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“So,” Elira began, picking up a marker and holding it up to the blank whiteboard. “Does anyone have any ideas on what we should do for the upcoming school festival?”
The silence was overwhelming—clueless stares blinked back at her. Elira sighed in exasperation. “Come on, guys," she urged. "We have to do something!”
Sitting at the small table filled with snacks, Shu raised a hand. “Uh, sorry to interrupt, president, but not all of our members are here right now. We can't really decide on anything yet.”
“Yeah, where did Finana-senpai go?” Kaelix mused from where he stood staring out the window. “I thought she was here today.”
“Oh, she'll be here,” Elira said dismissively, as if she knew something they didn't. She rapped the marker against the whiteboard sharply, catching their attention. “We need to figure out what to do for the festival. It's in three days!”
The room fell into silence once more, this time of contemplative and deep thought.
“What if we do a maid cafe? That doesn’t seem too hard.”
“Yeah, but everyone’s gonna be doing that, though. We have to do something unique.”
“How about we run a stall?” Shu suggested. “That's pretty simple.”
“And sell what?”
“I don't know, Yu Q. Wilson merchandise.”
That sent Kaelix into a fit of giggles, covering his mouth with a hand. “What, like t-shirts with his face on them?”
“Yes, and we'd have ‘giga super’ written on them. In the Willy Font! That's genius.” Elira immediately turned and jotted that idea down with glee. Giga Super Shirt. “Oh, he is so gonna hate this.”
"More like hate us."
“I think he's already sick of us,” Kaelix said, with a grin on his face. “This would make him lose his mind. I can already imagine him seething.”
“But where do we get a bajillion custom t-shirts?” Elira wondered aloud.
“Would anyone actually buy any, though?” Shu asked, leaning backward. “I mean, who else would besides, like, the obvious?”
“People bought the real shirt last year,” Elira pointed out, but she crossed the idea off the board anyway. She squinted at its lack of scribbles, frowning. What were they even supposed to do? They were practically a fan club.
“Maybe we don't have to do anything,” Kaelix suddenly said, as if struck by a realization. He seemed to shrink when his upperclassmen turned to him, a faint blush on his cheeks. “It's not like we're an official club, so we're not obligated to do a performance or anything.”
“About that,” Shu said. “Isn’t—”
An unexpected rapping at the door interrupted Shu. The knock snapped them out of their thoughts. Finana would just open the door, so who could that possibly be?
Elira cleared her throat. “Come in,” she called.
The door opened with a quiet click.
“Have you guys figured out what you're doing for the cultural festival yet?” Uki looked up from his clipboard—his gaze immediately fell on the whiteboard in the corner of the room. “Oh.”
“Not exactly,” Shu said. “We've had a little trouble coming up with ideas.”
“Well, you'd better think of something fast. The festival’s in three days, you know,” Uki reminded them.
“Wait, we actually have to do something?” Kaelix asked. “I thought we were an unofficial club. You know,” he gestured vaguely to himself and his fellow Wilsoneers, “self-established.”
“If you weren't official, then why would you have an advisor?”
“We have an advisor?” Elira gaped. Uki wordlessly handed her the clipboard. “‘The Wilsoneer Club,’” she read aloud. “‘Elira Pendora — President. Kaelix Debonair — Vice President. Shu Yamino — Secretary. Finana Ryugu — Treasurer. Uki Violeta — Honorary Officer. Advisor…’” she trailed off, blinking in shock. “Yu Q. Wilson?!”
“What?!” Kaelix practically screeched, eyes shot wide. “Let me see that.” His gaze scanned down the paper, before giving the clipboard back to Uki. “No way, it’s real. Hey, I didn't know you were our officer, Uki.”
“Trust me, I didn’t know I was a member of this club either.” Uki grimaced.
“Wilson's our advisor?” Elira muttered, still in disbelief. “How did that even happen? He's a student, too!”
“Oh, yeah,” Shu said, snapping his fingers. “You remember how we were advocating for a club room a couple months ago? Well, Wilson came up to me with one of our posters and was like…"
________________
“Shu Yamino! What is the meaning of this?”
