Chương 10: Chapter 10
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The apartment door opened with a soft click, allowing Megumi to step inside. The place was dim, illuminated only by the fading afternoon sunlight streaming through a half-open kitchen window.
He barely took in his surroundings as he walked further in, tossing his backpack beside the couch without looking, and headed straight for his bedroom.
It was around four in the afternoon, but his day's obligations were already behind him: school was done, the Nakanos had taken their test, and he had reported the results to Maruo.
Now, he had the next 16 hours of nothing until school resumed. And it was only Monday.
His bedroom door was slightly ajar. He gave it a gentle push, stepped inside, and collapsed onto his bed without a second thought. The cheap, hard mattress—standard issue for anyone renting in this old building—offered little comfort.
Still, he hoped for sleep, though he wasn't optimistic. A man can dream.
Closing his eyes, Megumi tried to relax, to melt into the mattress and forget about the day for just a while. But it wasn't working.
He shifted onto his side, trying to find a more comfortable position. Nothing. His nostrils started to itch.
With a frown, he flipped his pillow over, hoping for a cooler, softer side. Still nothing.
Then, out of nowhere, he sneezed.
His eyes snapped open, and he stared at the wall in front of him, annoyed. He scratched his nose lightly, but the itch persisted, growing more irritating by the second.
"Why now?" he muttered, sitting up and rubbing his nose, trying to will away the sensation. It didn't help.
Where had this sudden irritation come from?
Megumi dragged himself out of bed and went to the bathroom, hoping a quick blow of his nose would resolve the issue.
It didn't.
As soon as he returned to his room, the itch came back, and he sneezed again.
"What is this?" he muttered under his breath, his frustration growing.
His gaze scanned the room, searching for anything that could be causing his discomfort. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Then, he paused. A slow realization settled over him: dust.
The room was covered in dust. That's why he couldn't stop sneezing.
It really shouldn't have taken him this long to figure it out. He hadn't cleaned his room—or his apartment, for that matter—in quite some time. Actually, since moving in, he'd only cleaned once. Two months ago.
A tired expression settled on his face as he processed the truth.
Well, at least now he had something to do.
...
Megumi had really forgotten just how tedious cleaning could be.
Sure, he'd done his fair share before, but the feeling never changed. It was a chore, plain and simple—far from enjoyable.
He decided to start in the living room, using an old cloth he found in the bathroom, dampened with water and some cleaning products, just to get rid of the dust. But what he really needed was a vacuum.
Cleaning the hallway leading to his room was a breeze since the space was not very big.
Actually, "not very big" was a good way to describe his whole apartment. But today, that was a blessing—it meant less to clean.
Finally, his bedroom. Megumi paused at the doorway, surveying the room. He'd start with the corner table, then the drawers, move on to the wardrobe, tackle the walls, and finish with the floor.
And, as much as he had all the time in the world, the cleaning products on the cloth were already starting to irritate his eyes. So, the sooner he finished, the better.
He started with the corner table, unsurprised by how bare and dull it was. No clutter, no stray papers—just an empty, lifeless surface. Somehow, the emptiness bothered him more than a mess would have. He wiped it down half-heartedly, the cloth dragging over the wood, leaving it a bit cleaner but no less dreary.
Next was the wardrobe. Predictably, it was filled with clothes—nothing unusual there.
Megumi didn't own much, and what little he had was neatly organized. Even though he had been neglecting things lately, he still couldn't stand clutter.
He emptied the wardrobe, carefully placing the clothes on his bed. Most of them were slightly too big, a reminder that they weren't originally his. With the wardrobe emptied, he smoothed out the cloth inside, giving it a quick clean.
In a few minutes, everything was back in place, and the wardrobe was as clean as it could be.
Then came the walls. Megumi's expression darkened slightly. This part of cleaning was always the worst for him.
Even though the apartment was small, scrubbing the walls was still a tedious chore. But he needed to finish, so with a deep breath, he set to work.
His fingers were starting to wrinkle from the damp cloth, but he ignored it and kept going.
Finally, he reached the floor.
This was probably where all the dust had come from—the dust that had been irritating his nose all afternoon. He was extra careful cleaning the floor, not wanting to stir up any more of it.
He mopped slowly and methodically. The occasional patches of dirt disappeared easily thanks to the strong cleaning products, and soon enough, the dust was gone too. That was a relief.
As he ran the cloth over the floor near his bed, he paused, staring at the foot of the bed for a moment.
His eyes wandered up to the mattress, then back down to the floor. After a brief hesitation, he decided it might be a good idea to check underneath the bed, just in case.
Kneeling down, Megumi carefully pushed the bed aside, revealing the space underneath.
Something immediately caught his eye.
It was a wooden box, covered in dust.
His eyebrows raised in surprise. He didn't remember ever putting it there.
What was inside? He couldn't recall that either.
Without thinking much, Megumi leaned closer to the box, brushing away a thin layer of dust that had settled on top. He pulled the box close to him, almost resting it in his lap, and noticed it felt a bit heavy.
He stared at it for a few moments, then made up his mind to open it. His hands moved to the lid, slowly lifting it as he narrowed his eyes at the contents. He paused mid-action, recognition washing over him.
Three specific objects inside made him feel slightly uneasy.
The first—and most prominent—was his ancient cursed tool: a double-edged sword with a ring-shaped pommel and a black handle. The bottom of the blade, just as he remembered, was wrapped in bandages.
This was the sword he had taken up after losing his original weapon to the Finger Bearer.
Hesitantly, he brought his hand closer, tentatively running a finger along the blade until he reached the handle. With a careful grip, he pulled the sword out of the box, bringing it closer to him.
Megumi inspected the weapon, feeling its familiar weight in his hands. He wasn't quite sure how to process the mix of emotions swirling within him.
He ran his thumb along the bandaged grip, feeling the rough texture beneath his fingertips. Memories he wanted to forget began to resurface.
You spilled blood with that sword.
Megumi's expression darkened at the thought, and he carefully placed the sword on the ground beside him, setting it aside for now.
Taking a deep breath, he turned his attention back to the box to see the second of the three items inside.
Just as he had suspected earlier, it was a neatly folded uniform—his jujutsu uniform.
His lips pressed into a thin line as he looked at it, shaking his head to push away the thoughts threatening to invade his mind.
His gaze shifted to the side of the uniform, where he found the third item.
This one took him by surprise.
His breath hitched in his throat as he realized what it was. He had seen it at a glance, of course, but hadn't assumed it was truly that.
A fiddlestick.
