Temporary Study Group Formation (10)
Scratch-scratch.
The sound of the mechanical pencil moving.
Tap-tap.
The sound of Sakuya's index finger tapping the desk in rhythm.
Beep-beep-beep!
The alarm blared as the stopwatch on her smartphone hit zero.
"Time."
Sakuya stopped Tae-il's hand and snatched the paper in front of him.
She breezed through the roughly 40 short-answer questions in a flash, tapping the red pen tip against the page before clicking it down.
A big red circle appeared on the paper.
"Perfect score."
Sakuya gave Tae-il a small clap for nailing every single one.
"Haa."
Tae-il let out a sigh of relief.
Watching him, Sakuya muttered casually,
"Kinda surprising."
"What is?"
"Just... Taichi, you're smarter than I thought."
"..."
Truth be told, Sakuya had doubted Tae-il's grades a bit.
She figured his midterm scores were all thanks to his genius childhood friend. If he was barely scraping by with 70s thanks to her, his real skill was probably 60s or 50s—worst case, failing 40s or below.
But against all odds, he'd memorized every question she gave him in under 30 minutes.
"You were really confident, huh? Color me impressed."
"I was originally aiming for a school with a higher deviation score than Yuuma."
"Then why'd you come here?"
"...There's reasons. Stuff like that."
Tae-il averted his gaze, clearly uncomfortable answering.
In the past few days, Sakuya had picked up on one thing from his speech patterns.
The one time straight-shooter Tae-il—who never beat around the bush—got vague was always about his childhood friend.
And her hunch was spot on.
Tae-il had chosen Yuuma High for Ayane's sake, no other way around it.
If he hadn't made that choice back then, they might've drifted apart, and Ayane could've turned back into the original story's version he adored from afar.
But that didn't happen. Ayane rejected it herself.
"Alright. We'll check this again later to make sure it sticks. For now, let's hit your weak spots. Taichi, you're okay at Japanese history but trash at classical lit, right?"
"Japanese history's passable. Classical lit? Total write-off—I'll pass upfront. I'd probably just guess on those."
"Then what's the point of this study group? Hold on. Lemme drop a killer tip on you."
"There's tips for classical lit?"
Sakuya brushed off his skepticism and pressed on with the study session.
Against her initial worries, things were going surprisingly smoothly.
Sure, there was some friction, but for a first-time duo, it was within expectations. Tae-il's seriousness about the exams helped a ton.
At this rate, Sakuya secretly fretted, there might not be much left to study over the weekend.
'Wait, wouldn't that actually be a win?'
No study meant more personal time, in other words.
Just the two of them.
Sakuya flashed a soft smile at Tae-il struggling with haiku, then sneakily scanned his room.
'Pretty tidy for a guy's room.'
Nothing like the messy, stinky boy rooms she'd seen on the internet or SNS.
It was like something out of a manga—those male leads always had suspiciously neat rooms.
The standout stuff: stacks of mystery notebooks in the corner, an acoustic guitar, and knee-high piles of assorted CD albums.
'Music fan, huh?'
Not weird at all, so Sakuya shrugged it off.
Her volleyball seniors always said guys practiced guitar to look cool.
Still, she couldn't quite picture Tae-il strumming one.
It'd look more like...
'Kinda gloomy?'
Sakuya really felt like she had to fix those dark circles under his eyes somehow.
No matter what she imagined, they ruined it.
Like that detective from the shinigami-apple series.
"Sakuraba."
"Huh? Yeah!"
Sakuya snapped back at Tae-il's call, cursing her manga brain internally as she answered his question.
It felt more like private tutoring than a study group, but neither minded. That natural vibe was exactly what Sakuya wanted.
"See? Break it down like this, and it sticks in your head easy, right?"
"Yeah. Super simple. If I nail this, it'll help with songs too..."
Tae-il grumbled something under his breath.
Sakuya didn't catch it but figured he was trying his best.
"Sakuraba, more classical lit?"
"If you're up for it? Think your brain can handle more?"
Sakuya crossed her legs and shot him a teasing grin. Tae-il squeezed his eyes shut.
He wasn't bluffing about being good at studying.