Shu turned his head to see none other than Yu Q. Wilson glaring at him, holding up a familiar paper in his hand. It was identical to the same one he was stapling onto the bulletin board.
“Oh, hi, Wilson,” Shu replied nonchalantly, not missing a beat as he continued stapling. “What's up?”
Wilson's eyes narrowed into sharp slits, his mouth pressed into a thin line.
"This," he said, holding up the paper with such force that it trembled slightly, "is apparently the sign-up sheet for the Wilsoneer Club. And what do I find? Elira's name at the top, with the title ‘President’ next to it!”
“That is indeed my president.”
“And you're the—the secretary?”
Shu hummed, feigning innocence as he stepped back to admire their handiwork. They really outdid themselves with this new sign-up sheet, what with the bright, vivid colors that caught your attention, and the bold, blocky lettering that would impress a master street artist. He was quite proud of how good it looked, if he did say so himself.
“I never approved of this!”
“Then…”
Soulful purple eyes met star-struck blue.
“Can you?”
“What?”
Shu regarded Wilson almost critically, scrutinizing at widened eyes and parted lips. He took the paper from Wilson and read it over again as if seeing it for the first time. A defeated sigh left his lips.
"Look, the thing is, we need a club room. And to get one, we have to be an official club. And to be an official club, we need members. But we can't get members if we don't have a room to meet in,” he explained. “It's like the chicken or the egg situation, but with less clucking and more paperwork.”
Wilson folded his arms, casting a glance at the bulletin board. “And how many members do you need, exactly?”
“The school requires a minimum of five members to reserve a club room. But we're one short.”
The hallway seemed to hold its breath as Shu's words hung in the air.
"So, you need me," Wilson said flatly.
“Not you specifically, per se, just someone to be our hero and secure us a club room. It would be awfully convenient, though,” Shu sighed, carrying a hint of wistfulness in his tone.
“Shu, I can't join your—your—”
“Fan club?”
“Don't say that!”
“But that's what it is.”
“Whatever,” Wilson huffed. Twin spots of pink blossomed on his cheeks like fresh azaleas. “So, if your club gets five members, then you'll take down all of these sign-up sheets?”
“Yeah.” Shu nodded. “Immediately.”
Wilson pursed his lips. His eyes darted from the sign-up sheet and back to Shu's expectant face.
“You have four members already? Who would even…” he shook his head and grimaced. “Never mind. Don't tell me, I don't wanna know.”
“So…”
"Fine. But if we do this, it's going to be on my terms.”
“Really? You'll join the club?”
“Not as a member. Do you know how narcissistic it would be of me to do something like that? Come on, man.”
Wilson brandished a pen out of thin air and began to scribble on the paper on the bulletin board. The dusting of pink on his cheeks deepened when he noticed Shu staring at him.
“I'm not doing this for any of your sakes, by the way,” he said hastily. “The only reason I'm doing this is because it's genuinely embarrassing to have my name plastered all over the school without my consent. There.” He took a step back and glowered at Shu. “Well? Are you happy now?”
“I'm overjoyed, Wilson. Truly. You might even say giga happy."
Wilson groaned.
Shu couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he read the hastily scrawled addition to the sign-up sheet. Before Wilson could think to change his mind, Shu snatched the pen from his hand.
"Looks like we're all set, then. Mister… Advisor?” Shu raised an eyebrow. “You appointed yourself as the club advisor? Is that even allowed?”
“I told you, I'm not gonna be a member of this club. Besides, if you can really start something like this, then who says I can’t have a position like this?” Wilson countered. “Your dumb club is about me, anyway. For some reason.”
“I guess that counts,” Shu said thoughtfully. “You are technically a part of it.”
“I’m not participating in any club activities, though,” Wilson clarified, his voice firm. He was clearly drawing a line in the sand. “This advisor thing is just to make sure you don’t do anything stupid or embarrassing with my name on it. I won’t attend any meetings or wear anything ridiculous. In fact, this club doesn't even exist to me. Understood?”
The ghost of a victorious smirk danced in between Shu’s lips. Hook, line, and sinker.