A fiddlestick that belonged to a violin.
A violin that belonged to Tsumiki.
His lips parted slightly as he stared at the wooden piece of music. He couldn't help but feel a tightening in his throat with each passing second, the weight of his emotions growing heavier.
Where was the violin itself? Megumi didn't know, but he was certain it wasn't with him. Maybe it lay broken in a corner or had been discarded and forgotten in the trash. He was sure of one thing: it wasn't here.
So why was the fiddlestick here? He couldn't understand, and he didn't want to.
Yet, the more he gazed at it, the more melancholy he felt.
It had been used by his beloved sister to compose beautiful songs, but now it lay abandoned in a dusty wooden box, surrounded by a uniform and a weapon—both stained with blood countless times.
Why was this here? Why had he placed something so meaningful next to these two items he didn't even want to look at?
Oh, of course. He didn't want to look at the fiddlestick either. That was obvious.
Megumi frowned slightly at that realization. Naturally, he didn't want to think about the fiddlestick; it reminded him of Tsumiki, and memories of her always left him feeling heavier than usual.
After all, recalling Tsumiki meant confronting what he had done to her.
Clenching his teeth, he impulsively reached for the lid, placing it back on the box and pulling it away from him. He didn't want to look at it any longer—at all.
Megumi's gaze lingered on the box for a few moments before he forced himself to take a deep breath and look away, directing his attention to the weapon beside him.
The sword remained where he had left it, just outside the box. He studied it for a moment, contemplating his next move.
Should he put the sword back in the box? Honestly, Megumi wasn't sure.
He reached for the handle again, calmly raising the sword in front of him.
It had been months since he last wielded a weapon, but he figured he still remembered how to use it. A sorcerer's muscle memory is an incredibly persistent thing, after all.
His grip on the handle tightened slightly as he examined the blade, running his fingers along its length until he reached the tip. Now that he thought about it, was it wise to leave a literal weapon under his bed?
He didn't have a license to carry weapons, and if the building manager ever decided to inspect his apartment and found it... well, that wouldn't end well.
But where else could he put it?
After a moment of thought, he arrived at the most obvious solution for him.
In his shadow.
Of course, where else could it go? It was the perfect place, just as it had been when he still used the sword regularly.
Granted, he would technically be carrying a weapon now, but no one would know. Besides, he might actually need it—who knew what could happen?
His job was to protect the Nakano, and although no threats had surfaced yet, they could appear at any time. Megumi could hold his own with his fists, sure, but he had never been a strong melee fighter. Having his sword with him would be beneficial.
So it was settled. Without overthinking, Megumi reached back into his shadow, sliding the sword inside as he had done countless times before.
As soon as he finished, he felt a slight weight settle on his body. It was almost imperceptible, changing nothing, yet it was still an added burden.
After all, every object he stored in his shadow came with a weight he had to bear. That was what kept him from stashing countless items there; it would decrease his mobility.
But a single weapon didn't change much.
Megumi straightened up slightly, his gaze drifting back to the box before settling on the cloth beside him.
He frowned at that. He still had to clean the rest of the floor.
A grimace threatened to break through, but he held it back, reluctantly reaching for the cloth.
He needed to finish what he had started.
Resigned, he began cleaning the area beneath his bed.
He wanted to get it done quickly because afterward, he planned to go back to trying to sleep.
And he really hoped he would succeed this time.
...
This time, he succeeded.
Maybe the exhaustion had finally piled up so much that his body could no longer resist the need for rest. It took a few hours for sleep to claim him, but it did. For about three hours.
Not much, but compared to the restless nights he'd been having lately, it made a difference.
He woke up around 7 a.m., feeling a little lighter.
His gaze stayed fixed on the ceiling, the dark room pressing heavily on his tired eyes.
If it was 7 a.m., then he had about an hour and a half before school started. Megumi didn't dwell on it, though. He got out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom.
From then on, it was business as usual.
Brush your teeth, avoid the mirror.
He soon realized he had slept in his school uniform when he glanced down at his clothes.
He should probably change. He had two of Asahi's uniforms, after all.
So, he did.
Stripping off the top pieces, Megumi let his eyes linger on his chest for a moment.
Despite his profession, his skin bore surprisingly few scars. He rarely got hurt badly enough that Ieiri couldn't fully heal his injuries.
But there were exceptions. Two, to be exact.
Just above his heart, a thin, diagonal scar cut across his chest, barely skimming his nipple. It was where Maki's Soul Split Katana had exited his body after piercing him. He was sure there was a matching scar on his back where the blade had first entered.
It wasn't grotesque, but it was certainly enough to raise questions if anyone saw it. After all, a puncture just above the heart was bound to draw attention.
The other scar, however, was far more unsettling.
In the center of his chest were five distinct marks—like the imprint of fingers that had dug into his skin. Which was exactly what had happened.
Ironic, really. The scar had been left by his best friend. Yuji had driven his hand into Sukuna's chest to destroy his heart, and in doing so, Megumi had been marked as well.
This scar was fading too, but it remained noticeable. And it certainly wasn't the kind of thing anyone would expect to see on someone's chest.
The scar had nearly faded, but it was still visible enough. And, of course, it wasn't something you'd expect to see on a person's chest.
Megumi had borne other scars, too, like the ones on his face. They had appeared after Sukuna was separated from his body, mirroring the King of Curses' extra eyes. Thankfully, those scars had faded over time.
Megumi wasn't sure if he could've handled looking at his reflection every day and seeing those cursed marks staring back at him. It was hard enough as it was, let alone with a constant reminder of what he had been. Of what he had done.
But if the scars left by Sukuna's incarnation could fade, why hadn't the ones from Maki's katana or Yuji's hand?
Well, those were different. They were damage to the soul. And soul damage was something altogether more complicated.
Even with the use of reverse cursed energy, soul damage cannot be healed. The only way to address such damage is if one can perceive the soul itself—and even then, it's far more difficult than healing normal wounds.
So, though the injuries had closed, the scars remained. And they might never fade.
Megumi shook his head, trying to dispel those thoughts as he finished undressing. He didn't need to dwell on what had happened—he just needed to change.
He slipped into a fresh uniform, nearly identical to the one he had been wearing: the gray Asahi coat, black pants, and white shirt. He paired it with a random pair of sneakers he grabbed from his closet.
With that, he picked up his bag from where it had been tossed in the corner, slung it over his shoulder, and made his way to the kitchen for breakfast.
And by breakfast, he meant a simple piece of toast.
