Act 2, Chapter 8: The Four Horsemen

Black as a void. All nothingness. Nothing could be seen, heard, or said. A shroud of blackened silence cloaked the Dark Lord of Tartarus, engulfing him in the abyss.

"Dark Lord of Tartarus..."

A gentle girl’s voice echoed across the horizon, calling him from the depths. Was this the end? Or a summons to battle?

His mind was spiraling like a carousel.

But…

"Dark Lord of Tartarus!"

Hiroki jolted awake with a gasp like the vast napalm blast. His vision has regained; he witnessed it was Aoi Mizuno’s doing. Her face mere inches from his, her priestess persona unwavering.

"Awaken, O evil one!" She dramatically pointed her hand to Hiroki’s face.

"A-Aoi?!" Blinking, Hiroki felt disoriented by the sudden jolt.

He found himself dozing off at his desk in Classroom 1-A during the biology class session. But now, the students had scattered for lunch. The clock read noon, almost 11 AM, as if his late-night cramming session had disastrously boomeranged on him.

Aoi struck her chuunibyou pose, with one hand dramatically placed on her chest. "Count Junichi Enoshima hath summoned thee to the Grand Library of Knowledge!"

"Shut up!" Hiroki snarled, rubbing his eyes as the post-sleep clinging was like fog. "Let me take a bite first." He grabbed his bento, trudging out with a tinge of frustration evident in his every step. Aoi trailed behind, her laughter echoing in the empty classroom.

***

Hiroki wolfed down his lunch on an empty staircase, but the overnight onigiri with pickled plum tasted like cardboard. Sleep tugged at him, his head heavy from overnight cramming—Junichi’s promise of specific strategies, countless searching of online tutorials, and endless equations.

The remedial trial for tomorrow, Friday, loomed like tomorrow: math, biology, physics, and chemistry—the four horsemen ready to banish him from the LMC.

He knows flunking it for the last time would mean no playing guitar, no LMC, and a shattered dream. A death trap and a losing game, but he’d fight by any means, even if it meant battling against insurmountable odds. Though, he would constantly falter like the punishment of Sisyphus.

Stumbling into the empty library, Hiroki spotted Junichi Enoshima waving enthusiastically. Beside him sat Ren Takahashi, Shiguri’s coach, her calm poise belying her raspy silence.

"Yo, Hiroki! Ready for tomorrow’s remedial?" Junichi grinned.

"Ren-senpai?!" Hiroki’s surprise swiped away his drowsiness. Ren’s presence was unexpected. But deep down inside, she seemed to battle her own demons.

Ren’s TTS app chimed softly. "At first, I want to decline Junichi’s invitation. But because I trusted you, I’ll take care of your difficulty in biology and chemistry."

Junichi thumped his chest. "Math and physics are on me. I’ve heard your class has free time after lunch, right?"

Hiroki slumped into a chair, dumping his bag. "Yeah. Prowler-sensei was away for an important meeting." He pulled out textbooks, midterm sheets, notebooks, and pencils—his arsenal against the judgment of Ouroboros.

Junichi clapped, enthusiasm exploding like a firework. "Lucky! Let’s dig in!"

The trial is now!

Math: The Equation Labyrinth
Junichi slid over a sheet. "Quadratics first. Remember the cheat code: factor like a boss." He sketched: x² + 5x + 6 = (x+2)(x+3). Hiroki’s pencil flew, errors slowly fading under Junichi’s guidance. "You bombed this because you rushed. So always remember: slow down, and reread the question, Shiguri boy." Junichi winked at Hiroki.

Physics: Forces of Fury
"Newton’s Second Law: F=ma," Junichi rapped his knuckles on the table. Diagrams of acceleration and friction—Hiroki’s nemesis cracked open, slowly seeing the light. "Visualize it like strumming a guitar—each tension and release always depends on your strength." Hiroki could only nod at Junichi’s elaboration.