“Crystal clear, Advisor Wilson. As secretary of the Wilsoneer Club, I promise you won’t have to lift a single finger.”
Wilson’s eyes narrowed again, but he didn’t say anything more. As his back receded down the hallway, Shu heard him mutter, “What the hell did I get myself into this time?” And he couldn’t help but laugh under his breath.
Yeah. Wilson was absolutely going to regret this, Shu thought idly. He wasn't sure if it was a shame or a good thing that Wilson loved his friends as much as he did.
“Maybe it's a mix of both,” Shu said as he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to their group chat.
GIGA SUPER WILSONEER CLUB
[ Giga Shu Yamino ] hey guys
[ Giga Shu Yamino ] guess who got us a club room c:
________________
(It was when he got around to taking down the last sign-up sheet that he discovered the Wilsoneer Club apparently already had five members. He had frowned at it initially, but didn't question it further. Five members were five members, and all was fair as long as no one was aware.)
________________
“So what you‘re saying is,” Elira started slowly, “you knew that Wilson was our club advisor this whole time, and you didn’t think to tell any of us?”
Shu blinked. Kaelix almost slapped his forehead.
“I thought you guys already knew," Shu said like it was obvious. "It's on the list.”
“Well, that's not our job!”
“Then what are you accusing me for?”
It was then the revelation hit Kaelix like a ton of bricks. The gears in his head began to twist and turn.
“Wait, hold on. Pause. Rewind. Play. You’re telling me Wilson signed up for our club willingly? The same guy who refuses to acknowledge us whenever we see him in the halls?” Kaelix frowned, brows furrowing. This didn't make sense. “Why didn’t he say anything?”
”Probably because you guys chant ‘giga super’ whenever you see him walking by,” Uki said dryly, leaning against the doorframe. “Now how did my name end up on that paper? I don’t remember signing up for this club, and I am absolutely not a part of this Wilsoneer business."
Elira looked at him with sympathy, almost pity in her gaze. “The first stage is horrification. I think you might be experiencing the second.”
“And what’s that?”
“Denial.”
“Fucking bitch.”
The expression on Uki's face was priceless—utter disbelief, a dash of horror, and a sprinkle of 'how could I be so unfortunate'. Kaelix had to cover his mouth to stifle the laugh that threatened to burst out, unlike Elira who just laughed to her heart's content.
"They say Wilsoneeritis has no known cure," Kaelix joked. The icy, threatening stare Uki shot at him made the hair on the back of his neck stand up on edge. Was it just him or was the air really cold all of a sudden...?
Shu cleared his throat. “Remember, guys, we have a very urgent matter at hand. We still don't know what we're doing for the cultural festival.”
Elira nodded, something hardening in her eyes. “Alright. We need to get to work. And fast. We've wasted enough time already.” She took the marker from the whiteboard and began pacing. “We need to come up with something that's quick, easy, and doesn’t require too much effort, and still shows school spirit. Does anyone have any ideas?”
“Personally,” Kaelix said, raising a hand. “I still second the idea of selling t-shirts. I think it'd be very profitable.”
“Okay, so the Super Giga Shirt is back on the table.”
“Or,” Shu said. “how about instead of shirts we sell food? What's Wilson's favorite?”
“It's curry, no? And, like, crepes?”
“Of course you'd know that, Kaelix."
“I don't like the way you said that. What are you insinuating right now?”
"I just mean there's a reason you're vice president." Elira said innocently, holding up her hands as if in defense. Kaelix's jaw dropped in disbelief. He felt so betrayed---no one had his back!
“Well, you are the one adopting his speech patterns…” Shu mused.
“What?!”
Yup. No one.
“Curry… stall…” Elira mumbled as she scribbled it down on the whiteboard. Her eyes lit up with a mischievous spark. “What if instead of his favorite foods, we sell his least favorite?”
Kaelix nearly choked. “That is so devious, wow. He is gonna hate us even more."
“It's the most Wilsoneer thing to do,” Elira said seriously. “to enjoy the things he doesn't.” She flashed a proud smile at Kaelix. “They don't call me the president for no reason.”
