Chapter 15 – “Jealousy is a Terrible Tutor”

The study session started normally enough.

Well, normal for Yuuto Kanda meant Rika taking notes like a scientist dissecting aliens, Mizuki quietly doodling hearts in the margins of her poems, and Akari humming cheerfully while balancing a pencil on her nose.

For once, Yuuto thought things might stay peaceful.

He was wrong.

“Yuuto!” Akari chirped suddenly, hopping up from her chair. “You look tense. You need a hug!”

He flinched. “Wait—Akari, don’t—!”

But she was already there, wrapping her arms around him from behind like an affectionate tornado. “There! Stress relief! My coach says physical warmth improves focus!”

Rika’s pen snapped. Literally snapped.

Her eye twitched. “Focus? Focus? You think smothering your tutor mid-equation improves data comprehension!?”

Akari blinked innocently. “Uh… maybe? He looks relaxed!”

Yuuto looked anything but relaxed. His face was so red it could’ve powered a nuclear reactor. “A-Akari! Let go before Rika—”

Too late.

Rika slammed her notebook on the desk with a bang. “Unacceptable! This is a sacred academic environment, not your personal cuddle laboratory!”

Akari gasped dramatically. “Hey! It’s not my fault you don’t know how to hug!”

“I know how to hug! I just have better priorities!” Rika shot back, pointing her pen like a sword.

“Like glaring at us every five seconds?”

“That’s called supervision!”

Mizuki, who had been quietly watching the storm unfold, finally spoke up—soft, but trembling. “C-can you both stop? You’re scaring Kanda-kun.”

Akari blinked at her. “Mizuki-chan? You okay?”

The shy girl tightened her grip on her notebook. “He’s been helping us all this time… you shouldn’t just cling to him like that. It’s—unfair.”

Rika raised an eyebrow. “Unfair?”

Mizuki’s face went bright red. “I-I mean—h-he’s working so hard! We should… respect his boundaries!”

Akari smirked playfully. “Ohhh, someone’s jealous too?”

Mizuki flailed, waving her notebook. “I-I’m not jealous! I’m just—just—!”

“Jealous,” Rika said flatly, folding her arms.

That did it.

Mizuki’s eyes welled up. “At least I don’t act like he’s a lab rat! You’re always staring at him like he’s part of some experiment!”

Rika froze. “Excuse me?”

Yuuto stood up, panicking. “Hey, hey, let’s calm down—”

But the volume only rose.

“At least I don’t faint every time someone looks at me!” Rika snapped. “Maybe if you spent less time daydreaming, you’d understand math!”

“At least I don’t treat emotions like equations!” Mizuki shot back, tears glimmering in her eyes.

Akari looked between them, uncertain now. “Uh… guys?”

Yuuto stepped forward, hands raised. “Okay, everyone, let’s take a deep—”

Thunk!

Something small and fast whizzed through the air—an eraser, flung by Akari to “break the tension.” It hit Yuuto square in the forehead.

He froze. Then slowly, dramatically, fell backward into his chair.

The room went silent.

Mizuki gasped. “Kanda-kun!”

Rika’s anger evaporated. “I—I didn’t—did she—?”

Akari winced. “Uh-oh. Direct hit.”

Just as the chaos peaked, the door slid open with a casual click.

Sensei Amamiya stepped in, coffee in one hand, smartphone in the other. She surveyed the battlefield—papers scattered, faces red, Yuuto unconscious in his chair.

She sipped her drink. “So this,” she said calmly, “is what ‘love triangles’ look like in math class.”

Everyone froze.

“W-we’re not—!” Mizuki stammered.

Amamiya tilted her head, smirking. “Oh? Then what exactly is going on here?”

“Team bonding?” Akari offered weakly.

“Emotional implosion,” Rika muttered.

Amamiya chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. “Relax, I’m not judging. Just remember—jealousy isn’t on the syllabus, but apparently, it’s great for student engagement.”

“Sensei…” Yuuto groaned, rubbing his forehead. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m motivating.” She winked. “Carry on, Romeo.”

And with that, she left—laughing all the way down the hall.

The group sat in awkward silence. Akari fidgeted, Mizuki stared at her lap, and Rika refused to make eye contact with anyone.

Finally, Rika stood, gathering her things in stiff silence. “I need air.”

“Rika, wait—” Yuuto started, but she was already halfway to the door.

She paused only once—just before stepping out—and said quietly, “I’m… sorry for the disturbance.”

Then she left.

The door shut behind her with a soft click.

Mizuki sighed. “I didn’t mean to yell…”

Akari’s usual grin faltered. “Me neither. I just wanted to cheer everyone up.”

Yuuto ran a hand through his hair, guilt twisting in his chest. “No, it’s my fault. I should’ve set boundaries earlier… I didn’t realize how tense things were getting.”

Akari pouted. “You’re not mad at us, right?”

“Of course not.”

Mizuki’s eyes softened. “You really are too kind, Kanda-kun.”

He gave a small, tired smile. “Kind, or just clueless.”

They all chuckled weakly, but the laughter didn’t erase the lingering awkwardness.

Outside, as the sun began to set, Yuuto found himself staring at Rika’s empty chair.

The faint scent of her perfume still hung in the air, mixed with the soft fragrance of Mizuki’s notebook paper and Akari’s citrus shampoo.

For the first time, he noticed how different each of them felt to him—how each moment, each accident, had started to mean something deeper.

Rika’s sharp intelligence. Mizuki’s quiet warmth. Akari’s boundless energy.

He cared for all of them—and that realization scared him more than any exam ever could.

That evening, as he walked home, his phone buzzed.

A message from Rika:

> “Sorry. I overreacted. I’ll bring new notes tomorrow. Thank you for being patient… Yuuto.”

He froze. She used my first name again.

His heart skipped. He didn’t know what to reply, so he just typed back:

> “It’s okay. See you tomorrow.”

He stared at the screen for a long time, then smiled faintly.

Jealousy was, indeed, a terrible tutor—

but it had just taught them all something very real about the messiness of affection.