Not wasting much time, he ate quickly and then headed to the door, pausing to glance at the clock one last time.
7:35 a.m.
It seemed late enough. Reaching for the doorknob, Megumi turned it and stepped out of the apartment, leaving his home behind as he faced yet another day of school.
....
What Megumi didn't expect to see as he arrived at Asahi's entrance was a limousine parked just beyond the gates.
He paused for a moment, eyeing the vehicle. Asahi wasn't exactly a prestigious school, so seeing a limousine here was unusual, to say the least.
Still, it didn't really matter. He started walking again, deciding not to give the car a second thought.
That is, until the door swung open right in front of him as he was passing by, forcing him to stop in his tracks once more.
A grimace flickered across his face, but it quickly shifted to recognition and then resignation as he saw who stepped out of the car.
Hot pink hair, tied up in butterfly-shaped ribbons on each side, paired with a long-sleeved black uniform—it was Nino Nakano, who exited the limo without even glancing in his direction.
Megumi's bored eyes trailed her for a moment. Of course, it's the Nakanos. That explained the limo.
"Hey, Fushiguro-san!" came an enthusiastic voice—Yotsuba's, no doubt, even before he turned to see her bounding out of the vehicle with her usual friendly grin.
Megumi's eyes briefly met hers, but he didn't bother with a response.
Yotsuba looked like she was about to launch into a conversation, "You know, I—" but was interrupted by her own squeal as she was gently pushed forward by another pair of hands.
"You're blocking the way, Yotsuba..." came Itsuki's tired voice as she exited the limo. She gave Megumi a polite nod. "Good morning, Fushiguro-kun."
"Wow, first time I've seen you before class," Ichika added as she stepped out as well, flashing a casual smile. "Couldn't wait to see us, huh?" she teased.
He definitely wouldn't say that.
As expected, Megumi didn't bother to respond, his expression unchanged. His attention drifted back to the limousine, watching as the last of the Nakano sisters stepped out.
Miku, much like Nino, didn't offer him any kind of greeting. She simply walked past him to join Nino, her steps quiet.
Seeing her reminded Megumi of his conversation with Maruo yesterday. He had half-heartedly promised to keep an eye on Miku.
His gaze lingered on her retreating figure for a moment, but his mind quickly drifted. He... really wasn't looking forward to this new responsibility.
Ichika's voice snapped Megumi out of his thoughts. "But hey, seeing you here reminded me of something," she said, casually closing the limo door behind her. "When do your lessons actually take place?"
Megumi responded bluntly. "If you want a schedule, it's random."
In truth, it was more like whenever he felt like teaching.
Ichika chuckled at that. "Oh? Where's your professionalism?" she teased, then added, "Well, this whole 'random' thing might end up making me miss a few sessions."
He raised an eyebrow at her comment, but before he could ask, Yotsuba chimed in.
"She found a job!" the girl announced cheerfully, placing a hand on her older sister's shoulder.
This caught Megumi off guard. "A job?" he echoed.
"Indeed," Ichika confirmed, a playful smile creeping across her face. "Shocked, Megumi-kun?"
"I can't blame him," Itsuki remarked, adjusting her backpack. "We were all surprised when you told us yesterday."
"Aw, come on! It's not like I can't put in the effort, you know?" Ichika replied, affectionately nuzzling the younger girl.
"And if you're curious about what she's doing for work…" Yotsuba began, a grin spreading across her face. She chuckled awkwardly and scratched her head. "Well, we are too."
Megumi blinked, trying to process Yotsuba's comment.
Itsuki sighed and rolled her eyes. "Ichika won't tell us," she explained, her tone filled with mild exasperation. "She says it's supposed to be a surprise."
"If I spoil it now, what's the fun in that?" Ichika said with a carefree shrug. "You guys just need to learn some patience~"
"Are you coming or not?" Nino's impatient voice cut in. She stood way ahead of the group, arms crossed and frowning at them, with Miku by her side.
"Ha! Talk about patience..." Ichika joked, glancing at Nino before turning back to the others. "Come on, we don't want to keep our Buddha waiting."
Yotsuba giggled at her sister's comment, while Itsuki just nodded, her gaze shifting toward the looming structure of Asahi ahead.
With that, the group of four started walking toward the school entrance. Despite her obvious irritation, Nino chose to wait for them to catch up before moving on.
"Speaking of schedules..." Ichika said suddenly, turning toward Yotsuba. "What's your practice schedule with the basketball team again?"
Yotsuba's face lit up at the opportunity to talk about the team. "Training on Wednesdays and Fridays, games on the weekend!" she announced enthusiastically before turning to Megumi. "And don't worry, Fushiguro-san! I'll make time for your lessons too." she promised.
"Uh-huh." Megumi mumbled in response, not exactly invested in the conversation.
"Lessons, lessons..." Nino muttered from a little farther ahead, glancing back at them. "Who even cares? Just skip them."
Megumi frowned slightly at that remark.
"Our father would be wasting his money on Fushiguro-kun, then." Itsuki said seriously, directing a stern look at Nino.
"He already is," Nino replied with a shrug. "Why hire a tutor? We can study on our own just fine."
Itsuki obviously disagreed, and, honestly, she was living proof that wasn't true.
"Can you?" Megumi asked, unimpressed. "So I'm assuming you reviewed yesterday's test?"
Nino froze, raising her eyebrows as she shot Megumi a sideways glance.
Of course, she hadn't. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind.
But hey, Itsuki probably did, so she could just bluff her way through this.
Puffing out her chest, she answered with confidence, "Obviously. We're not as irresponsible as you think."
"I see..." Megumi murmured thoughtfully. He could definitely use this to his advantage—not to contradict Nino directly, but to test something involving Miku.
After a brief pause, he asked calmly, "Who was the warlord defeated at the Battle of Itsukushima?"
He picked that particular question because it was one Miku had gotten right on the test.
Now he could also find out if her earlier failure to answer a history question was due to ignorance or simply because she chose not to.
Nino stiffened at the question, clearly not expecting him to quiz her out of the blue.
Silently, she shifted her gaze toward Itsuki, hoping for backup.
But Itsuki said nothing, her eyes cast downward as a blush crept up her cheeks.
Ichika chuckled softly, scratching her head.
Yotsuba, meanwhile, had started counting on her fingers—despite the fact that it was a history question—before eventually giving up and shrugging apologetically.
But Megumi wasn't watching any of them. His focus was entirely on Miku.
She stood there with her back to him, completely still. She didn't turn around, didn't move, and didn't make a sound.
