Chapter 3: Literature vs. Science

Yuuto Kanda wiped the sweat from his brow and tried to gather his thoughts. The first two days tutoring the Genius Trio had already felt like running a marathon while juggling flaming textbooks. And today promised no relief.

He entered the study room to find Rika Hanabira perched on a chair like a hawk, glaring at a thick literature book. Mizuki Onodera sat nearby, fidgeting nervously, while Akari Shinozuka was bouncing in place, balancing a ruler on her finger.

Yuuto sighed. “Alright, everyone… let’s try a calm session today. No—”

But calm was a foreign concept here.

Rika slammed the book down with a thwack. “This is absurd!” she exclaimed. “Poetry, prose… it makes no logical sense! Why should I analyze metaphors when atoms obey laws of physics?”

Mizuki squeaked. “B-But Rika-chan… literature expresses feelings… it’s not supposed to be—”

Rika cut her off sharply. “Feelings are irrelevant unless quantifiable! Where is the formula for heartbreak? The equation for joy?” She tapped her pen against the desk, clearly annoyed.

Yuuto pinched his nose. “Rika-san… it’s okay. Literature isn’t science. You don’t need formulas for emotions…”

Akari, of course, had her own idea. “Ooh! Maybe we can experiment!” She grabbed a notebook and started scribbling wildly. “Let’s measure their heartbeats when they read sad poems! That’s science!”

Yuuto froze. “Wait—Akari-san! That’s—uh—maybe not necessary!”

Before he could protest further, Akari leaned over to show him her chart—and in doing so, her ponytail brushed his arm. Yuuto’s face immediately burned red.

Mizuki, noticing his reaction, gasped. “Y-Yuuto-kun… your face! It’s red again!”

“Th-This is nothing!” he stammered, waving his hand. But it was too late. The combination of Akari’s accidental touch and Rika’s sharp glare made his chest race like he’d run ten kilometers.

Rika’s glasses slipped down her nose slightly as she observed Yuuto’s flustered expression. “Incompetent,” she muttered under her breath. But her sharp eyes betrayed a flicker of… curiosity.

Mizuki, meanwhile, had picked up a pencil and was trying to take notes, though she kept glancing at Yuuto nervously. “Um… maybe we can… read a poem together?” she asked softly, holding the book close.

Rika raised an eyebrow. “Together? Don’t waste your time, Onodera. I can read this faster than you can comprehend. Speed is efficiency.”

Yuuto felt trapped between two extremes: Rika’s piercing logic and Mizuki’s timid charm. “I… I think we should—”

But his words were cut off by Akari’s sudden announcement. “Break time! Let’s do jumping jacks while reciting the poem! It’s exercise AND literature combined!”

Before Yuuto could react, she shoved him lightly, and he stumbled into Mizuki’s lap. Both of them froze. His face burned bright red, and Mizuki’s eyes widened in horror.

Rika groaned loudly. “Absolutely impossible. Survival is harder than teaching!”

Yuuto coughed awkwardly. “I-I can handle it! Just… everyone stay still for a moment!”

Akari, oblivious to the tension, bounced on her heels again. “Yuuto-kun! Don’t you want to participate? It’ll help your heart health!”

Mizuki clutched the book to her chest, muttering under her breath, “Why is this happening… again…?”

Yuuto finally sat down heavily, trying to regain composure. “Let’s just… read the poem calmly, okay?”

The poem was simple enough—a few lines about spring and renewal. Mizuki began reading aloud, her soft voice filling the room.

Rika rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop glancing at Yuuto every few seconds. She seemed to be trying to understand why the poem made him blush.

Akari, however, was completely unrestrained. She jumped in rhythm with the syllables, her ponytail whipping across Yuuto’s face multiple times. He flinched, sneezed, and nearly toppled over again.

Mizuki gasped. “Yuuto-kun! Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine!” he stammered, wiping his face. “Really…”

Rika muttered, “I don’t get why he’s flustered… but somehow… it’s… interesting.”

Akari grinned. “See! Poetry makes your heart race! Science proves it!”

Yuuto buried his face in his hands. “This… is torture!”

Sensei Amamiya, leaning against the doorway once more, couldn’t resist. “Ah, Kanda-kun… your first real challenge: literature vs. science vs. pure chaos. And your heart is the test subject.”

Yuuto groaned again. “S-Sensei! I’m not a guinea pig!”

Amamiya smiled faintly, enjoying the scene. “Of course not… but your reactions are delightful to watch.”

Rika rolled her eyes again, but this time there was a faint blush on her cheeks. Mizuki’s grip on the book tightened, and Akari’s ponytail seemed to have a life of its own, smacking Yuuto in the face repeatedly.

By the end of the session, Yuuto was exhausted, flustered, and somehow more attracted to all three girls than ever before. He realized one undeniable truth: tutoring the Genius Trio was going to be the hardest, most embarrassing, and strangely thrilling thing he’d ever done.

And as the girls laughed, bickered, and accidentally entangled themselves in one another—and in him—Yuuto silently promised: he would survive this semester… somehow.