I got home just as night was settling in. The front door creaked as I pushed it open, and the moment I stepped into the hallway, I heard my mother's voice coming from the kitchen.
"Ryo? Where have you been? I tried calling you and you didn't answer any of my messages…"
She appeared in the living room with a worried expression. Her apron was stained with sauce, and her face carried the exhaustion of someone who had clearly rushed home just to see me.
"I was at school," I said, kicking off my sneakers near the door. "Extra classes."
"Extra classes?" she repeated, almost alarmed. "But why? You've never needed that before… did something happen?"
"They're just pushing harder now. It's because of the exams. School stuff, nothing big."
"But why didn't you tell me? I was really worried. I thought something might have happened…"
"I just… forgot. It was all last minute. I'm fine, really. It's nothing."
She crossed her arms, visibly uneasy, though trying to hold herself back. Her eyes, however, betrayed her concern.
"I made you something. Go take a shower and then come eat."
After my shower, I sat down at the table. She served my plate while sneaking glances at me, like she was trying to decipher a code. As always, she didn't ask anything else. She seemed used to not having all the answers.
"These extra classes… are they with some new teacher?" she asked, attempting small talk.
"Not exactly." I hesitated for a moment. "It's with the student council president."
Her eyes widened.
"The president? Another student?"
"Yeah. Long story. I don't even know why she agreed to it."
"Was she nice to you?"
Nice? If only she knew…
"Nice isn't the right word… but it was better than I expected."
A faint, timid smile crossed her face.
"If she's helping you, then maybe it's not such a bad thing."
"Yeah… maybe."
We finished our meal in silence. The kind of silence that doesn't weigh on you—it comforts.
Later, I went upstairs, but sleep didn't come. I stared at the ceiling, replaying those stupid mistakes I made. I grabbed my notebook, tried to redo the problems, wrote, erased, wrote again.
Ayumi's voice still echoed in my head. Direct. Precise. Eyes that missed nothing.
Why does she even care? She doesn't know me. Must be just to score points with the principal.
But at some point, I must've passed out mid-problem, face down on the notebook.
—
In the morning, the kitchen was quiet. Only breakfast left waiting for me and a note beside the bowl of rice:
"Son, I made you breakfast. I had to leave early but I'll be back before dinner. Take care, okay? Don't forget your jacket and umbrella—I saw on the news it might rain today. Love you. — Mom."
She tries too hard…
—
The wind at the school gates felt colder than usual. I walked in silence, but my mind was still on yesterday's lesson. It wasn't just about math. It was the way she looked at me… like she actually believed I could learn.
Something's wrong with that girl…
As soon as I passed through the gates, I noticed the stares. Nothing new. But today they were different—more direct, more probing.
Whispers. Crooked smiles. Heads turning. Something had shifted, and I didn't know what yet.
At break, Yuji showed up, juice box in hand, carrying the same irritating enthusiasm as always.
"Yo, Miura! You didn't tell me you were having extra classes with the student council president!"
"…What?"
"Everyone's talking about it. They say you and Ayumi Matsuo are having private lessons…"
"And how the hell does everyone already know about this?"
"Dunno! Apparently someone saw you two in the library yesterday and, well, the president tutoring the delinquent? That's big news."
I sighed. Of course it would turn into this. Keika was paradise for gossip.
The cafeteria was loud and crowded. But suddenly, the air seemed to shift. Even the clattering of trays seemed to quiet.
Ayumi Matsuo walked in.
Immediately, all eyes turned to her. Each step she took seemed to align the space around her, as if the whole school adjusted itself to her presence. At her side walked a shorter girl with glasses and a clinical gaze. Unlike Ayumi's cold elegance, this one scanned the room like she was dissecting it with her eyes.
And the moment she saw me, she pushed her glasses up with a sharp motion.
"The president and the vice-president of the council… they creep me out," Yuji muttered, shrinking into himself. "But why does it look like they're heading this way?"
Ayumi stopped at our table. She looked at me first, then at Yuji. I pretended not to notice.
"Miura. Today our lesson will be in the Student Council Room. I have other matters to attend to and can't waste time going to the library. Is that acceptable?"
I nodded, keeping my reaction flat despite the weight of everyone's eyes.
"As you wish, president."
She turned and walked away. The cafeteria slowly came back to life, but now every pair of eyes was locked on me.
"What the hell are you looking at, idiots?" I muttered.
Yuji chuckled nervously.
"You two are alike."
"…What's that supposed to mean?"
"You both give me chills."
I smacked the back of his head.
—
After classes, I walked down the hallway toward the Council Room. Silent steps, slow pace—until a voice called out.
"Ryosuke Miura."
I did what I always do when someone uses my full name: ignored it.
"Hey! I'm talking to you."
She blocked my path. The vice-president.
Sharp gaze. Glasses adjusted again with almost irritating precision.
"I thought you'd be here earlier. The president doesn't have time to waste on tardiness."
"I'm not late," I said flatly.
I tried to keep walking, but she stopped me again.
"What do you want, exactly?"
She crossed her arms.
"I want to make it clear that the president accepted this responsibility, but that doesn't mean she'll tolerate carelessness. She has a packed schedule and real priorities. She can't waste her time on someone who doesn't take things seriously."
"Relax. I never asked her to teach me." A smirk tugged at my lips. "Honestly, I'd rather it was anyone else in my place."
"Then we're in agreement."
Her eyes were sharp, calculated, weighing every word. And again, the gesture: adjusting her glasses before finishing.
"She agreed to help you. I'm here to make sure that doesn't turn into a mistake."
"Sounds like someone's professionally jealous."
Her eyes narrowed further.
"Watch your words, Miura. Curiosity about you might not last. But a bad reputation? That sticks forever. Don't ruin the chance she gave you."
Before I could reply, the door beside us opened.
"Hanabi," Ayumi said firmly. "We've discussed this. I don't need anyone filtering my decisions."
The vice-president—Hanabi—hesitated, caught off guard for just a second. She adjusted her glasses again, almost by reflex.
"Understood, president."
Ayumi looked at me.
"Come in. We've already wasted enough time out here."
I walked in, not without flashing a mocking half-smile at Hanabi.
Ayumi closed the door behind us.
The second lesson was about to begin.