Volume 4.5 Prologue: This Cute Girl Is A Genius!

Today, the atmosphere in the apartment is much different than usual.

Lively is the understatement. This shouldn't be the case in the face of upcoming final term exams tomorrow. Continuous chatters and banters echoed nonstop, far from what it is supposed to be—a study group.

A study group of six people shouldn't be this loud, right? Punks can beat a metal concert with their screams and arguments.

The room practically shook as Ogawa Airi and Kirisawa Riku jabbed fingers at each other across the table. I never imagined I’d hear “government corruption” come from a gyaru, only for “moral responsibility” to be the counterattack from one of the school’s top athletes.

Tofu the cat lay curled and at peace in the center, unaware that she’s in the middle of a student battlefield.

Meanwhile, on the couch that used to be my bed, Akito and his girlfriend Saori are in a mid-domestic war. She's trying, heroically, to teach him basic physics, and he’s buried himself in an ecchi manga like it’s a holy text. Her frustrated tug nearly tore his uniform in half.

I should’ve known the way Ayase said it, that she invited them, with that innocent smile and a twinkle in her eye, should’ve been a warning sign.

With their voices overlapping in the air, and I just…I can’t focus. It’s like the place is on fire and I’m the only one not sure if I’m supposed to run or stick around to see what happens next.

It's not like I hated it—but my anxiety of failing the exams will kill me.

"Such a hassle..."

I slipped from my seat quietly, like I’m escaping from a scene in one of those movies where the lead character needs a moment of peace to collect their thoughts. The kitchen is quieter, the air fresher, and of course, Ayase is there.

She's still in her school uniform with a white apron over it, carefully putting the big flour batter into the griddle before her. Her rosy scent was the first thing that welcomed me, overlapping any aromas in the kitchen.

"Okonomiyaki?" I asked, leaning in for a better look at the pan. I still held a home economics notebook in one hand.

Her graceful hums paused.

"Yes!" Ayase nodded energetically, turning to me. "It's a special request from Akito-chan and Airi-chan. And they say that okonomiyaki fosters social interaction and connection!"

I gulped. There's something in her tone that makes me reflect on my own social isolation.

"Are you talking about me...by any chance?"

It's true that I'm not very interested in socializing, but I'll do anything just to eat her home-made okonomiyaki.

"Maybe," she simply admitted. "I want Haru-san to experience more human interactions."

I chuckled dryly. "Well, but not this loud. Correct me if I'm wrong—this is far different from what we've used to in this apartment."

Ayase didn’t say anything at first, her attention back on the okonomiyaki crust, but I noticed the way her lips curl up at the corners slightly. She’s probably thinking about how many times we’ve sat and ate in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence.

"Of course, I also love quiet time with you too." Ayase smiled lightly, finally facing me again. "Silence and solitude was your paradise, Haru-san, so I embraced it. Before. It's not like I'm taking that away from you now, but the situation's already changed."

She turned and flipped the okonomiyaki with the grace of someone who’s done this a thousand times. It was easy and flawless for her.

"We both know we're bound to expand our relationships with others...just as how it flourished between us."

I can't help but to keep myself shut. It's not about feeling ashamed or roasted by her, it was due to complete adoration. The picture of her before flashed in my mind, completely submissive and always followed my lead. I’m seeing a different Ayase now—confident, thoughtful and quietly bold. She's now gently pulling me into her pace.

"You sound like a mom scolding her son."

She slowly turned to me, eyes shadowed with mock fury and cheeks puffed. "Moouuuuu~!"

I burst out giggling just by seeing how cute and adorable she was with her bubbly anger. But when she raised her spatula, threatening my life without mercy, I instantly straightened my face to calm down.

"I’ll try to avoid provoking your anger. No matter what." I sobered up.

She lowered the spatula but her soft pout remained.

"Hmmph, don’t worry. I love you too much to actually get angry."

"Eh?"

My heart skipped a beat and a blush crept up on my cheek. I can't believe Ayase had just said that to me with a sincere, almost shy smile, even though it was a surprise attack.

I stared at her, a little stunned, as she turned back to the griddle. But something stirred in me—maybe bravery, maybe mischief.

I reached out, slowly brushing her pink bangs aside, making her turn to me with eyes widened and I landed a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead. When I pulled away, a tiny blush dusted her rosy cheeks—and she blinked a few times in return.

"Was that satisfying, Miss Ayase?" I teased.

And with that, her expression softened and her eyes sparkled, but she turned around instantly. "T-the...okonomiyaki!"

Ayase’s feverish movements betrayed her usual calm—she fumbled with the spatula, and the okonomiyaki was split into half. We shared a mutual laughter and I can’t help but keep glancing at her, even though sometimes stolen, trying to pretend that I am not falling for her deeper than what I had imagined.

I really love her, but I never expected her to pull me this deep into all of her affectionate gestures—all of the things she did, even when I didn't understand before. I never knew a person could care about me this much.

The voices from the living room continued in the background—but my world is filled with all of Ayase.

I just let out a warm smile before helping her finish preparing the pancake.

***

After serving the okonomiyaki into six equal partitions, we huddled around the kotatsu, different subject books slapped next to our faces.

"Damn, the final exams will happen tomorrow yet this is the first time I am opening a book." Ogawa-san sighed, almost surrendering immediately. She glanced at the physics book with a perplexed expression as if it was some kind of alien artifact.

I turned my head just to see Riku-san staring at the title page of the algebra handbook she stole from my little bookshelf, with her brow furrowed like it personally offended her.

“What is this...?” she muttered. “How is any of this supposed to help me spike a volleyball?”

Ayase gracefully slipped into the space next to her, a stack of notebooks in her hands. “Actually, it can help, Riku-san.” she said with that bright, teacher-mode smile. “Think about it—algebra can help you calculate angles, force, and trajectory. Imagine your spike as a perfect parabola. The steeper the curve, the less time opponents have to react.”

