"So why on earth do I have to study English? That makes no sense at all! Totally unreasonable!" Her eyebrows shot up in disbelief.
"Normally, Japanese students study English as a foreign language. And in the center exams, they can even swap it out to learn other language or something else.
But me—the most, most, most traditional of Englishwomen—having to study English as a foreign language and even take exams on it… isn't that ridiculous?!" She slammed the desk, indignant and self-righteous.
"So what then? May I ask what grievances this so-called Englishwoman has against Japan's education system? Or are you planning to start a reform movement?" His tone was calm, accommodating.
"I'm not unreasonable. At the very least, let me choose Japanese as my foreign language exam subject! Because for an English person, Japanese is a foreign language, right?" Still calm, but slyly making a compromise.
"Ah, I see. So what you're saying is: in addition to taking the Japanese language subject like everyone else, you'd also like to replace English with… Japanese. Did I get that right?" He nodded deferentially, like an understanding clerk.
"Exactly! From an educational standpoint and common sense, it's totally reasonable!" she declared proudly, leaving no room for doubt.
"Seems that way," he agreed with a gentle nod.
"Hmph!" She puffed up, triumphant beyond words.
"'Hmph' my foot! If you really are British, shouldn't you be laughing that you get to take English?
Isn't that what every international student dreams of—coasting through their native language for credits while basking in the envy of others?" His eyes widened in disbelief.
"I–I… I just like Japanese culture, okay?!" Her expression flipped, fierce but shaky.
"Right, so because you love Japanese culture, you don't want to study English at all. A symbol of friendship between nations! As the daughter of a diplomat, this is my conviction!" Her voice grew louder, gradually regaining confidence.
"…I just wish you really did love Japanese culture, and not just blame the world because you can't even spell banana correctly." He covered his face in despair.
"Shut up! Who would ever misspell banene? Don't push absurdity to the limit!" She leapt up, slamming the desk, outraged to her core.
"…Don't think your thick accent hides the fact you did just misremember it." He sounded utterly defeated.
"Idiot! You're so annoying! What kind of pervert keeps making a lady repeat a weird word like banene over and over?! Ah—I get it! Kyousuke, you've been tricking me into saying banene!
Hearing me say it excites you so much you want to shut the door, doesn't it? Bet you've already got your phone recording, so tonight you can replay my voice, grinning like a degenerate, and then baniuniu—"
She was getting into the swing of it now, dragging the battlefield back onto familiar ground.
"Hey, hey! Eriri, your pronunciation's getting worse and worse! Cut it out already—we're supposed to be studying. I get it now… to avoid studying, you really will stoop to anything." He finally caught on.
"Shut up! I told you, I'm British! Why should I waste time studying English with you? If anything, I should be studying Japanese! You're the unreasonable one, hentai!" She was genuinely baffled how someone could be this stubborn.
"Alright, alright, I get it. We'll do another thirty minutes of English, then switch to Japanese. Don't forget—your Japanese grades are just as bad. Must be tough avoiding otaku slang on exams, huh?"
"Damn it all! I'm going home!" She clutched her head, ready to bolt.
"Not happening. Aunt Sayuri's at your place today. She'll just lock the doors and keep us both inside. If you fail English again, your dad will be laughed at in front of everyone at the next party. Did you really think I dragged you here for nothing?"
"Ahhhh! Sakura, help me! This hentai keeps making me say bananas and stuff!" she screamed, desperately calling for backup.
"Help, Shou-chan! This—this this guy keeps forcing an Englishwoman to study English! Who even has such a twisted fetish?! You're worse than five liters of cola—an evil beyond compare!" She pointed at him as if accusing the devil himself.
"Help—Momo?! What are you doing here? You agree it's cruel to force a dog to understand human language, right?!" She turned to her last hope, eyes pleading.
"...Woof-woof-woof. (Yes, Eriri, you're absolutely right.)" Momo wagged his tail in solemn solidarity.