A guy who'd aced college entrance exams back home? No way he'd struggle with a dumbed-down free-period scope, even overseas.
But studying here was just a pain anyway.
Text interpretations, Sakuya's takes, teacher analyses—all filtered through his Korean brain, spat out in Japanese.
He was starting to tsukkomi in Japanese, but studying? Still no.
He was Korean-born, through and through.
"Let's just check the short answers one last time and call it..."
"Haha, smart choice. No point pushing it. We've got the weekend."
"School was mostly self-study today anyway. My head's stuffed."
"That's 'cause you never study normally."
"Tch."
Another test.
Too lazy to rewrite on fresh paper, they switched: Sakuya read questions, Tae-il answered aloud.
No review time meant he missed three.
"Still solid, though."
"Right? Can't wait to see the teachers freak. Feels good already."
Tae-il leaned back in his chair, totally relaxed after acing back-to-back tests.
Thinking of shoving it back in those teachers' faces who tried to screw him over made him grin.
"They underestimated me big time. Idiots thinking I'd bomb obvious trick questions..."
"But if you don't know, you fail. I think the teachers were clever."
"Clever should've meant real discriminators, not screwing me over."
"Are you dumb? Should've paid attention in class then. I get why they did it."
"..."
Sakuya stabbed at him relentlessly as he grumbled in disbelief.
She tapped the paper with her finger and checked again.
"Right?"
"..."
The guilty stay silent.
Dodging the question, Tae-il groaned and buried his head in her notes.
"Anyway, memorize this, and we're good?"
His blatant dodge was kinda pitiful and cute, so Sakuya chuckled and played along.
"For now. Exams next week—no need to cram more."
"Yeah, they gotta review the questions anyway. Probably submitted by now."
Then it was really over. No more fretting.
If it stayed like this, assuming no slips, perfect score possible, Tae-il thought.
'Worried for nothing.'
Sakuya had scared him so much he'd started prepping today, but now he wondered if weekend sessions were even needed.
Bold prediction: free period kids topping the finals.
Feeling chill now, Tae-il laced his hands behind his head and asked,
"When'd you say you gotta head back today?"
"What, got what you need and wanna kick me out already?"
"Nah, you said you were busy today too..."
Tae-il looked troubled at her playful jab.
Sakuya had pushed for weekend starts, then freaked him out about time running short.
She'd meant it out of worry, but Tae-il knew her well enough to see it as trolling.
"All your fault, Taichi. Didn't know you studied this well."
"Told you—I was headed for better deviation scores. And I scrape 70s average slacking. That's top 30% here."
Separate from school choice, he still took pride in those middling scores.
They'd tank in honors track, but that flimsy ego looked adorable to Sakuya.
"Haha, sure sure. Taichi's amazing."
"Feels weird when you say it."
"You Koreans use it all the time, right?"
"Yeah, between Koreans. You saying it? Weird."
Sakuya had started teasing him with his own Korean-flavored Japanese slips.
"Language nuances are wild, huh?"
"Tell me about it. Thanks for nailing why my lit scores suck, Sakuraba-sensei."
"Ahaha!"
Sakuya wiped a tear from laughing too hard.
"Anyway, gotta head out soon... but as long as I'm at the gym by 8pm, it's fine. Plenty of time."
"Gym? Where'd you say it was..."
Tae-il searched nearby gyms on his phone.
Only one close by.
"Found it. Twenty-minute walk. Farther than I thought."
"Run it—barely ten."
"Your idea of 'that distance' scares me."
Sakuya's stamina was beyond Tae-il's comprehension.
Whatever.
She grinned mischievously at him.
"Dinner's on you tonight, right, Taichi?"
"Yeah, but... didn't you have a meal plan?"
"Cheat day today."
Obvious lie, but Tae-il let it slide.
She held the power here.
"Fair warning: around here, it's cheap family restaurants or ramen joints."
"Doesn't matter. I like ramen."
"Huh. Athletes cool with high-cal stuff, I guess."
"Why? Your childhood friend not?"
I'd eat ramen with you, but she won't?
That was the subtext.
"Ayane's... yeah."
"Picky eater?"
"Nah. Just sensitive to calories."
