Math class at Seika High was a battlefield of erasers and existential dread, blackboard equations looming like unsolved riddles. Kai Tanaka hunched over his desk in the back row, pencil scratching through quadratics with the focus of a codebreaker. Sensei Ikeda paced the front, handing back midterms like verdicts: A's fluttering to the front, C's thudding mid-pack, F's slinking to the rear. Kai's paper landed soft—a solid B+, his usual orbit. But the murmurs erupted before he could exhale.
"Wait—mine's wrong!" Miko, the class rep, waved her sheet like a flag of protest. "I got 98 last time—this says 72? And the handwriting... not mine."
Sora, two seats over, snatched his own: "Dude, I bombed a 65—fair. But Haruka? She got my answers. Look—the smudges match my coffee spill!"
Haruka flushed crimson, her lit club notebook hiding her face. "I... I don't cheat. This isn't my script."
Sensei Ikeda's glasses slipped, confusion creasing his brow. "Swapped answers? Impossible—stapled, graded blind." But the pile spread: five papers mismatched, scores flipped like a cruel magic trick. Top students tanked, middlers soared. Cheating scandal whispers ignited—ring leader? Copy ring?
Kai's eyes narrowed, scanning the chaos. Details: Papers crisp, no creases from rough handling; staples aligned, but one bent subtle—lefty thumb? And the errors: not random, patterned. Miko's perfect loops became Sora's scrawl on hers; his blocky print ghosted Haruka's. "Not swapped post-grade," he murmured to Yumi beside him. "Pre-test. Answer sheets switched in the stack."
Yumi nodded, her own A untouched. "Justice or joke? But the F's—stressed kids hit hardest. Look at Tsubasa in the corner."
Tsubasa: quiet third-row, always buried in notes, family rumors of cram factory pressure. Her paper: a swapped 92 where her real 45 should glare. But her face—pale, eyes hollow—screamed not triumph, but terror.
Sensei collected the mess, voice stern. "Investigation after school. No accusations—yet. Tanaka, your insight? You've got the rep."
Kai sighed, the weight of "school sleuth" settling. Emiko's echo: Swapped scores? Empathy's the equation. Balance: nail the swapper, but spot the plea beneath.
The group reconvened in the empty classroom post-bell, papers pilfered for "peer review" cover. Aiko spread them on desks, sketching a swap web: Miko's to Sora's, Haruka's loop to Tsubasa's scrawl. "Pattern: High to low. Humble brag? Or sabotage?"
Sora paced, eraser dust trailing. "Sabotage! Jealous rival—math club vs. lit? Haruka's the bridge."
Haruka fidgeted by the window, voice small. "I... studied all night. If this tanks my average..." Trail-off to tears. Pressure cooker: college apps looming, family expectations a vice.
Yumi traced the bent staple. "Lefty again. Like the bento notes. But motive—empathy test?"
Kai's gaze landed on Tsubasa, lingering by the door, backpack slung heavy. "Tsubasa. Your paper—swapped high. Happy?"
She startled, eyes darting. "N-no. It's... wrong. I earned the low one." Voice cracked, backpack slipping. A corner peeked: crumpled study sheets, red-inked pleas—Must ace or disappoint Dad.
Plea spotted. Kai softened. "Talk? Off-record."
The roof again—Seika's confessional, wind whispering alibis. Tsubasa clutched her bag, words tumbling. "Dad's factory—overtime king. Pushes: 'Scores or streets.' I... swapped 'em. High ones on low kids, to... lift 'em? Fake boost, buy time for tutors I can't afford." Tears now, raw. "Miko's always perfect—thought she'd laugh it off. Yours, Kai—B's steady, no harm. But Haruka... I didn't mean—"
Sora deflated mid-pace. "Lift? That's... kinda sweet? Lame execution, though."
Aiko's sketchpad flipped: empathy doodle, scales tipping from justice to mercy. "Stressed plea. Not cheat—cry for help."
Yumi nodded. "Sensei's fair—regrade with confession? Club fund tutor drive?"
Tsubasa's shoulders shook. "He'll kill me. The swap—lefty habit, staples my tell. Thought it'd even the field, y'know? Underdogs up."
Kai's knack balanced: justice (own the mess), empathy (the why). "We back you. Group confession—'study mix-up prank gone wrong.' Tutor anonymous—art/lit collab, cram sessions free."
Haruka stepped forward, hand out. "Me too. My low? Real, but... we all dip. Team lift?"
Resolution rippled: evening meeting with Sensei, Tsubasa's tearful truth. Papers re-swapped, regraded fair—curves adjusted, no scars on records. Tutor net launched: Yumi's lit for motivation, Aiko's art for breaks, Sora's "snacks squad."
Sensei clapped Tsubasa's back. "Pressure's the real thief. Door's open—anytime."
Downstairs, quad lights flickering on, Sora whooped. "Empathy ace! Kai, you're the soft-shoe detective."
Yumi linked arms with Tsubasa. "Welcome to the squad. Next swap: stories, not scores."
Haruka nudged Kai, shy smile. "Coffee still on? Thanks for... seeing."
He grinned. "Always. Details include hearts."
Emiko's text: Equation solved. Rumor: 'haunted' vending machine? Or let empathy echo?
Kai pocketed it, the math board's ghosts fading. Everyday: numbers crunched, but kindness added up.
End of Chapter 15
(Next chapter tease: The school's "haunted" vending machine—spitting wrong snacks and cryptic fortunes—unravels as a quirky staff prank, but hides a deeper layer of a lonely custodian's bid for connection, pulling Kai into a whimsical yet warm-hearted intervention.)