So it turns out… the only people who finish their exams this early aren't just those who want to sleep, but also actual geniuses who genuinely completed every question—and got a perfect score.
Katou Megumi thought this calmly to herself.
She didn't even bother looking at the screen anymore.
Yukinoshita's stunned expression told her everything she needed to know.
Compared to earlier—when Hojou had instantly rattled off the answers after just glancing at the exam—his pace this time was practically slow.
He had actually taken a whole two minutes to read through it.
Always serene, Megumi somehow managed to rationalize this inhuman feat with incredible speed:
Of course. It's Hojou Kyousuke.
With him, anything's possible.
She thought this with a small flicker of secret delight in her heart.
A genius like that was going to be her after-school tutor?
Wasn't this the kind of treatment reserved for the heroine?
Yukinoshita, on the other hand, was far from calm.
She had always trusted her insight and intellect completely—so she had to double-check the answers again, just in case she'd made a mistake.
But no.
All correct.
A flawless, perfect score.
She had just finished reading the passage and hadn't even started the first question… yet Hojou Kyousuke had already breezed through everything like it was a prank.
This guy… is he even human?
Not long ago, she had been confidently advocating the need to accept the legitimacy of gaps between people.
But now, standing in front of such a gaping chasm herself, even Yukinoshita Yukino couldn't help but feel a bit lost.
Kyousuke, meanwhile, took in both of their reactions with amusement.
This— he thought proudly, —is the result of all my years of effort.
Even before he received Miki's gift, he had been diligently working to shore up his weaknesses in the liberal arts.
After receiving that mysterious "gift," his efforts had only intensified.
Some say cheats are unfair—but what's worse is someone who has a cheat… and still works harder than everyone else.
Completely unbeatable.
Kyousuke's version of "slacking off" was simple: if there was no way forward, he wouldn't fight it.
But the moment a shortcut appeared, he'd seize it and charge ahead without hesitation.
"So? Can we finally begin the tutoring session now?" He smiled, voice as cheerful as always.
Of course, in Yukinoshita Translator™, this became: "Well? Still doubt my qualifications to be a tutor?"
Yukinoshita pressed her lips together.
In her mind, a teacher and student formed a single unit—a team.
Just because the teacher was brilliant didn't mean they could teach well.
There were plenty of cases where a skilled teacher, despite top-tier knowledge and technique, simply couldn't get their student to understand.
There were two possible reasons for this:
The teacher overestimated their ability.
The two people simply weren't compatible.
This conclusion was drawn from her own experience.
Yes—compatibility.
Not the technical kind between two circuit boards, but the kind you'd describe as "chemistry."
Like Miura Tomokazu once wrote in his memoir Compatibility:
"I was incredibly lucky to meet Yamaguchi Momoe, someone I felt such a natural connection with, and eventually married."
Yukinoshita accepted Miyamizu Mitsuha's idea that teachers and students form a shared entity—but in doing so, she also had to acknowledge that compatibility was part of the equation.
Maybe she and Hojou Kyousuke just weren't meant to work together.
It's worth noting that this particular book—chronicling Miura's relationship with his wife—played a major role in shaping Yukinoshita Yukino's entire worldview on love.
And though Yukinoshita might stumble in life, she never wavered.
This small defeat? Being outdone by Hojou Kyousuke? It wasn't enough to shake her.
Not even for a second.
Back when she saw someone mastering the Night Dance under Mitsuha's instruction, she didn't hesitate to analyze why her own request had failed.
So this time—this time she would not fail in tutoring Katou Megumi.
Seeing Hojou's smug smile, Yukinoshita smiled back.
"Hojou Kyousuke, you really are strong."
In a pitch-black world, there are only two things that can help you walk a straight line:
A shining lighthouse… or a rival always one step ahead.
"Come. Since you said your worst subject is math, we'll start there. It's actually the simplest and most intuitive of all subjects."
Yukinoshita spoke with full confidence.
After all, she had just been tutored by Hojou herself and had made significant progress.
Sure, she'd technically lost.
But compared to the Yukinoshita from a week ago, she had gotten stronger.
"A-ah, right!"
Katou Megumi looked genuinely surprised.
She thought that after being humiliated so many times in a single afternoon, Yukinoshita would need at least a few days to recover.
As expected from a justice superhero… amazing.
Megumi stood up, ready to grab her bag and pull out her workbook—but suddenly froze mid-motion.
She returned to her spot, knees folded into a comfy duck-sit.