Girls in general.
Fat's easy to gain, hard to lose.
Stuff your face happy, then fret over pounds—that's girls. Sakuya thinking "exercise it off" made her the exception.
"She's pretty enough to gain a bit and still look fine. Dunno why she stresses. Her self-esteem's too low..."
"..."
"Why'd you go quiet again?"
"...Quiet? Me? Never quiet. Loud as hell, right?"
Tae-il blinked in confusion.
Sakuya flushed, embarrassed at her outburst, words tumbling faster.
"A-anyway! Ramen for dinner? Settled?"
"Was gonna let you pick..."
"Ramen! Craving it now!"
"Fine, whatever."
"Ramen tonight!"
Dinner decided in a flash.
Short break, then homework to wrap today's quota.
Tae-il sighed at his densely packed notes.
"Looking at it now, tons to memorize. And it's not even rote subjects."
Would it all fit in his head? Doubtful.
Common sense to Japanese kids, but for him, cram-for-need, forget, repeat from scratch.
Elementary: learn, forget. Middle: learn, forget. High school: same, wipe after exams.
Lit stuck vaguely. Geography and history? Blink and gone.
Inefficient brain, he thought, pressing his pencil tip to his temples.
"Tough... so tough..."
"That's 'cause you've skipped so much class."
"Tch."
Sakuya was piercing his weak spots today. Felt like holes punched in his chest.
Tae-il skimmed his notes and closed them.
"Okay. Got it all. Study group's done for today?"
"Can't do more—I didn't bring other notes. This was last-minute."
"Yeah. Not coming tomorrow, right?"
"Wanna, but can't. Interhigh prep. Tomorrow's a beast."
"Oh?"
"You look happy?"
"Course I am. Who wouldn't be?"
Rare chance to counter.
Tae-il smirked at Sakuya's souring face.
"For a guy high schooler, alone in his room with a girl? Torture."
"That's what it was?"
Meaning she was a burden—i.e., pretty, attractive.
Sakuya's brief annoyance melted away.
Tae-il tidied the scattered notes and scrap paper.
"Bit early, but... eat now? Or chill first?"
"Chill first."
Tae-il nodded, grabbed the empty tray, and stepped out.
Handle business, grab water too.
Sakuya nodded coolly, checking her phone to play it casual.
And then.
As soon as Tae-il left, she pressed her ear to the door, listening for his footsteps fading.
"Perfect..."
Sakuya smacked her lips with a wicked grin.
"Time to check under a high school boy's bed...?"
Bucket list item.
Snoop a guy's room. Privacy invasion? If she became his girlfriend, problem solved.
Dumping the guilt on future-her, Sakuya giggled and lifted the bed skirt.
But it betrayed her hopes: spotless, no dust.
"Nothing?"
No time to clean on short notice.
Proof he kept it tidy always.
No disappointment. Plenty more to search.
Those thick-covered mags and albums? Maybe decoys.
Sakuya rubbed her hands with a villainous chuckle.
Tae-il headed downstairs to ditch the tray and wet his haiku-dried throat.
He fiddled with the notebook tucked safely in his gakuran chest pocket.
Leaving Sakuya alone upstairs worried him a tad, but nothing embarrassing to find, so no biggie.
Most dangerous stuff was on him anyway.
Whistling, he passed the living room toward the kitchen.
Then a shinigami whispered to him.
"Shin-jjang! Finally downstairs?"
"Uh, yeah?!"
Tae-il froze.
Lightning struck his brain.
Soon Beethoven bellowed in a voice he'd never heard.
Bababa-boom!
Goosebumps exploded over his skin.
Startled, he nearly dropped the tray.
"A-Ayane, why're you..."
Here. The word died unspoken.
Ayane sat leisurely at the table, waving with a bright smile.
'Mom's... where?'
He frantically scanned for Yu Hana.
Glancing back, there she was on the living room sofa, elegantly sipping coffee.
Eye contact made her mug-holding hand jolt.
Feigning calm, but coffee spilling into the saucer screamed surprise.
'Sorry.'
Her eyes apologized.
For not warning him Ayane was here.
Tae-il's pupils shook like an earthquake.