TWO MEMBERS

“Congrats! If being an uncivilized idiot was an art, you would be a master artist. Seriously, what were you thinking! Hohohohohoho!” Mirai laughed.

I gritted my teeth. It had been two days since my conversation with Mr. Watson about starting my cooking club, which meant I only had five days left to pull everything together. And as if that pressure wasn’t enough, I’d been the target of relentless mocks and insults from this little shortie the whole time. She had been dishing out sarcasm like it was her personal hobby.

Finally, I’d had enough. I reached over and grabbed her cheeks with both hands. Her skin was soft under my fingers, but I didn’t let that stop me. I tugged her cheeks outward, stretching them in opposite directions, like some rubber band. Her mouth squished into a ridiculous shape, and her eyes widened in surprise. She tried to mumble something, but her words came out as muffled nonsense. It was strangely satisfying watching her smug expression melt away, even if only for a moment.

She slapped my hands away and turned her head. "Barbaric idiot" she mumbled.

Was she… crying? I couldn’t quite see her face, and a pang of regret hit me. Maybe I’d gone a bit too far. “Hey, I’m sorry,” I said, tapping her shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of her face. But she buried it in her arms, practically slamming herself into her desk.

That was… weird. Yep, she was definitely mad.

After a few moments, she muttered, “Why don’t you ask the ghost princess?”

“Ghost princess?”

“Meiroko.”

“And I’m guessing you came up with that name?”

“Do you even need to ask? She looks like she walked straight out of one of those 4D comics.”

Ghosts, demons, fairies, giants—humanity had come so far, yet we still loved to gossip about these strange, mythical things. They weren’t real, scientifically speaking, but maybe all those fictional stories made people want to believe, to see them in the real world.

The thought of asking her to join my club was tempting, but I doubted she'd be the enthusiastic type. Even if she joined, I couldn’t imagine her investing much energy in cooking or any club activities. Still, I didn’t have much choice. I desperately needed two more members to form the cooking club.

After school, I caught up with her. “Meiroko. You need to join a club, right?”

Meiroko : “…”

“And I assume you haven’t picked one yet?”

Meiroko : “…”

“So… would you like to join the cooking club?”

She gave me the slowest, strangest head shake in a circular motion.

“Um… is that a yes or a no?”

She sighed. “Just... get… this… over... with.”

I quickly turned on the hologram for my club’s membership form. Meiroko brushed her messy hair aside, revealing deep scarlet eyes that glowed as they scanned into the screen, accepting the terms and conditions.

I was a little stunned. I didn’t expect her eyes to be that pretty.

“Well, that’ll do! Welcome to the cooking club,” I said, a little more upbeat.

She muttered something in response.

“Sorry, what was that?” I asked.

“Piss… off… all… done,” she replied, barely louder than a whisper.

Close enough. At least I had one member now, which was a huge relief. I figured finding just one more would be a piece of cake. But after three days I realized how wrong I was.

Hunting down that last member turned out to be like trying to catch a photon in a black hole. Nearly, everyone at school had already chosen their clubs, and those who hadn’t seemed completely uninterested in something as “primitive” as cooking. I tried everything to entice them—offering 500 Quantum Crypto, high-quality 1600K gaming glasses, and other perks. But sadly, none of it worked.

As I shuffled down the school corridor, staring at the floor with my shoulders dropped, something caught my eye and jolted my hope meter from zero to a solid hundred. There, standing by a window, was a short kid with a messy orange bob. I hadn’t seen him around before, which meant he was probably new. His lips were chapped from all the nervous biting, and he was looking around like he’d landed on another planet.

I felt a devilish grin creep up my face. Time to play my strongest card: my intimidating, bone-chilling “scary face.” Hehehe.

“Hey there, buddy. You new here?” I walked up and placed a firm hand on his shoulder, narrowing my eyes just enough to ooze a mocking confidence. The corners of my mouth lifted, but not in a friendly way—more like a half-smile designed to make him feel like a speck of dust under my gaze.

“Oh… uh…” he stammered, taking a shaky breath. “I’m Vir. Kinda new here.”

“Nice to meet you, Vir. I’m Garp,” I said, slapping him on the back a little harder than necessary. He wobbled, trying to stay on his feet, but I pressed on, not giving him a moment to recover. “So, why are you creeping around the halls like a sneaky thief?”

He flinched, clearly thrown by my sudden shift in tone. I knew that look—it was the one people always gave me when they thought I was trouble. Ever since I was a kid, my “scary face” had a way of keeping people at arm’s length. Friends were a rare commodity for me, but right now, I was counting on his fear to play right into my hands.

“I… I was looking for the science club,” he managed, clearly wishing he were anywhere else.

“Science club, huh? Why that one?” I asked, feigning casual interest.

“Well, I like studying and researching new things,” he said, his eyes lighting up as he spoke. For a moment, the fear vanished, replaced by pure excitement. Science wasn’t just a hobby for him; it was something he loved.

“Oh, so you want to join the science club?” I asked, this time throwing in my best fake-friendly smile.

“Yes!” His face brightened, and he actually seemed to forget all about being scared.

“Awesome! Guess what? I’m in the science club too. Actually, I’m the vice president.”

“Really? That’s amazing!” His face practically glowed, and I saw the fear dissolve into pure admiration.

For a second, I felt a pang of guilt for what I was about to do. Vir was as innocent as they come, and here I was, shamelessly tricking him. But there was no turning back now. I needed that last member.

“So, Vir,” I said, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin, “you ready to join the science club?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” He nodded eagerly, his enthusiasm bouncing around like a kid in a candy store.

“It’s pretty exclusive, you know. We don’t just let anyone join.” I said, keeping my tone casual.

“Oh, I get it,” he replied, wide-eyed. “But I’m ready to prove myself!”

“Good, good,” I said, trying not to let my grin slip. “Actually, we have a little tradition for new members. It’s kind of… like a pre-test. We call it ‘The Experiment’.”

I displayed him the hologram for the cooking club membership form. “You see, I am also the founder of the cooking club.”

“The cooking club? Isn’t that kinda primitive?” He raised his eyebrow.

“No! No! No! We use cooking to test scientific applications in, biochemical reactions, thermodynamics, and molecular manipulation.” I rattled off a few fancy-sounding terms, keeping my face completely serious.

I continued, “The cooking club actually acts as the science club’s first test. You just have to register for the cooking club, complete one, uh… edible experiment, and if you pass, the science club accepts you on the spot.”

“Oh…” he looked confused, but he nodded. “Like a… practical application?”

“Exactly! Think of it as fieldwork in biochemical compounds.” I managed to say this with a straight face. “You know, we examine complex organic reactions under controlled heat environments, observe emulsification, molecular restructuring… You’re a smart guy, you’ll get it.”

Vir’s eyes lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds awesome! So, I just have to join the cooking club first?”

I nodded and he scanned his eyes on the hologram. “Congratulations. You are now a member of the cooking club.” I smiled.

“Then when can I take this test and finally join the science club?” He asked with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Uh… tomorrow?” I replied, my voice uncertain. I couldn't exactly tell him the truth—that the cooking club didn’t officially exist yet. And without an official status, we didn’t even have a club room.

“I’ve got some important stuff to handle, so see you tomorrow, Vir.” He nodded, and I headed off to the staff room. Now was the time to secure the final piece of the puzzle to make the cooking club a reality. I needed a club advisor, and I knew exactly who I wanted for the role.

CHAPTER 4 END