Scratching her cheek shyly with her index finger, she said:
"Uhm… well… it's Friday, you know~?"
Her voice was light and cheerful, like nothing had happened at all.
"Yes. Today is Friday," Yukinoshita replied firmly.
Compared to the other two's relaxed postures, her kneeling pose made her look like a warrior from the Suigou School, ready to draw her blade at any moment.
"Ohhh~ that's right~ It's Friday~"
Megumi's tone grew even more cheerful as she looked over at Hojou Kyousuke, her neat black bob swaying with her subtle head tilt.
"Yes. It's Friday." Yukinoshita frowned, clearly not buying it.
'Hahaha…'
Kyousuke couldn't help but chuckle at the exchange—it felt like watching an NPC dialogue loop from an old-school RPG.
After being Eriri's exclusive translator, he had now become Megumi's facial expression reader.
From that clear, fair face of hers, he read the emotion:
"Quietly flustered, but trying not to be rude."
Smiling, he said gently, "It's Friday, after all. Who on earth brings workbooks after school on a Friday? Anyone like that's probably already locked up in a cram school somewhere."
"Mhm!" Megumi nodded happily.
She'd been looking forward to visiting Ruyi Dorm all day—
Even without one of Hojou's gourmet meals, just watching a scary movie together and teasing Eriri would be enough fun.
After seeing Mitsuha's breathtakingly beautiful dance earlier, her heart had reached peak excitement.
She couldn't wait for what the rest of the evening held.
And what happened next really was a first in her life—
Someone as invisible as her was about to become the center of attention, rising like the temperature of boiling water, noticed by everyone.
But… why did a perfectly good weekend suddenly turn into tutoring time?
Sure, they were already in second year.
Sure, planning for the future and attending cram school was a responsible thing to do.
But this was way too sudden!
As if to respond, Yukinoshita—whose bag was already packed full of Hojou handwritten problem-solving notes—was just about to say something when she was cut off.
"Yukinoshita, I assume you have second-year math workbooks on hand?"
"If not, I can go buy some right now."
Kyousuke explained, "That prep school that keeps popping up—Kawaijuku—is pretty much the most prestigious cram school in all of Japan.
Their mock exams are so well-known that their scores have practically become a national standard for assessing academic ability.
You know those 'Tokyo University D-rank' judgments you often see in anime? One of the sources for that is this very mock test."
There was even a Kawaijuku branch campus located right in Mejirodai, just a few hundred meters from the Ruyi Dormitory.
Back when Kyousuke bought this mansion, staff from the cram school had actually come to visit him, offering him a generous reward to appear as a sort of mascot.
But by then, he was already past the days of fighting for half-price bento boxes, and with the pride of a true genius, he turned them down without hesitation.
That said, Kisaki Tetta was still taking classes there.
Even though he was now earning a generous salary from Hojou Kyousuke, he couldn't seem to give up the habit of collecting cram school bonuses—a hobby he'd been indulging in since junior high.
Yukinoshita glanced at the ever-composed Katou Megumi, then turned to look at Hojou Kyousuke.
She decided against asking to borrow study materials from Eriri.
With her sharp intuition, she could already guess the reason Kyousuke hadn't asked Eriri for help—just from the way Eriri was currently watching anime, laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
"No need. I've got it right here," Yukinoshita said coolly.
Her voice was calm and collected, giving no hint of emotion.
She held herself to far higher standards than the average high schooler—treating advanced coursework as a matter of course.
She reached into her bag and pulled out a math workbook.
Two thick books—one black, one white—landed on the table like twin titans.
They were the infamous Focus Gold series, the go-to math bibles for any college-bound Japanese high school student.
Published by Keirinkan, these reference books covered everything from first-year basics to third-year advanced content.
The sheer volume of questions and detailed solutions could intimidate even the most diligent of students.
Even Katou Megumi, who rarely showed emotion, looked uneasy at the sight.
Her toes curled inside her soft white socks as anxiety crept in.
"Let's begin," Yukinoshita said sharply, slapping the books down on the low table.
The bob-cut girl flinched.
"Y-Yes, ma'am!" she replied.
Using the survey Megumi had filled out earlier, Yukinoshita selected a few key problems from the first-year curriculum for her to solve.
To her relief, much like Kyousuke, Megumi's foundation was solid—even if she was the kind of student who never brought her workbooks on vacation.
"She's got a good grasp of the first-year material," Yukinoshita thought to herself.
