Tea: The Tea Tasted Like Shit

The table was pretty big, eight seats in total: three along either side and one at each end.

Nagisa was already sitting on the far end of the table, palms resting on it.

Oi, if you’re already down here, then that means you’ve called everyone else, right? But I’ve only seen four…

Arata looked towards the opposite end.

Someone was slouched in one of the chairs, wearing an oversized charcoal jacket and a pair of loose black trousers. Their hair was strange. It fell a little past the collar at the back, hung longer around the sides, and sat unevenly enough that several strands draped across their face without them appearing to care. They were looking straight down at the table.

No way…

They have a brother?

The person slowly lifted their head to face Arata.

The resemblance to Homura and the other girl was there, but the rest didn’t quite line up. Their eyes were not the same colour as the others. They were almost… grey? It was hard to tell with the lighting, but they certainly didn’t look brown. They did look tired, though.

“What?”

The voice was lighter than he had expected.

Oh.

Ohhhhhh.

That’s pretty embarrassing.

“You’re staring.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” She went back to staring at the table.

I like her.

Homura sat on the girl’s left, and the other girl sat on the girl’s right.

Can we get their names already? “The other girl sat on the girl’s right.” Wow. Don’t get too descriptive now.

Ibuki came out of the kitchen carrying three steaming cups of tea. Her grip was not convincing, and neither was the expression on her face.

“J-Just a moment, everyone!”

She was taking each step at a turtle’s pace. Her gaze was fixed on the cups, as if that would help them stay upright.

There was absolutely no need to take that risk. What are you doing? Do I help her?

Arata scanned the room.

…No one? Really? Do you all just hate each other?

He walked over to Ibuki and held his hands out for the lone cup in her left hand.

This really doesn’t do much, actually. The strain would be on her right hand since she’s holding two cups there, but she’s not in a position to hand me either of them because her other hand is occupied. Attempting to do so would most likely lead to at least some spillage in the best-case scenario, and in the worst-case scenario, she’d drop all three cups. Going for the cup in her left hand is the superior option.

Ibuki looked up at him. Her mouth had begun wobbling, and her eyes seemed suspiciously glossy.

You can’t be serious.

Arata “gently” took the cup out of her hand before she did something stupid, turned back, and put it on the table.

That cup is steaming.

Yeah. I said that.

“Thank you… K-Ku…”

Arata turned back and reached for one of the cups in her right hand.

Ibuki immediately pulled them closer to herself. The sudden jerk sent a tiny splash of tea onto her white shirt.

“Ow—! N-No, I’m okay! I have it under control!” She sucked a sharp breath through her teeth and pinched the damp fabric away from her skin with her now free hand, still refusing to surrender either cup. Another drop of tea fell onto the ground.

You do not.

“Really, it’s fine! I can manage!” She was smiling now.

He sighed before taking a step back and letting her eventually place both cups on the table. She walked over and took a seat on Nagisa’s left.

“Ah!”

She then got up again, having realised that there were still two cups on the counter that needed to be dealt with.

…

Ibuki came out of the kitchen carrying three steaming cups of tea.

Huh, déjà vu. Hey, I said I didn’t want any tea! Did you not—

Arata’s mouth dropped open.

YOU’RE DOING IT AGAIN?

He stomped over and, not so gently, took the cup out of her left hand with his left.

“Hey—!” She reached out for the cup.

I don’t like you.

He turned back and put it on the table.

He did not offer to take one of the cups from her right hand, for he had experienced enough déjà vu for one day. She did not offer her thanks this time. Rude.

Ibuki set both cups on the table safely, though she did not look in the best of moods. She took her seat again.

Arata stood still.

There were three sitting on the far left end of the table, and two sitting on the far right.

Is there a curse on the middle seats or what?

“Sit down, tutor.” You already know who said that.

Three seats remained empty.

I’m not sitting next to Homura, no chance.

Two seats remained empty. One was next to Ibuki and the other girl, whose name we still do not know. The other seat was next to Nagisa and across from Ibuki.

Welp. I already know what kind of weirdos those two are.

He walked past Nagisa and took his seat. Homura’s glare followed him the whole way.

…

There were six cups of tea on their side of the table.

“Are we getting tea or not?” Homura said.

“Oh. Forgive me.” Ibuki got up from her seat once more to pass three cups over to the other end. The only “thank you” came from the shy girl.

“So,” Ibuki said, back in her seat. “I suppose we should introduce ourselves properly before we get to discussing this arrangement of ours.”

It’s about time.

“He doesn’t need to know who we are,” Homura objected.

“Mumu…” Nagisa leaned forward and rested her head on the table.

