Distant Signals: The Love Between Us

Chapter One

The first-year students could be heard laughing and socializing on the other side of the door as Arthit and the other hazers approached. Just two years ago, they'd been on the other side—naive and eager, wearing white button-downs and black ties and a name-tag strung around their necks. Arthit's heart thumped wildly against his chest and was so loud he thought sure that his friends could hear it. His eyes shifted nervously back and forth and he went over the plan in his head again. He knew what to do and say. He had to. He was the head hazer.

Knot grabbed his shoulder and squeezed it lightly before taking his spot in line. Behind him, Bright and Tutah failed to stifle their laughter at a joke Arthit hadn't heard, but it was time to go inside and he turned around, shooting his friends a look to quiet them. "Let's go," he said. And at his command, the hazing team pushed open the double doors and walked in. With each step, Arthit's confidence grew. The hazers' menacing presence quieted the first-years and by the time they reached the stage, the entire room was silent.

Arthit, with his hands behind his back, briefly looked out at the students sitting in front of him. He no longer felt nervous; on the contrary, he felt powerful and immediately embraced his role as head hazer, just as he had with the other hazers in private.

"Hello, first-year students," he began, "My name is Arthit. I'm a third year and your senior in this Faculty of Engineering. My responsibility is to look after you for the entire year and make sure that you become disciplined and strictly abide by the rules. I expect to receive full cooperation from all of you."

"I want to congratulate all of you for making it into Faculty of Engineering," Knot said.

"However, I will not acknowledge you as my juniors in this faculty until you earn this." Arthit pulled out a gear charm from his pocket and held it up for the first-years to see. "A gear consists of wheels working together systematically. If a wheel goes missing, a gear will not be able to work. That's why a gear represents the members of the Faculty of Engineering, it is our honor and our dignity, it doesn't just represent one particular person. And for all of you to earn this, you have to learn and go through the SOTUS system first."

Prem spoke next: "Moreover, you must attend every initiation activity. Make sure that you won't be late. Most importantly, you must respect your seniors."

"And lastly, you must strictly follow my rules and commands. Do you understand?"

"Yes," the juniors said in unison.

"Now, do you want to get to know your seniors?" This time the first-year's response was lackluster and Arthit, annoyed, repeated his question. This time, they responded louder, and he accepted it, continuing: "If that's so, I'll let you get to know us, your seniors, by collecting 1,000 signatures from us. I want you to collect all these signatures within one week."

This time, the juniors did not respond well. Concerned whispers grew across the entire room.

"Is there a problem?" Arthit asked, pausing briefly. "Oh, right. I must have forgotten to teach you manners. If you want to say something, you have to stand up and say your name and student number."

A hand shot up, followed by a young man standing to face them. His gaze, fixated on Arthit, was defiant and as he introduced himself, Arthit shifted on his feet and pressed his lips together in a thin line, annoyed that no sooner had he given his first order had a junior chosen to openly challenge him. What a pain in the ass.

"I think one week will not be enough to accomplish your task," the junior, Kongpob, said. This was reasonable and likely true—one week was truly not enough time to do what they were asking, especially when the first-years would be struggling to adapt to their new environment and difficult classes—but they needed to meet their seniors, the people that had gone through all of it before and could help them if they needed it, and they needed to push to do it.