"If I remember correctly, we just covered equations and inequalities not too long ago, right…?" Natsukawa Kanade asked, brow slightly furrowed as he glanced at Kato Megumi with a complicated expression.
Although they weren't in the same class, the school curriculum was standardized across year groups. Their lessons should have progressed at roughly the same pace. More importantly, the question she had brought up wasn't even all that difficult—it was just a straightforward combo of equations and inequalities. Failing to solve it could only mean one thing.
Kato-san… you totally spaced out in class, didn't you?
Megumi looked a little sheepish. Her eyes dropped to the workbook in front of her, and she tilted her head ever so slightly. Her voice came out in a whisper, soft enough to be mistaken for a breeze.
"Umm… I didn't really get some parts during class… so when I tried reviewing at home, I got a bit lost…"
Then she tilted her head the other way and glanced up at him with an almost apologetic pout. "So… I kinda just decided to 'not seek complete understanding'?"
"..."
Oi, Kato-san, are you seriously trying to act cute right now?!
And wasn't she misusing that phrase anyway?! "Not seeking complete understanding" wasn't about being lazy—it meant focusing on the core ideas instead of obsessing over every detail. But this wasn't that! She was clearly just confused!
Now that Kanade thought about it, Kato's grades had always been middling. Not amazing, but not terrible either. She was the kind of student who could easily blend into the background—neither excelling enough to stand out, nor failing enough to attract attention. Honestly, it was the most forgettable kind of academic existence.
But it wasn't just her grades. It was everything else.
She didn't really have close friends. She never joined study groups. She rarely asked questions in class. That, combined with her naturally calm, almost indifferent personality, meant most things—including knowledge—just drifted over her like clouds across a clear sky.
And so, "not seeking complete understanding" became her default mode.
Yet here she was, sitting in their makeshift study group.
That fact alone told Kanade one important thing—Kato Megumi wasn't completely indifferent. She did care. Maybe not in a loud or passionate way like Eriri, but enough to reach out, quietly.
The real problem was probably that she had no good channels. No one to ask, no one to rely on.
"Then why didn't you ask the teacher when you didn't understand?" Kanade asked, genuinely curious.
"Umm…" Kato hesitated, twirling a strand of hair around her finger over and over again. "I was worried it'd make me look bad… The questions other students ask always sound so impressive… I didn't want to stand out for asking something dumb."
"..."
Kanade had no words. So that's what it was again—face.
This was a classic example of letting pride get in the way of progress. And in a subject like math, where every concept builds on the last, a weak foundation meant future lessons would be even more nightmarish.
But still… he couldn't really blame her. If he were in her shoes—quiet, average, unremarkable—he might've done the same.
Still, he couldn't just leave her to drown in numbers.
As one of the rare people he considered a beneficial friend, Natsukawa Kanade couldn't let her suffer in silence. Not when he could help.
"Alright, let's put those practice questions aside for now," he said, voice turning serious. "I'll walk you through the basics first."
There was no mockery or judgment in his tone—just quiet resolve. He wasn't going to give up on her, even if she had.
To make things easier, he scooted over to her side of the table. Megumi, seeing his intention, quietly shifted her materials and made space for him.
They began reviewing from the ground up—equations, logic patterns, basic inequality signs. Step by step, Kanade explained everything with clear, precise language, using simple examples to avoid overwhelming her.
Little by little, the space between them shrank.
They hadn't noticed at first—too focused on variables and formulae—but as the tension eased and the pace relaxed, the realization hit Kanade like a lightning bolt.
Their faces were way too close.
He had been about to give her a quick summary when he glanced up—and stopped. Her calm almond eyes were right there. He could see the delicate bridge of her nose. Her lips, soft and lightly tinted like sakura petals, were only a fist-length away. And was that… milk? She smelled faintly like milk.
She must've had some this morning… Kanade thought, brain short-circuiting.
Megumi, sensing his stare, blinked and turned toward him.
For a brief second, their eyes met.
Badump.
Kanade felt his heart skip an actual beat. He immediately leaned back, almost falling off the seat. "A-Ahem… N-nothing! You just… keep going! I'll, uh, be right back. Bathroom. Yes."
Kato blinked slowly and nodded without a word, then turned back to her notebook like nothing had happened.
Kanade stood up, brushing imaginary dust from his pants, trying to compose himself. As he headed out of the room, he paused beside Eriri, who had been diligently wrestling with her English worksheet the whole time.
"Oi, Eriri, I need to go to the bathroom."
"Then go? Why're you announcing it?" she muttered, eyes still glued to the textbook. "What am I, your mother?"