Biology: Cellular Siege
Ren’s TTS guided gently. "Mitosis phases: prophase, metaphase..." Diagrams bloomed on paper, her finger tracing cell division. Hiroki’s weak spot strengthened; Ren’s patience, forged in her battles with cancer, mirrored his academic struggle. "Breathe. One cell at a time." Ren also scribbled on Hiroki’s notebook to give him the obvious glance of what he should do instead.

Chemistry: Molecular Mayhem
"Bonds: ionic vs. covalent," Ren continued, her voice steady via app. Balancing equations—Hiroki’s 43% foe—unraveled. "Think of it as mixing tracks. Balance each frequency, so nothing would clip." Her synesthetic insight turned chaos to harmony.

***

Minutes feel like hours; they have melted away in the Sakuragawa High library, the fluorescent hum a distant drone against Hiroki Yamada’s throbbing temples. Sleep tugged at him, but clarity burned brighter—all thanks to Junichi’s engineering hacks and Ren’s empathetic precision.

They weren’t tutors; they were his anchors, hauling him from the void to get him back into the LMC.

Halfway from the fight, Hiroki stretched his arms; the cracking sound echoed in the empty library. "Oh, my goodness! It feels like a sprint and a marathon at the same time."

Junichi scribbled on the empty paper, grinning. "You’re almost there, Hiroki-kun. Time for the real deal. This time, no books and no phone. Ok?"

Despite the grind, his confidence flickered like a lightbulb—he’d nail tomorrow’s Friday remedial. Or perhaps, that’s what he naively thought.

Ren’s TTS chimed with a chibi GIF on her phone: a determined anime girl flashing "Ganbatte!" Her eyes sparkled with an encouraging smile.

Junichi slid over four stapled sheets as the mockup midterm remedial test. 10 questions per subject, each escalating in difficulty like video game bosses:

Biology – Cellular respiration to DNA replication.

Chemistry – Balancing equations to stoichiometry.

Physics – Kinematics to circuits.

Math – Quadratics to logarithms.

Hiroki flipped pages, squinted his eyes, and felt his heart sinking. Questions twisted beyond their lessons—completely different from what Junichi taught him previously. His mind spun like a carousel gone haywire, each thought blending into a dizzying blur. Yeah… I’ll mess it up before I even scribble it.

"Got the grip?" Junichi asked, a casual grin masking Hiroki’s storm.

Hiroki gripped his pencil, stammering. "I… hope so."

Junichi set a 90-minute timer with a dramatic flourish. "Let the countdown begin!"

Hiroki’s sight locked into the mockup test’s paper, tightly gripping his pencil, and scribbling the formula of each question.

Boss 1: Biology Siege
Prophase diagrams blurred into mitosis cycles. Hiroki scribbled phrases—prophase, metaphase—Ren’s patient voice echoing: "One cell at a time." He nailed some, hopefully.

Boss 2: Chemistry Chaos
Ionic bonds to pH calculations. "Balance it like mixing tracks," Ren’s words guided. Half-baked formulas wobbled but emerged.

Boss 3: Physics Fury
Projectile motion arcs. Junichi's mnemonic "F=ma riff" clicked—despite the shakiness, he remembered the basic physics equation of force equals mass times acceleration, grounding him in the moment.

Boss 4: Math Apocalypse
Logarithms stared back, like ancient alien runes. log₂(8) = ? He has suddenly forgotten what Junichi has taught him. "Holy shit! This is getting out of hand!" Hiroki muttered, panic erupting like the Toba supervolcano. But rushing would ruin his remedial midterm on Friday tomorrow.

"You bombed because you rushed. Slow down, Shiguri boy." Junichi's words reverberated in the air, echoing like a haunting melody.

Breathe. Factor. log₂(8) = 3. Pencil trembled, half-baked answers poured: quadratics factored wrong, exponents flipped. "Screw that! I'll write what I remember!" No time to waste! A leap of faith is his only chance.

"20 minutes left!" Junichi called.

Pressure crushed like peaking drums. His mind fracturing, Hiroki could only scribble furiously. Foolishly hoping that his half-baked formula would pass.