That uncanny bond between girl and dog could put every duo, even every group in the world, to shame.
If Eriri ever went on TV claiming she had "exclusive telepathy with Momo," no one in the dorm would bat an eye.
"Ughhh! I don't wanna study!!" Eriri collapsed dramatically, sprawling on the floor, but her ankle was promptly caught before she could escape.
What followed was a whole routine: twin-tail tornado attacks, pouty rolling around, haughty "ojou-sama" commands ordering the commoner to get lost, grand speeches invoking national friendship and cultural pride.
Desperate cries for help, and finally—her last resort—demanding that for every word she memorized, the pervert had to grant her one wish.
This—this was how Sawamura Spencer Eriri, super-beautiful girl, daughter of a diplomat, and purebred English noble, spent her weekend study sessions.
This was the kind of after-school tutoring that only the gods of romance would truly delight in.
————————————————————————
Meanwhile, right now sitting quietly in front of him, diligently working on her practice sheets, was not Eriri but Kato Megumi.
Even when no one was watching, she focused entirely on her studies.
So earnest and well-behaved it made one's heart ache—enough to make any tutor want to embrace her and teach her with the gentlest care.
"…Here, Katou, you don't actually need to draw those auxiliary lines," Hojou Kyousuke pointed out, tapping her workbook.
It was a 3D geometry problem.
The trick to such problems often lay in auxiliary lines: without them, students thought the question was flawed; once found, they mocked the examiners as idiots.
But whether to draw them or not depended entirely on experience.
"Eh? Really? But didn't you draw them on the last test? It looked way easier after you did." Megumi tilted her face up, puzzled.
"It looks similar, but in this case drawing the line actually makes it harder. See? Start thinking from this edge instead…"
He leaned over, pencil in hand, pointing things out on the page.
Across the desk, Megumi tilted her head, following along.
The workbook lay at a perfect right angle between them, and as they both turned toward it, their faces drew closer… until, at the menu stand on the edge of the table, their gazes met—and they realized they were about to bump heads.
They both laughed softly. Then Megumi offered, almost shyly:
"I'll just come sit next to you, Hojou-kun. That way, tutoring will be easier~"
Kyousuke didn't say a word.
His eyes swept quickly across the café.
Every couple there had only taken one side of a booth, leaving the other side empty.
Clearly, the staff were trying to nudge them into a "double date" setup.
"Please."
Kyousuke quickly picked up his bag and jacket.
Megumi took them naturally, placing them on the sofa he'd just vacated, even going so far as to smooth out the black school jacket as if it were second nature.
When she sat down, her every movement was light and graceful.
She carefully gathered the hem of her skirt with both pale hands, knees bending slightly before lowering herself into the seat.
The curve of her hips pressed against the fabric, her thighs just barely touching the leather cushion.
A quick adjustment of her skirt ensured nothing indecent would show.
And just like that, a perfectly ordinary yet impossibly charming girl had taken her seat.
Kyousuke almost felt like downing an entire glass of cola in one gulp.
"What's wrong? Hojou-kun, do you feel like we're sitting too close?" Megumi asked softly.
"No, not at all. Actually, I'd say you're amazing at managing distance."
He shook his head.
It was true—though they were sharing the same sofa, compared to the couples around them, there was still a touch of formality between them.
The distance was just right: close enough to lean in and study the workbook together, but not so close as to feel overly intimate or awkward.
'…Wait. Hold on. What did she mean by that question?'
For a normal teenage boy like him, sitting this close to a pretty girl wasn't something to complain about. And Megumi was far too sharp not to realize that.
So why had she asked? Was she hinting at something more?
"Hojou-kun? What about this one? Without a guideline, how do you solve it?" Megumi's calm voice pulled him back.
A quick glance was enough to catch her fair, delicate profile—so close he could even make out the fine, soft down on her cheek.
Yet there was none of that "hidden meaning" or "loaded implication" one might expect from a heroine in a romance novel.