The members of the Wilsoneer Club exchanged glances, something in their expressions shifted—determination set in. Kaelix felt his heart flutter with excitement.
He had a feeling that no matter what they did, he would be happy to be there.
“How are you guys gonna do that?” Uki asked. “Do you even know what food he dislikes?”
Kaelix thought for a moment, but faltered when he noticed all of his upperclassmen staring at him. He chuckled nervously.
“W-what are you guys looking at me for?”
BANG!
The door burst open with a loud slam against the wall, causing everyone in the room to flinch. Kaelix's heart nearly jumped out of his chest, his pulse skyrocketing.
“Jesus, Christ!" Uki yelped. “You could've knocked.”
Finana Ryugu burst into the room, breathless and panting. “Guys!” she announced with a triumphant grin on her face, seemingly unaware or uncaring of the scare she caused. “Look—”
“Oh my god, you scared me so bad!”
“Oops,” Finana said. “Sorry, but look at what I have.” In her hands she carried a large box, looking at everyone with sparkling eyes.
“What's in the box?” Shu asked.
“Maid costumes!”
“Maid costumes?”
“What the hell, sure,” Kaelix mumbled as he watched Elira write down “maid cafe” on the whiteboard.
“No, no, no. You are absolutely not doing that.” A new voice cut through the air, sharp as a dagger. Everyone turned their heads to see a figure standing at the doorway, a hand on their hip.
“We're doing a play,” Yu Q. Wilson declared as he stepped into the room. Glancing around at the shocked faces, he seemed to get the wrong cue. “What? I already have one all written out.”
“You what!?”
“Take a look for yourself,” Wilson said casually. He pulled out a tall stack of papers from who knew where, and set them on the table where the members of the Wilsoneer Club gathered around. “I call it Terrasanji.”
“Ah, ‘terra’ as in land, and ‘sanji’ from our school,” Kaelix said with understanding as he flipped through the pages. “Wow, this is amazing, Wilson.”
“Aw, thanks, Kaelix, but I wouldn't go that far. It's just a script.”
“Yeah, for an entire play!”
“Wait.” Shu turned to Wilson and looked at him curiously. “I thought you wanted us to, like, move on and disband. Why are you helping us?”
“Yeah, you wrote a whole play for us?”
Wilson folded his arms and avoided their gaze, staring at the ground.
“Don't get too ahead of yourself now. I'm not doing this for you guys, and I don’t even wanna talk about this club. But…” Wilson's voice grew quieter. “You're still my friends. And I overheard some people talking about the school festival, and I figured you guys wouldn't have anything done.” He shot a meaningful glance towards the whiteboard, and scoffed, unimpressed. “And it looks like I was right.”
“Hey!”
A small smile broke out on Wilson's face. “If it's for my friends, of course I'd help. Do whatever I can, you know?”
A hush fell over the room as they processed Wilson's words. Their treasurer was the first to break the silence.
“Oh my god, tsundere ASMR for free?” she gushed. “It's my lucky day!”
Her shameless, unabashed excitement charged the atmosphere with something bubbly—fizzing with a catastrophe or crackling with a masterpiece. For everyone in the room started to laugh. From the corner of his eye, Kaelix saw even Wilson roll his eyes and smirk slightly.
But he must have noticed Kaelix's observations, for something unreadable flickered across his face and he fixed an icy glare at Finana.
“Shut up, Finana!” Wilson snapped, his cheeks a lovely shade of scarlet. “Don't say that! I finished the script a long while ago, okay? Besides, it's not like I can showcase it any other way. So don't get this twisted. I told you, I'm not doing this for you guys.”
Finana opened her mouth to retort, but Elira clapped her hands together, getting back to business. On the whiteboard was “Terrasanji,” capitalized and circled in red.
“My fellow Wilsoneers, listen up. I know the news of the upcoming school festival was a surprise to most of us, and our delay to address it is an unfortunate setback. But now that we have our club advisor here, and a script for a play no less, it’s time to lock the fuck in. Under my orders as the president of the Wilsoneer Club, I say we're going to make this happen!”
“Yes, Madam President!”