"..." Kanade twitched. A vein popped on his forehead. "I was asking—where's the bathroom?"
Of course, his memory wasn't that bad—Natsukawa Kanade wasn't some goldfish-brained protagonist who forgot details like a weekly shounen side character. He was playing along with Eriri's suggestion to pretend he hadn't been to her house multiple times before. But now? Now she was the one blowing her own cover.
Can you please be more reliable, Eriri!?
"Ah?" The little blonde lifted her head with a dazed expression, blinking rapidly as if her brain had just booted up. "Wait... you forgot? But it hasn't been that long since you last came…"
Then her gaze slid across the table to where Megumi Kato sat, diligently scribbling away at her math exercises like a model student. Instantly, Eriri's face shifted, panic mode activating.
"Oh—right, right! This is your first time at my house, tehe~," she blurted with a forced laugh, trying to salvage the situation with an awkward smile.
Kanade gave her the blankest stare he could manage.
Really now.
Still, Kato didn't seem fazed by the slip-up. She didn't even look up, as if she hadn't noticed or simply didn't care. That alone let Eriri exhale in relief like she'd just dodged a final boss-level confession scene.
"The second room on the right down the corridor," Eriri added quickly, eyes still flicking toward Kato just in case.
"Got it. Arigatou," Kanade said flatly. At this point, he deserved an award for holding it together. He was trying, truly, but if any more misunderstandings piled up, even he might crack.
Eriri buried her face back into her workbook, clearly trying to make up for her earlier blunder by pretending to study harder than ever.
A few minutes later, Kanade returned—this time with two cups of freshly brewed tea in his hands.
"Time for a quick break," he said casually, setting the cups down in front of the two girls. "I passed through the kitchen, so I brewed some tea. That okay with you?"
The question was aimed mostly at Eriri, but the little blonde had already slumped over like she'd just survived a three-hour exam. She nodded with the energy of a salaryman hearing "overtime" on a Friday night.
"Mmm, mmm… thanks for the hard work, Kanade~," she murmured as she hugged the teacup like it was her savior. "Seriously needed this…"
Learning English was a battlefield. And Eriri was clearly on the losing side.
Despite her dramatic attitude, Eriri was still a ojou-sama—a proper lady of refined upbringing—so she didn't immediately chug the tea like a sports drink. Instead, she held the cup delicately with both hands and took a gentle sip, pinky almost raised.
"Haaa… I feel alive again…"
She even made a weird sound like some exhausted salaryman unwinding with beer after a long shift.
"Oi, what are you? A social animal hitting the izakaya after work?" Kanade chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "You've been studying for like… twenty minutes."
"Nani? Twenty minutes of non-stop effort! I've been locked in mortal combat with this textbook!" Eriri shot back, clearly offended.
Kanade let out a sigh and reached over to grab her workbook, flipping through it with the solemn air of a teacher checking test papers.
For Eriri—whose English proficiency was arguably worse than that of a middle school student—he had set the simplest of tasks: memorize basic junior high vocabulary, note any unfamiliar words, then group them for copy and dictation. On top of that, she was expected to review the vocabulary and grammar from this semester's units. He had purposefully kept it light… for now. After all, learning was a long-term grind, not a one-shot victory.
"Even though I already braced myself mentally… seeing that you still can't tell apart phrases like these is a bit painful," Kanade muttered as he circled a section with a pencil. "Alright, for today, just tackle this portion first."
Eriri leaned forward until her nose was nearly touching the table, trying to squint at the page.
Normally, she wore glasses when drawing, but she preferred contact lenses when outside. Today, because Megumi was here, she had deliberately gone without either. After all, her black-rimmed glasses weren't exactly kawaii, and Eriri was—above all else—vain.
Now she regretted it. Without them, she had to squint like a grandpa reading the morning paper, and it took real effort to see the section Kanade had marked.
When she finally made it out, she let out a tragic wail: "Ehhhhh!? This much? No way, I'll never survive it!"
Kanade raised an eyebrow. "You call this a lot? Honestly, I thought I was being too lenient."
He tapped the page lightly. "I divided the content into the smallest groupings possible. Today is the weekend, so it's a bit heavier, but starting Monday, it'll be scaled down. You'll have lighter loads during weekdays."
And just in case she tried to play the "forgetful artist" card again, he had also scheduled review segments to reinforce retention. After all, what good was learning if you immediately forgot it the next day?
Eriri's face contorted in horror. "You mean this torture… continues after today?!"
"Of course," Kanade said matter-of-factly, like he was stating that the sky was blue. "This will be the daily plan. Tomorrow, the day after, and every day until the midterms."