In other words, she had no intention of answering the question.
After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Nino turned away and started walking again. "Who cares about some random warlord..." she muttered under her breath, prompting a sharp glare from Miku for reasons only she knew. "Like any of us will ever need to know that."
"Honestly, I could say the same for half the stuff we learn in school." Ichika chimed in casually, picking up her pace to walk alongside her sisters.
Itsuki frowned at that, giving Ichika a serious look. "That kind of attitude won't help you, Ichika." she warned.
Ichika merely shrugged, grinning shamelessly. "Can you blame me, though? There are so many more interesting things to do than study."
This clearly bothered Itsuki, as she frowned even more deeply. "Studying is important..."
Ichika smiled but didn't engage further. "Hm. If you say so..." she said, deciding not to press the issue and further annoy her younger sister.
Itsuki's expression softened slightly. "Speaking of studying..." she muttered, looking up at Megumi. "I haven't reviewed the test yet, as you can probably tell," she admitted, then added, "But I will, as soon as I have time."
"Mm." Megumi hummed, distracted by his own thoughts. Still, he followed protocol. "I can help you review during the next lesson."
"That would be helpful, actually," Itsuki replied, sounding relieved.
"Ooh, can I join?" Yotsuba jumped in eagerly. "I got an 8, so I need to go over it too!" she added with a sheepish grin.
"The offer stands for all five of you." Megumi said, making it clear the option was open for the whole group.
"Very kind of you, but I'll pass." Ichika said dismissively, completely unconcerned.
Megumi raised an eyebrow. "What if I decided to make the lesson a review of the test?"
"Then it wouldn't be an offer anymore, would it?" Ichika quipped with a cheeky grin.
Well, he couldn't argue with that logic.
They eventually entered Asahi, and as they walked down the first corridor, the group naturally split up to head to their respective classrooms.
Itsuki and Megumi found themselves walking together, silent but not awkwardly so. The quiet gave Megumi space to let his thoughts drift back to earlier, specifically to Miku's behavior.
He was now certain that Miku had been deliberately avoiding his questions—even the ones she clearly knew the answers to.
But why? He had no clue. It didn't seem like shyness; Miku could be quite blunt and probably wouldn't pass up a chance to show off her knowledge—especially given her reluctance to accept him as her tutor.
In the end, her behavior puzzled him, leaving him to speculate.
Whatever her reasons, Megumi replayed Maruo's words in his head:
Miku has difficulty interacting with people and is extremely closed off.
In other words, Megumi knew that he would have to approach her carefully, so as not to make her feel uncomfortable.
....
"Why didn't you answer it?" Megumi asked bluntly as soon as he approached Miku in the cafeteria.
It was recess, and for the first time, Megumi had left the classroom on his own, determined to get an answer from Miku as soon as possible.
Miku froze at his words, clearly caught off guard by his sudden approach. Slowly, she turned to face him, holding a tray with a sandwich and that matcha soda Nino had slandered earlier.
"...Answer what?" she asked cautiously, her expression tense.
"The question I asked earlier," Megumi clarified. "You got it right on the test, so why didn't you answer?"
Miku's lips pressed into a thin line, her expression becoming guarded. Before Megumi could push any further, Yotsuba's cheerful voice cut in.
"Fushiguro-san!" she called out with a smile, handing him a sheet of paper. "Glad to see you out of the classroom! Look at this!"
He shot a brief, sidelong glance at Yotsuba, then reluctantly turned his attention to the paper. "What's this?"
"My English assignment! I messed up every question!" she said proudly, grinning as if it were some sort of accomplishment.
Megumi stared at her, baffled. "...You want me to congratulate you?" he muttered, genuinely confused.
Before Yotsuba could respond, Ichika appeared behind her with a smile, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Now, Yotsuba, Megumi-kun was trying to have a conversation with Miku here!" she teased lightly.
Yotsuba paused, glancing at Ichika before shifting her gaze between Megumi and Miku. "Oh..." she murmured, scratching her head awkwardly. "Hehe... sorry for interrupting."
"Don't worry about it..." Megumi muttered, turning back to Miku. "Now, talk."
"But wait!" Yotsuba interrupted again, much to Miku's obvious relief. "I just wanted to tell you something about the basketball team, Fushiguro-san!"
Megumi frowned slightly, his expression unamused. "Make it quick." he said.
"I'm starting next week," she announced with a grin. "I wanted to start earlier, but they haven't registered me yet."
Megumi held her gaze for a moment, clearly waiting for more. When it became evident that was all, his frustration simmered beneath the surface. "...Alright, Yotsuba," he muttered, refocusing on Miku. "So—"
"Speaking of the team," Yotsuba interjected again, her tone more serious this time, "I heard one of the players broke her leg in a car accident."
"Oh?" Ichika raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "That's awful. How bad is it?"
"They're saying she'll need pins in her leg for a long time..." Yotsuba's usual energy dimmed as the conversation turned somber. "The team's planning to visit her in the hospital," she added, before grinning again. "They even invited me, and I haven't even trained with them yet!"
Ichika tilted her head with a knowing smile. "Let me guess, you accepted the invite?"
"Of course!" Yotsuba nodded enthusiastically. "We're going this week. We're bringing her flowers and cards!"
Megumi's expression darkened with every passing second. He had a gnawing suspicion that getting Miku to open up was a lost cause with Yotsuba and Ichika lingering around.
Then again, he wasn't sure he'd be able to get Miku to talk even if they weren't there.
"I'm not sure when the hospital visit will be," Yotsuba said, shifting her attention to Megumi. "So, how about we do that second lesson of yours today, Fushiguro-san?" she suggested.
Megumi cast her a sideways glance. "Today?" he repeated, giving a reluctant nod. "Fine."
"Great! After class, then," Yotsuba grinned, immediately turning to Ichika. "You're coming too, right?"
Ichika smiled lazily. "Aw... but didn't we just have a lesson yesterday?" she teased, her voice light and playful. "Isn't that a bit overkill?"
Yotsuba shrugged. "Better to get it done now so we'll have the rest of the week free!" she reasoned.
"Maybe," Ichika responded casually, "but it's still exhausting. Don't forget, we had a test yesterday too."
Yotsuba frowned. "So... you don't want to study?"
Ichika sighed dramatically, spreading her arms wide. "There are way better ways to survive school..." she mused. "Like... falling in love!"
"Falling in love?" Yotsuba gasped, eyes lighting up. "I love love!"
Ichika chuckled, nudging her sister with a playful grin. "Oh, really? So, do you have a crush, then?"