"Not bad, Katou-san. Your math's actually pretty good," Hojou Kyousuke said with a smile.
"Well~~ I am a student aiming for university, after all," Megumi replied in a mild tone, setting down her pen.
"If this is enough to impress you, it makes me feel like you're treating me like a little kid, Hojou~~"
Then she added with a faint sigh, "Still… being forced to do extra problems like this, completely off-schedule—even a high school girl can feel a little resentful, you know?"
Kyousuke had always been a firm believer in joyful learning.
When he wanted little Sakura to run with him, he tempted her with food instead of scaring her with things like diseased smoker's lungs.
What Yukinoshita didn't realize was that she was only half wrong.
In many ways, Kyousuke was far more compatible with someone like Miyamizu Mitsuha.
That shrine maiden knew his personality inside and out—she understood precisely what kind of bait would get him to cooperate.
He was the type who responded to gentleness, not force.
Having grown up under the Yukinoshita family's "demon drill sergeant" style of education, it was something she couldn't yet grasp.
At Megumi's words, a faint, almost imperceptible smile flickered across her face.
As a child, she hadn't received many rewards from her parents.
There was never any need to bribe her—she was always the well-behaved girl who didn't make trouble.
"Focus," Yukinoshita said curtly, casting a stern glance at Kyousuke.
After confirming Megumi had mastered the first-year content, she picked out problems from this semester's lessons based on the questionnaire.
Staring at the unfamiliar equations on the paper, Megumi blinked hard.
Sadly, no mysterious voice emerged to whisper the answers in her ear.
She was a model Japanese high schooler—never joining any clubs, and like most students, she treated the beginning of a new term as a golden window for slacking off until the first round of tests.
The typical method? Cram everything in two days before the exam, then solidify it after.
That was the usual rhythm.
Naturally, she couldn't solve these problems.
Looking at the messy scribbles on the paper—like someone trying to prove 1+1=2 without any logical steps—Yukinoshita wasn't surprised.
She had already suspected as much when Megumi mentioned she hadn't brought her workbook.
But what did surprise her was the complete serenity on the girl's pale, doll-like face.
There was no frustration, no panic—just a quiet, unreadable calm.
If Yukinoshita had to describe it, the only words that came to mind were "composed" and "peaceful."
As she continued watching, Yukinoshita began to feel a twinge of guilt—as if this was her fault, for giving out problems that were just too difficult on purpose.
'This... this is the kind of student teachers fear most!'
She shifted her legs slightly and moved to sit beside Megumi.
"In high school," she began, "formulas are everything. Whether it's math, physics, or any subject really—if you've memorized the right formulas, you won't fail. Like this problem here…"
She took her pen and carefully wrote down the necessary formulas on a blank sheet of paper, explaining when and why to use each one, and exactly how to apply them.
In the spacious room, the living room on the left echoed with the dramatic sounds of battle from the TV and the laughter of the "kids."
On the right, in the tatami room, Yukinoshita Yukino's cool, rhythmic voice filled the air.
Watching her lean forward slightly, her flawless face focused in concentration, Hojou couldn't help but feel a certain envy.
He wasn't sure how Megumi felt, but if he had a home tutor like this—someone with a soothing voice, who smelled nice, and looked like a dream—he'd be doing everything he could to convince his school to let him study from home.
Having a beautiful private tutor every day… what bliss that would be.
He was lost in that pleasant fantasy when he suddenly received a cry for help.
From beneath the table, a small, delicate hand reached out and tickled his toes.
Startled, he turned to look at Megumi, who still had her usual serious expression, listening intently to Yukinoshita's explanation.
Only now, Yukinoshita's voice had started to rise slightly—something had shifted.
She had just finished demonstrating how to solve a complex coordinate geometry problem, breaking down each step in detail.
Then she handed Megumi a similar one to try on her own.
"It looks so clean and simple… Yukinoshita-san, you're amazing," Megumi said softly, admiration in her eyes.
"Thank you. But all I did was follow the formula and standard steps. That means you can do it too. It'd actually be strange if you couldn't."
Yukinoshita smiled—not out of pride, but from the quiet joy of seeing her student understand.
"…Okay." Megumi nodded and began solving the problem.
Hojou Kyousuke wholeheartedly agreed with Yukinoshita.
The most fascinating thing about the world of science was precisely this: everything followed a logical path.
Formulas were absolute.
As long as you found the right one, no problem was unsolvable.
However…
"Katou-san, that's not how you do it. First, you need to identify the known conditions—actually read the question.