“What?” Homura turned to her.

“Shut up, please.”

…

Ibuki cleared her throat and shifted to face the girl on her left. “Sister Mizuki, if you may, introduce yourself.”

“O-Oh, yes… I am Mizuki.” She tried to smile again, but it slowly faded as soon as her eyes met his.

Ibuki turned. “And Sister Kasumi?”

She ended her table-staring session and looked up at Ibuki first, then slowly moved her gaze to Arata.

“Yo.” She raised two fingers.

I like you.

“Is… is that all? You could say a bit more, Sister Kasumi.”

“It’s alright.” Arata waved a hand.

Ibuki turned back to him. “Anyway… the school did not give us many details about how you intended to teach us, so… how are you going to proceed?”

Arata took a sip of the tea.

Eugh.

“Well… I’d need to see all of your results first. Tests, quizzes, assignments, anything you’ve got. Then, I’d have a look at them and see… what you’re… what you’re good at, what you’re bad at, whatever patterns or… Anything.”

Arata looked at each of their faces.

That was really bad.

“Uh-huh. I see.” Ibuki’s nod was not particularly encouraging.

“Why do you need all of that?” Homura “asked.”

“How else am I supposed to identify the underlying cause of each person’s results and tailor an effective methodology to all five of you individually?” He leaned back in his chair.

…

That’s more like it.

“He wants to know why we’re dumb.” Kasumi stared into the ceiling this time.

Arata raised his finger. “Actually, I don’t think grades are the best way to measure intelligence. A lot of it comes down to memorisation, actual interest in the subject, and your willingness to put in a decent amount of effort. I wouldn’t call anyone dumb just because they weren’t doing well academically.”

He looked around the table. “But I still want to know why you’re all failing.”

They were all looking at him now. Except Kasumi, but that goes without saying.

“Come on now, pull 'em out.” He took a pen from his pocket.

Shit, my bag’s in the living room.

“Ah—tutor! T-Tutor-san!” Ibuki raised her hand.

Arata stared at her.

“You don’t need to raise your hand but… okay, yeah, whatever. Speak.”

“I-I gathered most of our recent results a few days ago!” Her hand remained in the air.

“Okay. You can put it down now.”

“Oh.” She lowered it and placed both hands on her lap. “They’re in a cabinet in the living room. I collected every test and assignment I could find.”

“Then bring them here.” He crossed his arms and leaned back further.

She stood up and walked to the living room a little slower than usual.

After a minute or so, she returned with a stack of folders and placed them neatly next to Arata. “Here they are.”

He spread them out.

“Why are there only four of them?” He lifted his eyes back to hers.

“Uhm…” Ibuki’s eyes stayed locked on his this time. “Sister Kasumi does not—Her results are not… within her possession at this current moment. A-And—”

“Oi, stop talking like that. It’s weird.”

Ibuki’s mouth stayed open.

“Kosmi, where are your results?” He turned to her.

Homura stood up and slammed the table. “It’s Kasumi, moron. KASUMI!”

“Kosmi’s fine.” He rubbed his eyes.

“It is not!”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Where are her results?”

Kasumi shrugged.

“Great.” Arata stretched and yawned.

“HEY!! What kind of tutor is this!? He’s an asshole! He’s not even doing anything!”

Three-in-a-row, Homura. You’re on fire.

He looked around the table. Ibuki had completely deflated, Mizuki was hiding behind her cup, and even Kasumi looked annoyed. Nagisa looked like Nagisa.

Shit. Shit shit shit. What am I doing? I’ve already fucked myself over. I can’t do—

Hold on a minute.

“Look at that. One person’s bad attitude took just one minute to negatively affect everyone here.”

Homura sat back down. “What’re you talking abo—”

“Let me finish.”

He stared at the sister straight across from him. “You were so enthusiastic at first, weren’t you?”

Ibuki kept her eyes down.

“Sorry, I just needed to prove a point. But thank you. You’ve been… accommodating.”

Her head snapped back up.

Arata leaned forward onto the table and ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re all shit.”

The room went still.

“I haven’t even looked at your results yet, but yeah. I can see why you’re all failing. The second something goes wrong, the whole room falls apart.”

Mizuki’s grip tightened on the cup.

“Luckily, the solution is simple.”

…

He stood up and picked up the folders from the table.

“The tea tasted like shit. See you tomorrow.” He walked into the living room to get his bag.

“WH-WHAT THE—HEY!! DON’T JUST SAY THAT AND LEAVE!! IDIOT!!” Ibuki jumped up and ran after him.

Fucking hell, how did I manage that?