Only her usual, calm and patient curiosity.
"You're approaching it from the wrong angle," Kyousuke explained, tapping his pencil on the workbook. "You shouldn't start with the angle here…"
Teaching Megumi was second nature to him by now.
His explanations were simple yet thorough, and her progress since their last study session proved just how quickly she picked things up—advancing at a breathtaking pace.
"Ohhh"
"One more step?"
"Couldn't you do it this way?"
"Ah, I see"
"I never would've thought of that"
Her fluffy bob swayed lightly with each nod, her soft voice chiming in from time to time.
Soon, the two of them were completely absorbed in study.
Meanwhile, the couples around them had abandoned their dates altogether.
"…Wait, they're actually here to study?" one guy muttered, genuinely impressed.
"Yeah. What a waste," his girlfriend agreed with a sigh.
"Seriously…" the guy nodded.
But even as he said it, his eyes lingered on Megumi.
At first glance she seemed ordinary, but everything about her—her gentle patience, her subtle attentiveness—lined up perfectly with every man's dream of an ideal wife.
She'd wiped the table the moment she sat down, slid in beside her partner without hesitation, tidied his clothes without being asked… and now she was listening intently to his explanations, responding with such a sweet, earnest voice.
If he were in that guy's place, his heart would've been bursting with happiness.
Wait a sec. Something felt off.
Sure, he thought it was a "waste," but wasn't it strange that his girlfriend was the one saying it? When had she ever been so generous about praising another girl?
The boy froze, suddenly sensing danger.
"Waste? What do you mean by waste?!"
To his horror, the voice came not from him, but from his girlfriend.
"Ha-ha… Chie, I didn't mean it like that!" he stammered, forcing a smile. "I just meant, you know, on a rare date like this, it'd be nice to spend more time talking to your girlfriend."
"Don't you think studying together, helping each other improve—that's the perfect way for a couple to be?" she shot back.
"I-I'll study! Starting right now! Next exam, we'll both make the top twenty!"
"So you're saying dating me is more boring than studying?"
"…" Yeah. Definitely not coming back to this café.
————————————————————————
Outside, in the shrubs by the entrance, a strange sound broke the night—like a kitten trying and failing to muffle its cries.
But it wasn't a stray cat lurking around, waiting for a kind chef to toss it scraps.
It was something else. Someone else.
And if you got close enough, you'd see a small face twisted in anger and frustration.
o(≧口≦)o
Damn it! This is supposed to be tutoring? Tutoring?? TUTORING???
Why are they sitting so close?! Don't tell me you can't tutor someone from six kilometers away using radio transmission!
Eriri's thin lips pressed into a hard line, her sapphire eyes blazing with fury.
A stray cat sneaking around for food? Hardly.
She was here as the Captain of the Anti-Cheater Patrol!
Of course, Eriri hadn't come dressed in her usual stealth gear—the navy overalls, the green track jacket, the brown detective hat.
She wasn't stupid.
She knew just how sharp he was, so today she'd worn something completely unlike her normal self.
Her perfect figure was hidden beneath a brown-and-white baseball jacket.
Her impossibly long, slender legs couldn't be disguised, so she'd thrown on a pair of curve-hugging jeans.
Her golden hair, bright enough to be seen from space, was tucked beneath a green knit cap.
Her crystal-blue eyes were hidden behind sunglasses—limiting her vision, yes, but better that than risk being spotted.
Her pretty teeth ground audibly as she clenched her jaw. The boy standing nearby couldn't help but voice his concern.
"I mean, sure, they do look good together, but… uh, you might want to calm down. If you faint here from jealousy, that'd be even more embarrassing."
"!!!"
Startled, Eriri jerked her head out of the bushes so fast the twigs scratched her cheeks. She cursed under her breath.
She'd been spying—no, observing—so intently that she'd forgotten to control her nearsighted habit of leaning in too close.
She turned sharply. A boy was standing right beside her.