You do know how to read a question, right? You learned that in elementary school, didn't you?"
"If you can't remember the important information, circle it with your pen. It'll save you time later."
"Yes, this problem does use that formula—but not yet. You're jumping the gun. You need to rework the conditions first. If you keep doing it like this, you'll just confuse yourself and won't be able to match the data to the formula."
"No, no, absolutely not. You don't need extra auxiliary lines. That's not what this question is testing. And… why did you even write that formula down?"
Yukinoshita was visibly flustered now—and clearly exhausted.
By the time she finally managed to guide Katou Megumi through the problem, step by step.
She was panting slightly, her cheeks flushed, and the fine strands of hair on her forehead clung to her skin from sweat.
On the scratch paper, Yukinoshita's solution on the left side was as neat and concise as Megumi had said.
Even with a few explanatory notes, it looked elegant. But on the right…
Yukinoshita, is this how you tutor people?
Teaching math and Japanese composition at the same time?
Are you already prepping Megumi for her university entrance essays?
Megumi, clearly overwhelmed by the unexpected intensity of the lesson, looked to Kyousuke for help.
Yukinoshita looked equally lost.
Given Megumi's performance in first-year math, her learning ability clearly wasn't this bad. So what went wrong?
How do I teach her in a way she can understand?
The girl bowed her head, deep in thought.
If only I could borrow a couple extra paws from a cat…
Maybe I should just list out all the possible variations of this type of problem and make her memorize every solution path… she considered briefly.
Thankfully, Megumi didn't hear that idea.
Otherwise, not even the promise of Kyousuke's daily homemade red snapper dinners or a Kagura dance by Mitsuha would be enough to lure her within a kilometer of this place again.
Kyousuke gently tapped Megumi's hand to let her know he understood, then turned his eyes to the black-haired girl deep in thought.
And suddenly, he understood.
Back when Yukinoshita was teaching him how to dance, he'd let his cursed talent blind him to something crucial.
Yukinoshita didn't know how to teach.
Yukinoshita Yukino was a genius.
Kyousuke knew this well.
Though he often outshone her in various areas during their time together, it wasn't because she lacked ability—it was because he had become overwhelmingly powerful.
In their school, Soubu High, if you asked anyone to name a genius besides him, they would, without hesitation, say Yukinoshita Yukino.
Even her abysmal physical endurance—panting like she'd just run 800 meters after explaining a single math problem—was proof of that.
She was so gifted that she could master skills with minimal effort.
Because she mastered things so quickly, she never had to repeat them—and so her physical stamina never improved.
But that same genius made her completely unable to understand how ordinary people felt.
Just like when she taught him to dance, things that seemed "obvious" to her became insurmountable obstacles for others.
Right now, she was confused because she couldn't grasp why someone would make such basic mistakes.
"Math is just plugging numbers into a formula."
To her, that statement was as obvious as "eat when you're hungry." It was how she had always done it, and it worked.
But for those who struggle with math, they don't even understand why those formulas exist—much less how plugging numbers into them yields an answer.
Yukinoshita couldn't comprehend why Megumi couldn't comprehend.
It was the same paradox that explained her poor stamina: she never had to practice because she learned things instantly—and because she never practiced, she never built endurance.
A contradiction with no easy solution.
It sounds like Yukinoshita's at fault here—but that's not really fair.
Was she not trying hard enough? Absolutely not.
Just like when she taught him to dance, she had quickly mastered a new skill and was now doing her best to teach it in a way she thought would work.
Of course, Megumi wasn't in the wrong either.
This was simply one of those moments where you had to accept that people are different—and that's perfectly okay.
Kyousuke wasn't always the overpowered genius he was now.
Before getting his system, he had lived his life using nothing but his average human brain.
Maybe he couldn't compare to his current cheat-level self, but he had fought his way through the academic gauntlet like everyone else.
Sure, it might sound arrogant, but… he used to be a complete idiot too!
And because of that, he understood how normal people learn.
Even now, looking back with his enhanced intellect, he saw it from a new perspective.
If you offered a cat a wad of cash, it wouldn't care.
But if you gave it a piece of dried bonito, it'd happily follow you anywhere.
He slid the scratch paper out from under Yukinoshita's hand and copied another problem of the same type from her pristine notebook—the white one of the black-and-white "twins."
He moved beside Megumi, gave her a smile, and waited until her attention was fully on him. Then, with his pencil, he circled two key words in the question.
