Game on...
But just as I was about to walk, Travis slid his hand low under the desk and passed something into my palm. A folded piece of paper. I didn't look down right away. I just stared at it, confused. What the hell? But I had no time to hesitate.
As I walked to the board, my heart pounded like it was trying to write the answer for me. Mr. Hanajima didn't even look at me, he was too busy going off.
"This is what happens when students depend on gadgets instead of focusing in class. You think everything can be solved with a quick message or a meme. You—"
I unfolded the paper. And stopped. On it was everything, clean handwriting, neat arrows, complete steps. The formula. The solution. The answer. I blinked. My lips curved upward into the tiniest smirk, I turned around to look at Travis and saw him smirking as well, pen on his cheek.
I didn't think that I would ever say this but 'Thank Kami for that man'.
I picked up the marker and, with the confidence of someone who hadn't cried over math homework a few weeks ago, I wrote the full solution down, ending with a crisp double underline under the final answer. I turned just as Hanajima turned back to the board.
"...you think this subject is a joke and—" He paused. Blinked at the board. Silence. Then: "...Correct."
I walked back to my seat without looking smug. Mostly. I slid into my chair, shot Travis a look. He gave me a lazy smirk, one brow raised like he was saying, You're welcome.
Minho, from a few seats away, looked between the board and Travis and then at me, brow twitching.
Hanajima sighed. "Whatever. You can use your phones in class—but only if you can solve the problems too. Let's move on."
As the lesson continued, I leaned toward Travis and whispered, "How the hell did you even know I'd need that?"
He shrugged. "You always need that."
I laughed quietly under my breath. The rest of the class passed in a blur of equations and sideways glances. Josh's texts were long forgotten.
...
After class and after a few subjects, we grabbed our bags and trickled out into the courtyard, blinking under the afternoon sun. The final bell had rung, but the air still buzzed with leftover energy from the school day.
"Yo," Ryan called, adjusting the strap of his duffel. "Who's up for bubble tea? I need something cold before practice."
"I second that," James said. "Mocha with extra pearls. I'm starving."
"I heard the stand near the gate has yakitori skewers today," Twan added, already leading the way.
"I thought you were watching your macros," Travis teased.
"I'm watching them go down my throat," Twan shot back.
The six of us ended up wandering off-campus toward the nearby strip of street food stalls and vending machines. It was the usual afternoon disruption, students everywhere, sizzling sounds from grills, the sugary scent of candied strawberries wafting through the air.
I bought myself a bottle of cold sakura lychee soda and stood in line with them as Twan argued with the yakitori guy over how spicy "spicy" really was. Minho stood beside me, hands in his pockets, squinting into the sunlight.
"You're quiet," I said to him as we waited.
"Just tired," he said, but his tone wasn't cold. If anything, it felt... softer than usual.
I looked at the side where Ryan and James ended up getting roped into a taste test at a nearby takoyaki cart, trying to guess the mystery filling for a free serving.
"It's squid. It has to be squid," James insisted after biting into one.
Ryan made a face. "Dude, that's definitely cheese."
They were both wrong, it was chocolate.
We laughed way too hard at their disgusted expressions. Travis, sipping on matcha, leaned over and murmured, "This is what happens when you let athletes think they can cook."
"I heard that," James called, mouth full.
After a while, the group seemed ready to keep going, tossing around the idea of checking out the new claw machine in the arcade nearby. But I glanced at the sky—the afternoon was tipping toward golden hour.
"I think I'll head back to the dorm," I said, brushing off my uniform skirt. "I need to study."
"Math trauma still fresh?" Travis asked knowingly while laughing.
"Very," I replied with an over-exaggerated sigh.
"You sure?" Ryan asked. "You'll miss Twan burning through his allowance trying to win a rubber duck."
"Then I guess I'll just buy the machine itself then," Twan defended.
I smiled. "You guys go ahead. Win the duck for me."
They groaned, but no one argued. And with that, I waved and turned the corner, the dorm just a few blocks away. The walk back felt slow and warm. Spring was trying its best to bloom all over Sendai. Cherry blossoms fluttered from nearby trees, landing in the grass like confetti.
When I entered the dorm, it was quiet. Blissfully so. I kicked off my shoes, stretched, and pulled out my math notes. This time, I wanted to actually understand what I'd just copied down. I was halfway up the stairs when the front door creaked open. Minho.
He stepped in, shutting it behind him, his hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows. Our eyes met. He looked... unreadable.
"Hey," I said.
Minho's eyes met mine like a storm about to break. "You think I wouldn't notice?"
"Notice what?" I replied.
"That wasn't your answer. It was Travis's." Minho replied.
I crossed my arms. "So what?"
"So," he took a step closer, voice low and sharp, "you acted like it was yours."
"It's not like I had time to sit and solve it!" I snapped. "It was either that or get humiliated."
"I'm not saying you shouldn't have used it. I'm saying you shouldn't pretend it was yours!"
"And I'm saying it's none of your business!" I shot back, stepping onto the stairs.
His voice followed. "You live with us. That makes it my business!"
I turned back. "What, so now you're my academic supervisor too!?"
"You're twisting it."
I scoffed and continued up, but I could hear his footsteps behind me. "Why do you even care?" I muttered without turning.
"Because you were texting Josh instead of paying attention!"
I froze. Slowly, I turned to face him, heart kicking up a notch. "Wait... how'd you know I was texting Josh?"
Minho didn't flinch. "Travis is your seatmate. And as much as that guy is lowkey, he's also nosy. He saw your screen."
My mouth opened, then closed.
"He told us," Minho added. "He thought we should know."
"We?" I asked.
"Me," he corrected quickly. "I mean, whatever."
My head spun. "So you're pissed because I got help from Travis... and because I was texting Josh?"
He exhaled, jaw tight. "I'm pissed because you weren't paying attention. Because if Travis hadn't slipped you that paper, you would've just stood there. And yeah—because it was him."
I blinked, hard. "You don't get to decide who I talk to, Minho." My hand gripped the stair rail. "You've been weird ever since the game." I added.
"And you've been acting like none of it mattered." He replied.
"You mean the Sagano girls? Oh, I noticed. I noticed how you entertained them."
"Yeah?" His voice dropped, soft and dangerous. "And I noticed how you hugged Josh."
"So? It was a hug." I turned around and started walking up the stairs again.
"Sure," he said flatly.
I spun around "Why does it fucking matter to you!?" At this point, I am so bothered! The afternoon was going perfectly fine, I wanted to de-stress and study MATH since I felt inspired to do so but no— THIS FUCKING GUY HAD OTHER PLANS!
Silence...
And then he said it, quiet, but sure. Like it had been waiting to come out for a long time.
"Because... I care for you. And it's not going away."
The world stilled. Or maybe I did. My breath caught in my throat. Something inside me cracked open. Minho stepped closer. I instinctively stepped back—and my spine hit the railing behind me.
He didn't touch me. Not yet. He just stood there, close enough for me to feel the tension in the space between us.
His voice was low, raw. "I've been trying not to. God knows I tried. But I can't pretend anymore."
My heart kicked against my ribs. "Minho..."
He looked at me, really looked at me—with a kind of softness I'd never seen before in his eyes. Not on the court, not in the dorm. Just... here. Just me.
"Elise..." he murmured.
He leaned down. I tilted my chin up.
And then he kissed me.