Yotsuba's face turned beet red, but she quickly waved off the suggestion. "No, no! I don't have time for that!" she said hurriedly. "I have to focus on my studies!"
Megumi's weary gaze stayed fixed on Miku, even as he was forced to listen to the chatter in the background. His thoughts were far away, though. He just wanted to get on with what he was supposed to be doing.
Across from him, Miku tightened her grip on the tray she held, visibly uncomfortable under the weight of Megumi's unrelenting stare.
Miku's focus shifted as Ichika turned her attention toward her.
"And what about you, Miku?" Ichika asked, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Do you... love someone?"
The question lingered in the air before Miku responded, her tone flat and emotionless. "No."
Without another word, she seized the moment to turn and walk away.
But as she made her exit, her mind wandered back to Megumi's earlier question—the one he had asked about why she didn't answer, even though she clearly knew the response.
Her brow furrowed in frustration, a heavy discomfort tightening in her chest.
She should've said something. She could've. But the words just wouldn't come. Damn it...
Yotsuba and Ichika watched her retreat, while Megumi silently followed her with his gaze, his expression tinged with quiet disappointment.
Still no answer.
Yotsuba slowly raised her hands to her cheeks, her voice barely above a whisper. "That... that expression..."
"I know, right?" Ichika chimed in, her grin widening as she turned toward Yotsuba. "That look... it can only mean..." she paused for effect, letting the moment hang.
That she's just fed up with your nonsense? Megumi thought bitterly.
"She's in love!" the sisters declared in unison.
Well, Megumi wasn't exactly convinced. That didn't look like a face brimming with love to him.
And now, he'd have to wait until after class to try again. Wonderful.
.....
As Megumi sat down after recess, he sighed deeply, organizing his materials with a sense of frustration. This whole situation felt like it was going nowhere.
However, as he reached under his table, his fingers brushed against a piece of paper. He frowned, pulling out a note he hadn't noticed before.
Inspecting it more closely, his eyebrows lifted in recognition. It was from Miku.
Unfolding the note, Megumi scanned the words written there:
'After school, meet me on the rooftop. I need to talk to you. No matter what I do, I can't contain this feeling anymore.'
He stared at the note for a moment, expressionless, before folding it and slipping it under the desk.
Just like Maruo had said, Miku wasn't the best at communicating. This note could easily be taken the wrong way.
But Megumi wasn't one to jump to conclusions. From her tension earlier, it was obvious the "feeling" she wanted to talk about likely had to do with the question he'd asked her.
Still, it was progress. And now, all he could do was wait for class to end.
.....
Megumi waited on the rooftop, his expression unreadable as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, staring at the stairwell door.
He had been waiting for about seven minutes, and the hot afternoon sun was starting to grate on him. Miku could have been more specific about the timing.
Leaning against the railing, he let his eyes wander across the horizon, lost in thought. A cool breeze brushed against his skin, providing a refreshing contrast to the warmth enveloping him.
After a few moments, the door to the rooftop creaked open, and Miku stepped out, her expression tense. Megumi's gaze shifted to her.
She approached with short, almost hesitant steps. Though her face was blank, the stiffness in her shoulders betrayed her tension.
Miku stopped just a few meters in front of him, staring at him without saying anything for a few moments.
"Since you really wanted to hear me talk..." she began, her voice quiet and cautious. "...listen to this and take this nagging weight off me."
Megumi remained silent, observing her closely. Miku took a deep breath, closing her eyes and frowning as she struggled to find her words. "H—... H—..."
He continued to watch her intently. Her voice trembled slightly, and he couldn't help but wonder why this was such a big deal for her.
"Harukata Sue!" she finally blurted out, letting out a sigh of relief. "There. I feel better now."
So that was it—it really was about that history question he had asked. But why only now, and why alone? Why not in front of her sisters?
As she turned to leave, Megumi wasn't about to let her slip away that easily. "That's not what I asked." he said simply, making her stop in her tracks.
Miku slowly turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, her eyes unreadable. "...I answered the question you asked," she replied matter-of-factly. "And I got it right, I'm sure."
"That's true," he confirmed, pushing himself off the railing. "But why did you only answer now?"
"Because I felt like it." she replied coldly.
Megumi wasn't convinced. "You were tense when I asked the question," he pointed out. "'Because you felt like it' suggests you made that decision of your own free will, but your posture indicates it stemmed from discomfort."
Miku fell silent, but he noticed her eyes narrowing with apprehension at his reasoning.
"It's not the first time I've observed something like this in you," Megumi continued. "Last week, I asked about Japan's greatest shogun, and you showed the same signs."
She remained silent, staring at him, but Megumi pressed on. "Both questions were about history," he noted. "Your best subject."
Miku's fists clenched at her sides.
"And when I mentioned history yesterday, you were clearly uncomfortable..." Megumi said, slightly narrowing his eyes.
"So tell me: Do you dislike answering questions in general," he began, raising an eyebrow, "or just the history questions?"
Her fists tightened further, and Miku let out a ragged breath. "Mind your own business..." she whispered harshly.
"You are my business," Megumi shot back, catching her off guard. His expression remained impassive as he continued, "My job is to help you, and that's what I'm trying to do."
He continued, "You're pretty blunt. I've noticed that," Megumi said. "So why not answer something so simple? Why not support Nino back there? Why not make me eat my words, especially if you don't want me as a tutor?" he pressed.
With every word he spoke, Miku felt increasingly exposed. How was this even possible?
Megumi fell silent for a moment, observing her tense posture. Maybe he was meddling, maybe he was being too abrupt or too harsh, but this was the only way he could think of to draw Miku closer. He could only hope it worked.
Besides, he had already gone too far to back down now. He was committed.
Given that Miku had only felt comfortable answering him when they were alone up here on the rooftop, he considered several possibilities.
Megumi wasn't typically one to make assumptions. But today, he would make an exception.
"Was it because your sisters were around?" he asked.
Miku's eyes widened, and her breath caught in her throat.
How?
She stared at him in shock for a few moments.
Was she really that easy to read? No, she was sure she wasn't. After all, she took extra care to keep her discomfort hidden.
It worked with the staff, the teachers, and her classmates. It rarely worked with her sisters, as they knew her better, but even then, it still slipped through, ocasionally.
So why not with Megumi?
Why did he keep questioning her, even when she remained silent?
Why did he keep pushing, insisting on getting answers, even after she had rebuffed him time and again?
Why did he keep asking if she was okay, even when she tried her best to mask it and project that everything was fine?
