our gazes met.

But through my peripheral I could see her boring holes into her lap when she finally voiced her sentiment. “I think..” she began, her voice small, “that it would only make us appear like sore losers if we raised the matter now.”

Lichen never really questioned Sojin on serious matters, but today she surprisingly did. "How can you say that?” she demanded. “We deserve to be heard, Sojin. This injustice cannot go unaddressed."

"I know, Lichen. It's just that the timing is too.. inconvenient. So they cheated us, why didn't we say anything before?"

"Because it was too late!"

"No, it wasn't." Sojin sighed. "We didn't say anything because we accepted the affliction and we were determined to rise above it -"

"It's not -"

"But now that we are on the verge of defeat, we're gonna complain? Think about it, Lichen," Sojin pleaded. "Think about it."

She was right. How reporting this wrongdoing could seriously damage the school’s reputation, I could only imagine. And no way would I allow them to perceive us and this school as sore losers. Sojin’s contention was right, after all. How darned right she was.

"Sojin," Lichen said, determined to refute her friend. "It was a mistake not to raise this earlier, but I'm hoping we won't make the mistake of completely overlooking this."

"I didn't say we overlook this completely. I only said the timing is too inconvenient."

"How can you still consider convenience at this point? This injustice is one too grave that we can't afford to keep overlooking."

"This injustice, however minimal or monumental you may view it, is the same as any other injustice, Lichen. And unfortunately for us, there’s too much at stake. The school's reputation, retention of the crown.." She released a heavy sough and, seemingly resigned from elaborating her point further, turned towards our trainer. "Professor Kwon?"

He didn’t even spare a second of contemplation. "Sojin is right," he said almost immediately.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Lichen threw her hands up in frustration. “Why did you even choose her?” she pressed, gesturing towards Sojin. "She was our greatest contender and yet you let her concede! Why would you do that?"

"Lichen, stop it," Yixing had stepped forward in a poise to constrain an extremely vanquished Lichen.

"We would have nailed this easily if you had let me or Yixing step down instead. But you didn't. You just had to pick the best player among -"

“Read this,” Sojin cut Lichen midsentence and handed her a set of stapled papers. She didn’t wait for Lichen to finish skimming the sheets entirely and explained, “In cases where a contestant is being asked to withdraw early on during the contest, the lower two of the four contestants in terms of academic performance in the current school year must remain in the contest.”

What was that again? The lower two of the four in terms of academic performance? Why the hell were we not informed of this?

“So we really had no choice,” Yixing commented, disbelief painted vividly across his face. “Why weren’t we informed of this? How much have we been uninformed exactly?”

“I knew about this,” Professor Kwon said. “But I didn’t think they would use this card for this competition. After all, it’s been more than five years already since they last asked for a contestant to withdraw earlier than the others.”

“But the other schools knew, right?” Lichen blurted, getting more and more scandalized. “Oh gosh - but the contest master said anyone.”

“It was a trick to test if any of the contestants actually read the contest guidelines,” Sojin said, a shadow of a tired smile playing along her lips. “Luckily for them, they did read the contest guidelines.”

“Did you?” Lichen demanded of Sojin, her tone skeptical. Sojin only smiled back. “Of course.” Lichen rolled her eyes. “You’ve practically memorized even the unabridged version of the student handbook. Gosh, why would they even include that nonsensical stipulation in the contest anyway? It’s nonsensical enough, what they did earlier. To make one contestant withdraw, I mean.” Lichen handed the papers back to Sojin in frustration.

“To prove that even the prejudiced weakest links can bring home the crown,” Sojin murmured back, but I doubted anybody else had heard it. It made me look at her at last, but she was already gazing out the window.

“You know,” Professor Kwon said, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his heaving chest. “We could save ourselves considerable time if we’ll just focus on tomorrow’s clincher.”

“You’re definitely not sending me,” Yixing declared at once. “And I will definitely not accept either.”

“Me neither,” Lichen agreed, nodding her head. “There is no way I am representing this school ever again.” I had to admit, I was rather impressed with the rapidity within which Lichen's disposition morphed; from insistently objecting Sojin and our trainer to completely cooperating with tomorrow's matter. "So Yixing and I are crossed out as choices."

As if on cue, the two of them, along with Professor Kwon, turned their heads towards me and Sojin. They were expecting either of us to represent the school tomorrow.

“As much as I’d like to volunteer Sojin, I highly doubt she would agree.” We waited for anyone to comment on Lichen’s statement. No one did. Well, knowing Sojin, it would probably take some fair amount of wheedling to get her to agree. Or would she perhaps have this as an exception?

Ah, but if she wouldn’t agree, I could always take the spot. Finally indulging in my pride, I said, “I can go.”

Much to my surprise, though, Sojin objected. “No,” she alleged, her voice thick with determination. It was obvious how she had rendered us all speechless by her firm protest. For a moment I thought she was only trying to curtail my confidence by negating, but then she added, turning to face me, “You have a hearing to attend to tomorrow. You can’t represent the school for the IAC clincher.”

What was it with her and hearings, really? Did her own hearing two years ago impact her that much? I forced my frown to unknot. “Well then, will you?” I challenged her. “Represent this school?”

She held up a steady and fiery gaze. My challenge did not faze her. “Where is your confidence in your teammates that you are pushing yourself to neglect your duties just to win the IAC?”

“You’re the one always deciding to remain in the background,” I barked back. I wasn’t sure where all this vehemence was stemming from, but I didn’t bother holding it in. Perhaps my frustration had reached its limit and I was only using this ridiculous jealousy I was feeling towards Sojin and the guys she’d been intimately acquainted to as a perfect venue to vent.

Her expression never changed. “I didn’t decide to withdraw from the IAC, Luhan,” she defended.

“You most certainly didn’t fight for it either.”

She scoffed. “What did you think it meant when I paused by your table before I finally made my exit?”

What? Upon her declaration, the memory of her stopping by my table earlier in the auditorium flashed in my head. But I only remembered her passing me a smile. How the heck was that supposed to convey anything?

Sojin ignored my confusion and resumed, “I was a hopeless nervous wreck but I would have stayed in the competition. I promise you I would have.”

It still didn’t make any sense. “But Professor Kwon -"

“You were my first choice, Luhan,” Professor Kwon interrupted. “Between you and Sojin, it was you whom I initially wanted to concede.”

I was no longer only frustrated. I was also growing cross by the minute. Why did it seem like they were ganging up against me?

“So why didn’t you choose me?” I risked asking. My question made our trainer narrow his eyes and throw me a once-over; it felt a little degrading.

It was Sojin who exclaimed, “Are you being serious?” Her eyes were looking glassy with disbelief. “You’re even willing to forego the hearing for tomorrow just to compete in the IAC clincher, and now you’re telling us you would have conceded earlier?”

“I..” I meant to say yes. I ached to say yes, to show her that I could do away with it; that the competition wasn’t as important an endeavor alongside court hearings. But, no, I could not. Ah, heck, she was right. The thought of withdrawing from the difficult round earlier didn’t even cross my mind. I was det