Math Makes Brain Hort

The quiet girl closed her book with a sharp snap. "With all due respect Fujita-sensei, can you even teach? You're just a homeroom teacher."

Fujita-sensei took another long sip of coffee. "Ah, you caught me. Just wanted to say what real teachers get to say for once."

"For once?" Kurumi tilted her head.

"Always wanted to teach English. But the principal's nephew got the job. So here I am, forever a homeroom teacher. Cut me some slack?"

Little Shit chirped sympathetically from my back. Or maybe he was just hungry again.

"Is there anyone left who can actually teach us?"

The question hung in the air like stale smoke. I glanced around the half-empty classroom, already knowing the answer. The scattered students shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

The quiet girl slammed her book shut and stood up. "This is pointless. I'm better off studying at home."

I watched her march toward the door, textbook clutched to her chest. Part of me envied her conviction - at least she had a choice. Gran Gran would murder me if I tried skipping school.

"Hold on Toukawa-san. Let's talk about this."

"Talk about what? You can't possibly teach all the subjects yourself. Why are you still here?"

Fujita-sensei didn't answer right away. He just looked at Toukawa-san with those tired eyes that somehow saw everything. "Because I care about my students."

"Care? You're just collecting a paycheck."

Fujita-sensei sighed, shaking his head. “If I was in it for the money, I would've left ages ago.” He leaned forward slightly. “I've watched you all grow these past three years. You really think I'd just walk away now?”

"Then what's the point of any of us being here?"

"Gran Gran would kill me if I stopped coming," I mumbled, not meaning to speak out loud. Little Shit squeaked in agreement.

"Same," another classmate chimed in. "Parents said I can't bail school just because the world is ending."

"I wanted to see the baby kaiju!" someone else called out.

Little Shit perked up at that, and I felt his tail wag against my back.

Kurumi raised her hand enthusiastically. "I come because my friends are here!"

I rolled my eyes at her typical response but couldn't help noticing how Toukawa-san's shoulders tensed at the word "friends." Her knuckles were white around her bag strap.

"Look," Fujita-sensei said, "maybe I can't teach all of you. But I can make sure you have somewhere to go. Someone watching out for you while the world..." He gestured vaguely at the window, where a distant kaiju cry echoed. "While things are complicated."

I stared at Fujita-sensei. The way he talked about watching out for us - it reminded me of Dad's worried calls, checking if I was safe despite being seas apart.

Toukawa-san wasn't having any of it though. Her face was set in stone as she reached for the classroom door. But before her fingers could touch the handle, a sharp screech of chair legs against floor made us all jump.

Sae had stood up.

"I'll teach." Her voice carried the same authority she'd used when first introducing herself at my apartment.

Wait, what? Since when was Sae qualified to-

"Advanced calculus, classical literature, world history - I can handle it all."

"Prove it then." Toukawa-san's challenge rang out clear and sharp.

I glanced between them, my mind spinning. First, the ancient kaiju ritual. Then, the calming belly rubs. And now this? Just who was this woman?

I watched as Sae moved from desk to desk, her posture softening as she leaned over to explain concepts to each student. The whole scene felt surreal - a military official teaching differential equations one minute and classical literature the next.

Fujita-sensei kicked back in his chair, coffee can balanced on his knee. He caught my eye and gave a lazy "works for me" shrug.

When Sae reached Toukawa-san's desk, I expected another standoff. Instead, Toukawa-san actually... engaged? Her usual stone-faced expression cracked as she pointed to something in her textbook. Sae nodded, sketching out what looked like a complex diagram. Their quiet discussion carried the intensity of two generals planning a campaign.

Then came Kurumi's turn. Oh boy.

I had to bite back a laugh as my best friend turned fifty shades of red the moment Sae leaned over her desk. Poor Kurumi could barely string two words together, much less solve the equation Sae was explaining.

Finally, Sae reached my desk.

"Show me where you're stuck," Sae said, her voice surprisingly gentle.

I stared at the calculus problem, the numbers and letters already blurring together. Why did math have to be so complicated? Give me a simple cash register any day.

"Why bother?" I muttered, tapping my pencil against the desk. "Aren't you supposed to be monitoring us, not teaching calculus?"

She paused, her hand hovering over the textbook. For a moment, the classroom's background noise faded away, and I caught a glimpse of something distant in her eyes.

"In another life, maybe I'd have ended up somewhere else… like a classroom." She traced the equation with her finger. "Funny how life takes us places we never planned for."

I thought about my own plans - how I'd mapped out my future around moving to Tokyo, only to end up babysitting a baby kaiju. Maybe Sae and I weren't so different after all.

"Now, show me how to calculate-" Sae started, but was cut off by a sound that could've rivaled a kaiju's roar.

GRRRRROWL.

"Sorry!" She clutched her stomach. "I totally forgot breakfast!"

Little Shit's own stomach joined the chorus. Now I had two hungry creatures to worry about.

I glanced at my phone - 12:15. Lunch time. Except...

"Is the cafeteria even open?" I asked.

Fujita-sensei scratched his head. "Cafeteria's been closed since the staff left. Unless anyone packed lunch..."

"We could raid the cafeteria!" Kurumi jumped up, her eyes sparkling with that dangerous gleam I knew too well. "I can cook something amazing for everyone!"

My stomach twisted. Last time Kurumi cooked, the result was an unholy fusion of curry and chocolate that defied the laws of physics.

But before I could object, a wave of agreement rippled through our class. Even Toukawa-san gave a small nod.

"Well..." Fujita-sensei set down his coffee can. "Might as well put those home ec skills to use." He stood up, stretching like a cat after a nap. "Come on, kids. Let's see what's left in there."

I stayed glued to my seat. No way was I letting Kurumi anywhere near my digestive system today. I'd rather eat Little Shit's leftover melon bread crumbs.

"Not coming?" Sae asked, pausing by my desk.

"I choose life."

She raised an eyebrow. "Scared of a little adventure?"

"More like scared of food poisoning."

"Then how about we cook instead?"

Little Shit squeaked excitedly and headbutted my shoulder.

I sighed, gathering my stuff. "Fine. But if I die from the food, I'm haunting you first."

Sae nodded solemnly. "Acceptable terms."

We caught up with the others in the hallway. Kurumi's enthusiastic "Nya-hello!" mixed with Fujita-sensei's deadpan comments about food safety. Even Toukawa-san had stuck around, though she kept a safe distance from Kurumi's animated gestures.

It felt weird, walking these abandoned corridors that used to buzz with students. But somehow, 4-B's chatter filled the space perfectly - not too loud, not too quiet. Just right.

Like maybe this was exactly where we were supposed to be.