Why...
"Why... did you notice so much... about me?" Miku asked, her voice cracking slightly.
Megumi wondered the same thing, actually.
Perhaps it was because Maruo had asked, but he had been noticing her behavior long before that.
Maybe he wanted to be more like Yuji, who would definitely notice and help someone struggling with something.
Or maybe it went deeper than that.
Perhaps it was because he recognized the signs of someone silently struggling; after all, he had always done the same himself.
"...I don't know," he replied hesitantly, moving closer to stand beside her. Miku didn't move to leave, so he didn't step away.
Even though she was facing forward to avoid his gaze, he could see a mix of frustration, vulnerability, and confusion etched on her face.
This was the most emotional he had ever seen Miku. In fact, her facade had crumbled.
He could see it in the way her bottom lip trembled, in the furrow of her brow, in how tightly her fists were clenched, and in the way her eyes focused intently on one spot—fearful of being exposed.
But there was also a clear need to be heard.
She looked so fragile, so uncertain, and it tugged at something within him that he couldn't quite name.
Yet, deep down, he understood.
He could relate.
"... Just know that I won't judge you." he said calmly, his voice softening.
His words hung in the air for a moment, met with silence.
Miku gritted her teeth, her expression contorting into a grimace of melancholy.
Those were words she had expected to hear from one of her sisters during a difficult moment, not from a boy she had only met a little over a week ago.
And yet, here was Megumi, reading her like an open book and offering her the chance to vent.
She closed her eyes, feeling the gentle breeze brush against her face, and took a deep breath.
Without thinking too much, she reached into the pocket of her blue jacket. Casting a wary glance at Megumi, she whispered, "Don't laugh..."
Megumi nodded slightly. He wouldn't be so callous as to laugh, no matter what Miku chose to show him.
The girl pulled out her cell phone, the familiar weight of the device feeling even heavier in her hands at that moment, and held it in front of her.
Miku glanced at the blank screen, debating whether this was worth it. After a brief look at Megumi, she returned her gaze to her phone and sighed.
Whatever.
She clicked to turn on her phone, stopping at the lock screen, and hesitantly placed the device in front of Megumi's face.
He looked at the only thing displayed: an image on her wallpaper—a historical emblem, if he wasn't mistaken.
It was the Takeda family crest, a symbol of Japanese history.
Megumi analyzed the image in silence for a few seconds, trying to decipher what Miku was conveying without words.
Miku, however, felt the need to explain. "If you haven't noticed yet... I like history," she murmured, turning off her cell phone and slipping it back into her pocket. "Especially from the Sengoku period."
Megumi nodded slowly, absorbing her words. So that was it? She liked history? He had kind of expected that, but it still didn't explain her behavior.
After a moment of silence, Miku looked away, her fingers fidgeting in front of her. "Don't... tell my sisters." she asked quietly.
"...I won't," Megumi replied, somewhat out of obligation. He didn't really understand why that mattered. "But may I ask why?"
Miku hesitated, her gaze distant, before she sighed and moved to one of the benches on the rooftop.
"It's just... embarrassing." she said, sitting down with a dejected expression.
Megumi watched her for a few moments before slowly approaching her.
Miku continued, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "It all started when Yotsuba lent me a game about the Sengoku era," she murmured as Megumi sat down next to her. "I ended up becoming interested in war generals, their ambitions, and histories... so I researched more about them..."
Megumi listened in silence, waiting patiently before asking anything.
"That interest soon turned into an obsession..." Miku admitted shyly. "But... that's just... weird." she murmured, lowering her head so her hair obscured her face.
Megumi raised an eyebrow. "Weird?" he echoed, confused. "Why do you say that?"
She sighed, trying to explain, though her voice had grown much quieter. "While my classmates usually like beautiful models or handsome Hollywood actors... I like older men with facial hair..." she said, bringing her hands up to bury her face. "That is weird."
But Megumi couldn't quite grasp her logic.
"You just described how people have different tastes," he said nonchalantly. "I don't see how that's wrong."
Miku lifts her head slightly, allowing a single eye to meet Megumi's gaze.
Megumi pauses, noticing just how insecure Miku really is; it's evident in her words.
She struggles with her tastes, which explains her discomfort in sharing her knowledge of history—even with her sisters.
But how was he supposed to approach this? Maruo had mentioned that they tried therapy and it hadn't helped, so what could Megumi do differently?
...Understand her.
After all, he, too, harbored insecurities, albeit for different reasons.
And while he may not excel with words, he was skilled in logic. He would rely on that.
"Do you like sports?" Megumi asks suddenly, causing Miku to frown in confusion.
He already suspected her answer; after all, the Nakanos had made it clear that Miku sucks at physical activities at the table that day. But Megumi needed to frame it logically.
Miku raises her head fully now but looks away. "I don't..." she murmurs, her tone darkening at the mention of sports.
"Yotsuba does," Megumi points out simply. "Do you think she's weird for that?"
His words catch Miku off guard, and she quickly turns her attention back to him. "...Of course not." she denies.
"And poetry?" he asks, his tone steady. "Do you enjoy it?"
"I..." Miku hesitates, wondering what he's getting at. "I don't like it." she finally admits.
"Itsuki does," Megumi states, and Miku begins to grasp his intention. "And I'm sure you don't find her weird for that."
Megumi could have mentioned Nino and Ichika's interests, but he didn't know much about them.
Well, Ichika liked to sleep and annoy those around her, but that was beside the point.
"They don't share your tastes, and you might find it hard to understand what they see in poetry and sports," Megumi begins, allowing his gaze to wander across the sky. "But that doesn't make them weird. So why should it make you feel that way?"
Miku sighs, her shoulders drooping slightly. "Poetry and sports are such common interests..." she murmurs, staring down at her lap. "But... liking warlords?"
Megumi shrugs, unfazed. "It's just a taste like any other."
Miku doesn't seem convinced, so Megumi decides to be more direct.
"Listen, Miku, everyone has their own interests. Judging someone for something so trivial is deplorable," he says, meeting her gaze. "And history is a far more common interest than you might think."
He wouldn't lie and say he enjoyed history; he found the subject somewhat boring. Still, he was sure it was popular among many.
Besides, he had encountered people with stranger and more obscure interests, making Miku's fixation on history seem almost laughable.
"...Maybe," she replies quietly. "But it's still... strange."
Megumi sighs internally, realizing he needs to find another way to connect with her.
So he decides to share one of his own interests. "I like nonfiction," he says after a moment, noticing the puzzled expression on her face. "Yeah, I enjoy reading, but instead of fantastical tales, I prefer the dull realism."