"Just like Yukinoshita said," he began, "highlighting important information doesn't just save time—it's also the key to solving the problem. When you see these two words, they should instantly remind you of these two formulas."
He wrote both formulas below.
His explanation made Yukinoshita lift her head in interest.
"You're not sure which formula to use here because you haven't practiced enough. You're unfamiliar with this type of question," he said gently.
Kyousuke didn't have any brilliant teaching strategies.
In fact, Yukinoshita's method was objectively better—if the student was just a little more advanced.
But Megumi had always been an ordinary girl.
A flawless, wonderful ordinary girl—but still subject to the same cruel truths as all test-takers: the endless sea of exam prep.
There's an expression in Japan and Korea: 'Sleep four hours and pass; sleep five and fail.' It refers to the brutal effort needed to succeed in university entrance exams.
What cram schools offer isn't some shortcut—they give you extra hints, more perspectives, alternative methods.
But remembering and applying them? That takes relentless practice.
And that—repetition, drills, sheer grind—was something Yukinoshita could never truly understand.
To her genius mind, once you understood the principle, that was enough. Why would you ever need to solve hundreds of similar problems?
But Kyousuke understood.
So he decided to play the role of an old-school cram tutor: stay by Megumi's side, guide her patiently through repeated practice.
Help her sharpen her instincts, and—when new twists on familiar problems appeared—show her how to break them back down to basics.
This was the most old-fashioned, clumsy method of all—one that didn't start by asking students to understand the meaning behind formulas.
Instead, it followed the philosophy of "read something a hundred times and the meaning will reveal itself."
Even if they never understood the formulas, as long as they could solve every type of problem, that was considered enough.
Yukinoshita should probably count herself lucky that Katou Megumi wasn't one of those rebellious students who ask, "What's the point of studying, anyway?" Kyousuke chuckled to himself at the thought.
With Yukinoshita's perfectionist personality, there's no way she'd be able to respond with something as simple as, "So you can get into a good college."
If that question had come up, they'd probably be knee-deep in a debate about developing critical thinking or how math applies to real-world situations.
But when it came to tutoring, Kyousuke had plenty of experience.
Sakura's perfect test score was proof enough of that.
Since Yukinoshita had spent most of her energy earlier explaining the principles and derivations behind the formulas, Megumi still had no idea how to actually solve the problems.
But Hojou didn't rush. He patiently worked through a question with her, step by step.
Then came the second problem, the third…
His calm, clear voice—like a crisp wind sweeping across a frozen plain—flowed through the quiet tatami room like cool spring water, gently trickling into the ears of the two girls.
The small sense of frustration Megumi had been holding onto slowly faded away.
At first, she would still sneak glances at Hojou's chiseled side profile, as if it had been carved by a blade.
But before long, she was fully immersed in his teaching.
If only Hojou were our math teacher, she thought.
Even getting detention would be worth it, just to hear him explain problems like this.
Under Yukinoshita's puzzled gaze, Hojou guided Megumi through eleven problems before finally letting her try one on her own.
"Hmm? Hojou, do I use this formula here?" Megumi asked, lifting her head.
Before Hojou could answer, Yukinoshita's obsessive need for precision kicked in.
"No, that value refers to a triangle's—"
"This problem's basically identical to the fifth one we did earlier," Hojou interrupted smoothly. "Take a look at how I solved it then."
"Ah you're right"
Even though she still hadn't gotten the problem right on her own, Megumi's pale face lit up with delight.
Her voice was filled with genuine, unfiltered happiness.
As someone who had once been a total idiot himself, Kyousuke understood this feeling very well—the thrill of discovering a small truth about the world.
Even if you didn't know how to solve the problem now, realizing you'd already done something similar sparked a hopeful thought:
'If I can remember how I solved those past problems… then I'll be able to solve all of them!'
So he didn't explain it further.
He let her try it on her own by referring back to the previous example.
Just as before, he'd prepared a set of eleven similar problems, each a slight variation on the earlier one.
At first, Megumi needed to reference the solved problem as she worked through them.
Hojou had to step in with a hint here and there.
But soon, her pace picked up.
Her problem-solving became smoother, and her command of the formulas grew more confident.
For the first time, Katou Megumi realized that learning could actually be fun.
With Hojou's voice guiding her, even the most boring math formulas began to feel… kind of charming.
So even during holidays, after-school tutoring can be this enjoyable, she thought with a smile.
And it wasn't just Megumi's progress that was changing rapidly—the look on Yukinoshita's face was starting to change, too.