(Aika’s POV)

  Kazama is suffering.

  And I probably shouldn’t find it funny… but it’s hard not to when he keeps looking at the board like it personally insulted his family.

  He’s trying. I’ll give him that. But when Mr. Hanada called on him earlier and he panicked like someone just asked him to defuse a bomb, I nearly lost it.

  He guessed “seven.”

  It wasn’t even a multiple-choice question.

  I slide my notebook a little closer to him under the desk. He’s pretending to take notes now, but he’s just sketching something.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  I lean over—trying not to look too interested—and realize he’s drawing… soup?

  Really?

  He notices me looking and raises an eyebrow.

  I grab my pen and write beside it:

  “Soup of the day: failure.”

  He snorts, then scribbles:

  “Extra spicy.”

  I have to cover my mouth to stop from laughing.

  I don’t get it.

  He’s not smart. He’s not especially cool. He’s a little loud and a lot clueless.

  But for some reason…

  He’s weirdly… honest?

  Other people try to hide when they mess up. Kazama just flops right into the failure pile and shrugs like it’s Tuesday.

  He doesn’t try to impress anyone.

  He’s just… himself.

  And I kind of like that.

  Midway through the lesson, I notice him staring blankly at the next problem.

  Without a word, I tap my pencil beside the first step on his paper and nod toward it.

  He hesitates.

  Then nods back.

  And follows along.

  Like I said—he’s trying.

  At the end of class, he sighs dramatically and slumps over his desk.

  I flick his forehead lightly.

  “Try again next class,” I say.

  “Math has declared war on me,” he groans.

  I grin. “Then I guess I’m your secret weapon.”

  He pauses.

  Then smiles back.

  “Cheesy,” he says.

  “You like it.”

  “I do.”

  To be continued…