Miku's expression softened a bit at that. "Really...? Nonfiction?" she whispered, her voice tentative.
Megumi nodded.
Miku hesitated for a moment before admitting, "It's... my favorite genre..."
Megumi blinked, not expecting to find common ground with her so suddenly.
But that was even better, wasn't it?
Megumi hummed thoughtfully. "Do you have a favorite book?" he asked.
Miku considered for a moment before mumbling, "Quiet by Susan Cain."
Megumi couldn't help but think it suited her perfectly, given her introverted nature.
"I see..." he replied, then asked, "Any particular reason you like this book?"
Megumi already had an idea of the answer; he had read it and knew its themes. But he wanted to hear it from Miku, hoping that discussing something she enjoyed would help her open up more.
Miku shifted in her seat, her gaze drifting to the floor as she gathered her thoughts. "I guess... the book kind of suits me," she admitted quietly. "It's about being introverted and... that it's okay," her voice lowered even further.
"It resonates with you," he simplified, and Miku nodded. "Makes sense."
They fell into silence for a few moments, and Miku seemed like she wanted to ask something.
After a second, she finally gathered her courage. "What about you?" she asked, prompting Megumi to glance at her. "Uhm... any favorite books?"
Megumi took a moment to register the question before replying, "The Power of Myth." He paused, trying to recall the author's name before continuing, "By Joseph Campbell."
Miku nodded slightly. "Never read it..."
"It's... interesting." Megumi said, directing his gaze toward the door to the staircase.
Miku tilted her head. "What's it about?" she asked, her voice gaining a bit of confidence.
Megumi turned his attention back to her. "It explores the significance of mythology in human culture. How stories shape our understanding of the world," he explained. "The common themes in myths across different cultures and how they reflect universal human experiences."
Megumi liked this book because it resonated with his reality.
To the outside world, curses were just a myth. Since the events of December 24, 2017, conspiracy theories about the existence of these creatures had surged, but despite the difficulties, curses remained mere myths to most people.
So, while the book treated curses as fictional, it was still fascinating to Megumi.
"Oh..." Miku murmured, clearly intrigued. She liked myths. "Maybe I'll read it someday." she added softly.
Megumi nodded slightly, his gaze fixed on her. He noticed she seemed a bit more comfortable now that they had shared a common interest.
Deciding to delve deeper, he asked, "Do you think your sisters would judge you?"
Miku froze at the question. She looked up at him, a wary expression forming. "Uh... I-I..."
"They wouldn't," he said simply, causing her to pause. Then, Megumi added, "I didn't judge you. Why would your own sisters?"
Miku blinked at that. He had a point, yes. But still...
"It's difficult..." she murmured, lowering her gaze once again.
"There are a lot of people in this world who are quick to judge you," Megumi begins. "Your sisters are not among them. Quite the contrary."
After all, he had seen how Ichika cared for her sisters when she thanked him for helping Itsuki with the two bullies, and he had noticed Nino's concern for Miku's health that day in the cafeteria.
"I know that," Miku murmurs, frowning slightly. "But it's precisely because they are my siblings that I shouldn't talk to them about this..."
Megumi furrows his brow at her words. "Why is that?" he asks, struggling to grasp her reasoning.
"Are you going to tell me you didn't notice?" Miku replies, her expression growing sad. "Among the five of us... I'm the most boring."
Megumi's eyebrows raise, taken aback by her statement.
I see... he thinks, slowly composing himself. I think I understand now.
Miku's issue wasn't just about her tastes, it was about confidence, as Maruo suggested and Megumi suspected.
She didn't merely find her interests dull; she found herself boring.
Miku knits her eyebrows together, pulling her feet up onto the bench to wrap her arms around her knees. "I'm not as hardworking and determined as Itsuki..." she begins, her voice barely above a whisper. "And I'm not energetic or healthy like Yotsuba..."
A soft sigh escapes her lips as she pulls her knees even closer to her chest. "I'm not as easygoing and sociable as Ichika... nor as stylish and confident as Nino." When she finishes speaking, her eyes look up at Megumi. "You get it? I'm just... me."
Megumi listens intently, his expression softening a bit. He sighs, searching for the right words to comfort her.
But once again, he struggles to articulate his thoughts.
He understood her completely; he had gone through something similar himself.
Yet he didn't know how to help her because he was still grappling with his own issues.
And no matter how much support he received, in the end, nothing changed.
But he couldn't just offer no support; that wouldn't be right.
So, in that moment, Megumi finds himself wondering once again:
What would Yuji do?
Then, Megumi remembered something.
She had mentioned the qualities of her sisters, so if he had to name one for her…
"Among them, you are the best," he said simply, causing Miku's eyes to widen in shock.
She looked up at him, confusion and surprise mixed on her face. "I... I am?" she whispered.
Megumi nodded as he stood up from the bench. "You are the smartest among them, as I said before," he explained. Miku faltered slightly, and he elaborated. "You got good grades for most of last semester. So, you excel in that area."
Miku pressed her lips into a thin line. "But it still wasn't enough, like you said yesterday..." she murmured, her voice uncertain.
Megumi sighed internally. He hadn't chosen his words carefully the day before, and it was clear they had left a mark.
"Forget what I said yesterday," he muttered, a slight frown forming. "I didn't really know you back then, but now I understand what you're dealing with."
"Which is exactly why you should just give up on me." Miku whispered, shrinking back into herself.
"Not happening." Megumi responded without hesitation.
Miku let out a sigh. "But why? You should focus on the other four. They can do so much more than I ever could."
"I don't agree," Megumi said firmly. "Just like I said, you're the smartest of the group."
"But intelligence is something they can gain too," she said softly, her gaze fixed on the ground. "Anything I can do, they can do just as well." She forced a small, sad smile that didn't reach her eyes. "After all, we're quintuplets."
Her words made Megumi pause and think.
Anything she can do, they can do too...
He had noticed something in yesterday's tests.
"And why do you think you can't do what they can?" he asked, turning to face her fully. He reached into his backpack and pulled something out. "Take a look," he said, handing her a sheet of paper. "What do you see?"
Miku paused, studying the paper, her brow knitting in confusion. "Is this... the answers from yesterday's test?"
"There's a pattern," Megumi pointed out. "Try to figure it out."
Miku squinted at the paper, her eyes scanning it until something seemed to click.
"Oh..." she whispered, looking up at him. "None of our correct answers match."