"You can see me?!" Eriri demanded, wide-eyed.
The boy blinked, taken aback.
"…Am I… not supposed to?" he asked cautiously.
Was this some kind of paranormal encounter?
That confirmed it. She'd been exposed.
Eriri lowered her head, scanning herself up and down with a critical eye.
'Ugh, curse my stupid beauty.'
'No matter how much I try to hide it, it still shows through. '
'I covered my golden-ratio figure, hid my artisan-level blonde hair, even masked my gemlike eyes… and it's still not enough?'
Realizing what was going on, Eriri waved her hand half-heartedly, signaling the random bystander to hurry up and leave so he wouldn't get in the way of her mission.
"Ohhh, I get it now—you're spying, aren't you?" the boy exclaimed as if struck by sudden enlightenment.
'Good, you get it. Now hurry up and leave!' Eriri didn't say a word.
As a masked rider of justice, she upheld her professional code—never exposing anything that might reveal her true identity.
Her voice, of course, was the most crucial thing to conceal.
She knew all too well how recognizable it was; even a blind man could hear the pride and confidence in her tone.
"You won't get anywhere like this. If you're gonna tail someone, you need a proper disguise. You're not like Megumi, who naturally blends in like she's transparent."
The boy kept talking, energized by the fact that they were both spying on the same couple.
"Who's tailing! I'm making an arrest here—an arrest, you hear me!"
The blonde girl—better known as the illustrator of certain 'special' doujins—bristled instantly at the word tailing.
"Wait… what did you just say? Did you say Megumi? Kato Megumi!?"
At times like this, the princess's wit and observational skills would suddenly flare up to their maximum.
"Yes, Katou Megumi. But hey, it's the most common surname in Japan plus a super common first name.
I can't be sure the Megumi you're talking about is the same one as mine.
But if you mean the girl who could be standing right in front of a restaurant entrance without anyone noticing, then yeah, that's her."
Katou Keiichi was getting excited—never thought he'd bump into a fellow comrade.
"Hey, hey, are you also here to spy on Megumi and Hojou-sensei's date? Where'd you hear about it? Bet you didn't know this, but the couple's coupon they're using today?
I gave it to Megumi myself! Man, I'd be inside watching with front-row seats if she hadn't warned me she'd get mad. So here I am, stuck hiding outside."
Thanks to Eriri's oversized sunglasses, Keiichi never noticed the steadily darkening aura of the girl beside him.
"So you're one of Megumi's school friends, huh? Unbelievable… that girl! She told her family she wasn't dating Hojou-sensei, but she's already spilling date info to her friends?"
But as he rambled on, Keiichi suddenly realized the girl next to him hadn't said a word in a while.
His voice trailed off, and he frowned in thought—before suddenly crying out:
"I've got it! You… you must be Hojou-sensei's little sister!"
"You're worried about your brother's love life, so you followed him in secret. But when you saw him being all close with another girl, you got jealous!"
At some point, Eriri's pale little hands had clenched into fists, the veins faintly visible beneath her skin.
'Calm down, calm down. I'm a captain of justice, not the dog-beating squad.'
'I can't just throw a heavy punch at every clueless stray mutt on the street.'
'He's just a fool, blinded by that cheating cat… I'm not angry. I'm not angry!'
Eriri grit her teeth so hard they creaked.
"I am NOT his sister! You're the sister! Your whole family are his sisters!!"
Unable to hold back any longer, she roared in fury.
"Eh? That wouldn't be so bad either!" Keiichi replied with a beaming smile.
What kind of person is this!?
Eriri felt a ball of rage choke her chest.
Not wanting to lose face in front of Kato Megumi's relative, she silently swore that certain someone would pay dearly tonight—by serving as her nude model for an entire night.
She already had the sketch's title picked out:
"The Perverted Naked Man of the Pond at April's End."
And she'd make him pose holding Bubble Commander in one hand and Seaweed General in the other!