"And don't even think about slacking off or escaping," Kanade warned, narrowing his eyes with all the seriousness of a final boss issuing a last threat. "I'll be checking on your progress every single day. If I catch you slacking…"
He leaned forward slightly, the shadow falling across his face just dramatic enough to make Eriri gulp.
"You understand, right?"
Eriri: "…"
She didn't understand anything!
But her intuition, sharpened by years of being a high-spec tsundere, was sounding all kinds of alarms. Whatever this mysterious punishment was, it probably made the earlier "sticker-of-shame" look like a picnic. It could be psychological, it could be emotional, or worse—it could be embarrassing.
"I—I got it…" she mumbled, slumping forward with the defeated energy of a heroine realizing the training arc had only just begun.
Originally, her real plan was to breeze through the study session, act like she'd done a great job, and use that as an excuse to rope Kanade into going out with her—y'know, a "reward date" kind of thing. But now? Now it looked like she'd need all her energy just to survive the learning part, never mind flirting afterward.
The dream of a casual weekend outing vanished like a puff of smoke, and with a mournful sigh, Eriri picked up her workbook again and began scribbling like a disgruntled honor student.
Seeing her dive back into studying with that sulky-but-serious energy, Kanade eased back in his seat. No need to hover anymore. Instead, his thoughts wandered—toward the other girl sitting quietly nearby.
Megumi Kato had been silently working this entire time, calm and composed like always. At first, Kanade hadn't planned on helping her with her studies. She hadn't even asked. But today, he noticed something that shifted his perspective. Her performance—especially in math—seemed… off.
If this kept up, she might really take a nosedive in her scores.
Kanade sighed inwardly. Yare yare daze…
As he began mentally outlining a study plan for her, a gentle poke suddenly tapped the back of his hand.
"Kanade-kun," Megumi said softly, her tone as airy as a falling sakura petal, "I'm done."
The afternoon sunlight filtered through the window and landed on her hand. Her fingers were slender, delicate—skin pale like snow, smooth and almost translucent. Kanade could even see the faint veins beneath the surface. If someone told him she was a hand model, he'd believe it.
He blinked, momentarily stunned by the detail.
This must be what they mean by "fingers like cut scallions"… he mused blankly before snapping himself out of it.
Shaking off the daze, he took the workbook Megumi had slid toward him and began reviewing her work.
To his pleasant surprise, most of it was spot on. Even the problems she'd struggled with previously—though she had fumbled the final answers—her thought process was crystal clear. She just needed to double-check her calculations, and she'd be golden.
Kanade gave a small nod of approval.
"You did really well."
Megumi didn't say anything at first. Instead, she absently twirled the end of her hair around her finger.
"I didn't do much," she said softly, brushing off the praise like it didn't belong to her.
But Kanade didn't agree at all.
Just like one of those moe game guides—yes, he had skimmed one out of curiosity once—he knew that girls, especially diligent ones like Megumi, operated with something like an invisible "mood meter." Keep it too low, and progress stalls. Raise it with little things—encouragement, snacks, praise—and you'd get results.
That was part of the reason he made tea earlier. Not just for hydration, but to keep morale up.
Still… food alone wasn't enough. According to the guide, other "rewards" could help too: kind words, gentle head pats, maybe even… chin scratching?
Wait—chin scratching?! What is she, a kitten?
Kanade sweatdropped at the memory.
"Head pats," sure, those were socially acceptable… probably. But chin scratches felt like something you reserved for pets. Did people actually like that?
If it had been Eriri, he might've teased her with a playful "good girl" pat. But with Megumi… she was always so calm, so collected. If she reacted negatively, he might just collapse on the spot from second-hand embarrassment.
As he mulled over the awkwardness of the situation, Megumi tilted her head and blinked.
"Something wrong, Kanade-kun?"
Her voice, soft and sincere, pulled him back to reality.
"N-No, nothing at all…" he said, shaking his head quickly. He was this close to dropping the idea completely, but then—he met her gaze. It wasn't intense or forceful, just… gentle. Honest.
She really had tried her best.
Screw it.
Kanade steeled himself, forcing his face into an expression of calm confidence. With as much composure as he could muster, he slowly reached out…
And lightly patted her head.
"Yoshi yoshi," he said quietly. "Good job today."
Megumi froze for a split second.
Then she looked up at him, her eyes wide, blinking slowly as though processing what had just happened.
"…"
Kanade stiffened.
Gyaaaah, this is so awkward! Someone please just erase my existence right now!
But before he could spiral any further, Megumi gave the faintest smile and lowered her gaze, cheeks just barely tinged with pink.