"Exactly," Megumi said. "At first glance, it might seem like proof that you can't do what your sisters do... but I don't see it that way."
Miku stared at him, confused.
"What I see is that each of you is unique, even though you're quintuplets," he continued. "Each of you has your own strengths, areas where you shine. And that includes you."
Her eyebrows lifted slightly, and she glanced at the paper again before returning her gaze to Megumi.
"You don't need to be like your sisters. You don't need to succeed like them," he pressed on, his voice gentle but firm. "Succeed like Miku. Be Miku."
Her eyes widened, lips parting slightly in surprise.
He wanted her to be herself, flaws and all? To succeed as herself? As Miku Nakano?
Megumi didn't realize the weight of what he was asking, did he?
But...
"And my job is to help all five of you do well," he added, his tone more firm now. "So no, I'm not giving up on you, Miku."
... But she wanted to believe him.
Her expression softened, and she glanced down at the paper again, releasing a deep sigh. "Did you really take that 'quintuplet' thing I said seriously?" she asked, half-joking.
"Maybe," he replied with a casual shrug. "It sounded wise enough."
A small smile tugged at Miku's lips. She glanced up at him. "Don't put too much faith in that." she said, handing the paper back.
"My faith is in you." Megumi corrected calmly as he took the paper. The sincerity in his words caught her off guard, and Miku found herself stunned for a moment.
She stared at him in silence, swallowing dryly.
She hadn't expected this—not the words, not the tone. Was this really the same person who spoke so differently yesterday?
She had planned to answer his question and leave the rooftop as quickly as possible, but now... now she didn't mind staying a little longer.
All because Megumi was a little too perceptive. The thought amused her.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "I guess... I'll have to try."
If he believed in her potential, maybe she should to believe in his words. Maybe she should try.
Megumi gave her a simple nod, feeling a sense of satisfaction at her agreement.
He wasn't a therapist, but perhaps he had managed to ease some of her doubts, if only for a moment.
His gaze drifted to the sky as the sun sank lower, casting a warm golden hue over the rooftop.
So, that was it?
Maybe he had made progress. Miku appeared lighter, her posture more relaxed, and a small smile graced her lips. That was a good sign, after all.
As they stood in silence, Megumi stared at the horizon, noting the time. "It's getting late," he said. "We should head back. Your sisters are probably wondering where you are."
Miku nodded, standing up and smoothing out her skirt. "Yeah, you're right." she agreed, glancing up at the fading light in the sky.
Megumi gestured towards the door leading back inside, and Miku followed him down the stairs. As they walked, something caught her eye—a vending machine.
She stopped, casting a quick glance at Megumi. "Can you wait a second?"
Megumi paused, looking back at her. "Sure."
Miku made her way to the vending machine, scanning through the options until she found what she was looking for—matcha soda. She glanced at Megumi, who wasn't paying attention, before hesitating for a moment.
But then again, he hadn't judged her tastes so far.
With a small smile, she fished out some coins and bought the soda. Turning back to Megumi, she approached him with a shy smile, clearing her throat to get his attention.
"Here," she said, offering him the can. "It's my favorite. Don't worry, there's no snot in it."
Megumi blinked, staring at the can in her hand, confused by her strange comment. His gaze shifted from the soda to Miku, who was waiting expectantly.
He frowned slightly, realizing she was probably referencing something, perhaps a historical event.
...But he had no idea what it was.
"Uh..." he began, hesitating.
Miku waited for his response for a moment, but soon she recognized that he didn't understand what she was talking about. She couldn't help but chuckle at his expression.
"...Mitsunari Ishida drank tea with Ohatani Yoshitsugu's snot." she explained, gently pushing the soda can toward him.
"Oh..." Megumi muttered, accepting the drink and feeling a bit embarrassed. "I didn't know that."
After all, it was such a random fact that he doubted it would even be mentioned in history books.
"It's okay," Miku replied softly. She wasn't going to stress over something like that, especially after the conversation they'd just had.
Besides, even if he didn't grasp all her references, it was nice to have someone willing to listen to her share bits of Japanese history. Miku felt content just being heard.
"I could teach you random historical facts like that if you wanted." she offered without thinking.
Megumi blinked at her offer, surprised.
Miku's face flushed as she realized what she'd said. "Uh... I mean... only if you want to."
He looked at her for a moment, then shrugged. "That's fine with me."
His casual response eased her embarrassment, and she let out a relieved sigh.
At least she hadn't scared him off.
Megumi turned to head back downstairs, prompting Miku to follow closely behind, her hands clasped behind her back. As they descended, he glanced at the soda can in his hand, inspecting the label.
Tea soda, just like Nino had mentioned. He didn't even know such a thing existed.
But in the end, it didn't really matter to him what it tasted like.
As they continued down the stairs, Megumi absentmindedly cracked open the can of matcha.
He raised it to his lips for a sip, and Miku stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye, her expression a mix of curiosity and nervous anticipation.
After taking a small drink, he quickly set the can aside, barely registering the flavor. It was cold, he noted, but the taste itself was as indistinct as everything else he had eaten lately—unrecognizable.
Miku continued to watch him, then hesitantly asked, "What did you think?"
Megumi paused, then shrugged nonchalantly. "I've had worse."
It was a vague answer, deliberately so. But it seemed to satisfy her.
She gave a small, faint smile, her gaze drifting to the corner of the wall as they made their way down the stairs.
Silence stretched between them for a few seconds until Miku finally broke it.
"So, when do you actually teach your lessons?" she asked softly.
"It's random," Megumi replied, echoing the same words he had told Ichika earlier. "But I'll do one more sometime this week."
"I see..." Miku murmured, leaving it at that. But Megumi understood the implication well enough.
It seemed he had gained another student.
He raised the can again, taking another sip, more out of habit than necessity.
For now, he could be content with this.
————————————————————————————————————————
Yotsuba looked around the library, her book in hand and her bag resting on the table.
She had already been there for a good few minutes.
She scanned the room, hoping to spot anyone—Megumi, Ichika, or Itsuki—but no one was around.
A frown creased her brow as she glanced at the clock on the ceiling. It was getting late, and still, no one had arrived.
"But he said we were going to study after school..." Yotsuba muttered thoughtfully, redirecting her attention to her book.
Did he forget?
No, of course not. Megumi is her tutor, after all. He's a professional, he wouldn't forget something like that.
Maybe she should just practice a little patience, like Ichika advised.
Yeah! She just had to wait.
So she plastered a smile on her face and adopted an optimistic mindset.
Waiting and waiting.
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