Jisung laughed nervously, secretly hoping Minho wouldn't walk into his rounds. Helping him with prep was one thing, but to physically stare into his soul and silently judge every inch of his movements and decision calculus was inadvertently unbearable. 

Judgement Day? Not this weekend, no thank you.

------------------------------

"On behalf of the Wellington School and the entire District of Modenna, thank you all for coming today." The man on stage, the tournament director, spoke into the microphone, looking out at a sea of faces.

The auditorium in Wellington, similar to the Academy, was huge. It was packed with hundreds of students, staff members, and judges, all watching the single panel of people up there give opening addresses. 

Nobody was paying attention. Every single one of them had been through this process every September, on the last weekend of the month. The same words, the same procedures, the same generic rehashing of "good luck this year" and other encouraging yet meaningless words.

Naturally, they were all waiting for the same thing: their first assignments.

"As you all may know, from experience or from your public forums, the last weekend of September marks the start of the debate season everywhere, as schools in countries all around the world are given the privilege to host a Season Opener tournament, one of the most sought-after and well-known tournaments of the year. Here at Wellington, we are proud to be able to do the same." He droned on.

Jisung slouched down in his chair. They were sitting relatively far in the back. "They seriously need a better way to do these things."

Next to him, Minho nodded. He had come rushing into the school thirty minutes before assembly, slightly out of breath. 

The team almost didn't even recognize him at first, and he also drew some suspicious stares from other people for the dark hoodie pulled over his hair and the black mask covering half his face—for obvious reasons, of course.

It's not every day a celebrity returns to the spotlight, and Minho was going to make sure today wasn't one of those days. 

So being labeled as a potential murderer on campus? He would take that over being recognized.

"Wellington runs their tournaments actually fairly well," he whispered to Jisung, keeping his voice from being recognized by people in front of and behind him. "I still can't believe I never realized these guys were part of the City."

Jisung shrugged. "You only competed at Wellington's Season Opener one time, so it's not like you had to know about their general geography. Plus, Modenna's like the most boring district here and there's no contending that."

"Yeah, but it was my favourite Season Opener out of all the other ones. It's probably one of the smaller ones, compared to Paris and London's, but trust me, it's so much better in terms of organization and quality of competition."

"I can't exactly argue with you here. I've only ever been to Wellington's."

"Lunch will be around twelve thirty to two thirty, right after your third preliminary round," a woman had replaced the man who was previously at the podium. "Our school's cafeterias are open with many menu options, and you are always open to eat your own brought lunches, of course."

"When is your first round?" 

"Nine fifteen, supposedly."

Minho wrinkled his nose. "They're cutting it really close, then. Forty-five minutes per round, with a thirty minute break in between. It's down to the wire."

Minsung | Rule Number FiveWhere stories live. Discover now