Day five arrived, and Mia's body still vaguely protested the athletic torture of the previous morning. She was beginning to suspect Kris was designing these "demands" to target her specific weaknesses. The thought filled her with a familiar blend of fury and begrudging respect for his cunning. Her morning started not with a text, but with Kris appearing at her dorm room door, a stack of meticulously organized cue cards and a laser pointer in hand.
"Good morning, Assistant," he stated, his voice all business. "Today, you're helping me win the Inter-University Business Case Competition. My final presentation is next week, and I need a fresh, unbiased, and brutally honest set of eyes. Your task: be my mock judge. I'll pitch, you interrupt with tough questions, critique my delivery, timing, and even my visual aids. Don't hold back. Pretend you're a venture capitalist ready to tear me apart."
Mia eyed the cue cards with a mix of apprehension and grudging intrigue. This was different. It wasn't physical exertion or mind-numbing administration. This was intellectual combat. It was a challenge to her perception, her critical thinking, and strangely, her integrity. "So, you want me to tell you how insufferable you are?" she retorted, a smirk playing on her lips.
Kris's lips twitched, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Precisely. But intellectually insufferable. Focus, Princess. This is important."
For the next few hours, Mia found herself unexpectedly engrossed. Kris, stripped of his usual arrogance, was a formidable presence. He presented his case with precision, his arguments sharp, his vision clear. Mia, playing the role of the skeptical, demanding judge, surprised herself with the incisive questions she fired back, drawing on her innate ability to spot inconsistencies and her growing understanding of his business world. She called him out on vague projections, challenged his market analysis, and even pointed out a slight nervous habit he had with his pen. Kris, to her surprise, didn't react with anger, but with intense focus, absorbing every critique.
"Your conclusion lacks emotional resonance, Kris," she'd stated at one point, surprising even herself with the bluntness. "It's smart, but it doesn't sell the passion."
Kris paused, considering her words. "Emotional resonance?" he repeated, a flicker of something new in his gaze. "That's... an interesting point." He jotted it down. The unexpected dynamic between them, a shared intensity over a common goal, was strangely exhilarating.