Riku blinked, just as confused as I am. “...Parabola?”

“It’s a curve that looks like this,” Ayase explained, drawing the shape in the air with her finger. “Basic projectile motion. You’re practically doing math every time you serve.”

Riku’s expression shifted from confusion to curiosity. “Huh...That actually makes sense. I kind of want to learn now.”

“Here,” Ayase said, handing her a yellow notebook from the top of the stack titled ‘Algebra Reviewer’.

“I already marked the key concepts.” she added. “You’ll see quadratic formulas, factoring tricks, and even simplified problem-solving steps.”

Somehow, Riku-san finally managed to look at algebraic expressions without her face turning stiff. I felt bad for the majority of us being bad on math subjects, but I figured she will be better by now.

"Ayase-chan's penmanship is flawless..."

In contrast, my notes were full of messy scribbles and random diagrams and graphs. But since I'm the one who wrote this, I can definitely understand.

Doctor's handwriting logic.

A little while later, Ogawa-san raised a hand.

“Um, Ayase-kun...I’ve got a question here...” she asked softly.

Ayase walked over and leaned down to look at the physics book open in Ogawa-san’s lap.

“It says something about a quantity that has both direction and magnitude...” Ogawa-san hesitated. “What was that again...earthquake?”

I blinked.

Earthquake? Really?

That was...unexpected. She's Takamine-san’s best friend, and of course I thought she would be great at academics too as a sidekick to the student council president. Hearing her struggle threw me off.

Ayase giggled softly, tapping the book. "If it says direction with magnitude, then it's a vector, Ogawa-san. On the other hand, earthquakes are movement of tectonic plates, either convergently, divergently or transform. It's still physics though, but that is in other chapters."

The golden haired gyaru let out a sheepish laugh and jotted it down while Ayase passed her a tidy Physics Reviewer. Another color-coded masterpiece.

As I finished reviewing my maths, I picked up social studies next. Beside it, the thick history book dreaded closer.

That’s when it happened.

“OHHHHHHHHH! HE’S THE REAL VILLAIN?!”

Akito’s voice cut through the room like a siren. We all jolted, our concentration shaken. He was holding a grammar notebook…but a manga was definitely tucked inside.

“Akito,” Saori said flatly, deadpan as ever.

"I'm sorry...I just got too excited."

But he earned himself an inescapable glare from his girlfriend.

"Should I confiscate your manga?"

Akito blinked, then snapped the manga close, then tucking it inside his bag.

"No ma'am, I'll study hard." he sobered up.

“Good." Saori huffed. "If you pass the exams, I’ll personally bake you chocolate chip cookies.”

Akito sat up straighter than I’d ever seen him. “I suddenly feel motivated.”

I wanted to laugh, but the thoughts of the exam pushed it back.

The okonomiyaki chunk held firm on my fork, and as I took it in—the flavors exploded in my mouth.

Ayase's cooking skills never changed. And it's steadily improving. It’s much like a contender to Akio-san to my honesty, or was it just because I rarely ate anything besides her masterpieces?

Speaking of her, she sank to the space next to me, too close that our shoulders constantly brushed. Her warmth crept through the fabric of my shirt, grounding me more than I’d admit.

Then she leaned closer, her head resting on my shoulder. We may have done things more than the wholesome moments you can always see in novels and mangas but she never failed to make me blush like a lonely prince in love with a maiden he randomly saved when the kingdom was about to crumble.

In her hands was a science reviewer—and she was squinting slightly on focus. I nearly failed to stifle a giggle.

She probably knows beyond what is written in the textbook, and that makes it more hilarious.

“Are you really…’studying’?” the words slipped from my tongue before I knew it. “You probably already knew most of this information anyway.”

She turned to me, her voice low but warm. "I just don't want to mess up again just like we did on Kamizaki-sensei's surprise quiz before. It still bugs me."

That makes sense. I was caught in surprise too when she realized that it was an impromptu mistake. Even the masterful creations of an artist can sometimes be flawed.

I ruffled her pink hair gently.

"It's not like it would put my future in a compromise. After all, grammar is one of my strengths."

"Yes, in foreign language.” she agreed. “But you're terrible at Kanji.”

I froze.

How the hell did she know that?

Could she really just sense weaknesses through my soul? Or had she secretly been monitoring my test scores like a school guardian angel?

More realistically...she’d probably just seen my notebook disasters when she arranged my belongings. That's not a Sentinel power.

That's how much she cares about me.

"Should I teach you about kanji, Haru-san?" she offered as she flipped pages.

I sighed, glancing at the thick stack of untouched history notes beside me. My brain already felt like it was leaking out of my ears.

“Actually...just teach me some history instead.” I mumbled.

She smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear—the small, quiet gesture she always did when she was about to get serious.

“Alright then,” she said. “Let’s start with the Meiji Restoration.”

As she began to explain, her voice took on a rhythm—soft, patient and comforting. The kind that made you want to listen, even if you didn’t really care about treaties or emperors.

The room was still loud—Ogawa-san asking questions, Riku-san arguing with Akito over eras, Saori quietly correcting their mistakes—and they all look like just those emperors seated in their thrones and jabbing katanas, not fingers, onto each other.

And me? I guess I was just a wandering ronin—no land, no lord, just drifting between their noise, trying to find some meaning in their wars of words.

Now Ayase, the lost maiden, with her soft voice and warm shoulder against mine—I was half-listening, half-falling.

Not just into history.

But into her.

And if life ever threw me the most complicated question about love—these textbooks wouldn’t have the answer.

Because the answer was already beside me.

Wrapped in soft pink hair, warm smiles, and the quiet understanding only she could give.