ONE-SHOTS [Ejen Ali]

7 | The Game Master

Note: No, I haven't seen season 3... yet.

When their weekly family dinner finally rolls around, Alicia's going to throttle her father and throw the saltshaker in his head. She loves him, she really does – but sometimes he's cryptic and unreasonable in the missions he assigns her, claiming that there's a larger picture at stake and she'd understand in due time.

This is one of those times, and she's hoping he'd invested in another set of cutlery before things get out of hand. In both a literal and metaphorical sense.

She knew she always pestered him since she was a child so that he would finally give her a mission of her own. It was a rite of passage for all their agents in the academy, and even if she didn't need to attend it herself, she still deemed it necessary for her own advancement as an agent.

So when he finally, finally nodded his head to her stubbornness, she nearly leapt out of her dining seat in joy.

Then she found herself sulking by her school desk, glowering at the back of Ali's head as if he was the cause of all that's wrong in the world.

Her dad must be pulling her leg. What type of mission was "Keep an eye on Ali bin Ghazali in class"? The only thing worth seeing the boy do was when he tripped on air in PE class and ate a mouthful of dirt. And that didn't even happen as often as she'd like.

Alicia was convinced that her father merely hacked into her class list, used a randomizer to pull Ali's name out of the box just so he can keep her occupied. Looking at Ali now, who'd been announced to have failed their science tests for the fifth time in a row, her theory was holding more and more credibility by the moment.

She sunk back into her seat, lips pressed into a thin line in frustration.

What a massive waste of her time.

Viktor leaned towards Ali's desk, voice lowered to a whisper.

"Hey," he said, eyes darting to the prefect sitting at the very back of the class, "did you do something to offend anyone lately?"

Ali, who'd been doodling in his math notes, whipped to him as if his best friend had grown a second head. "No, why?" Baffled, he followed Viktor's gaze, expression slackening into realization, then scrunching into irritation. "Ah, Alicia. Her."

"I don't know what's her deal," he confessed, twirling the pencil in his fingers. He returned his attention towards the front, huffing at the long list of math formulas on the board that he hadn't bothered to write down. "We never even talked before. Aside from the one time she singled me out in dodgeball, that is. The bruise hurt for days."

Viktor winced sympathetically. "Are you sure?" he stressed, concerned for his friend's wellbeing. "Because I don't think she's the type to bully anyone for the heck of it."

"I don't know," Ali retorted, hissing. "I just wished she'd leave me alone!"

A loud slap jolted them both back to reality. They swiveled towards the front, where their teacher was glaring daggers at them.

"If you both insist on being a disturbance in my class, you'd find better time outside the corridor!"

"Sorry, Miss," they muttered, knowing better than to retaliate. The pair rose from their chairs, shuffling out the classroom to face their punishment.

Damn, even without Alicia herself, she somehow still managed to ruin it for Ali.

Alicia cornered her father the moment he stepped into the house.

"Papa," she said, arms crossed as she blocked their only entrance. "I want a better mission."

She worded it as if she were spoilt child demanding a new toy or electronic, but they both knew too well that what she was looking for was far from it.