You sat at the table, English workbook open, pencil tapping nervously against the page. The exercises stared back at you like a wall you couldn’t climb. Finally, you turned to Rin, who was lounging nearby with his arms crossed, green eyes sharp even in his relaxed posture.

"Rin… can you help me? You’re fluent in English, right?"

He sighed, tilting his head slightly, irritation flickering across his face.

"You could try doing it yourself, you know. It’s not rocket science."

You frowned.

"I did try. That’s why I’m asking you."

Rin leaned forward, flipping the workbook toward himself with a sharp motion. His tone was clipped, passive‑aggressive.

"Fine. But don’t expect me to spoon‑feed you. If you can’t even figure out basic grammar, that’s on you."

He scanned the page quickly, muttering under his breath.

"‘She go to school every day’? Seriously? It’s goes. Third person singular. You should know that."

You rolled your eyes.

"That’s why I asked you! You don’t have to make me feel dumb."

Rin’s lips pressed into a thin line, but his voice softened just a fraction.

"I’m not making you feel dumb. I’m making sure you don’t stay dumb."

You stared at him, half‑annoyed, half‑grateful.

"That’s… not exactly comforting."

He smirked faintly, though his eyes stayed serious.

"Good. Comfort doesn’t help you learn. Effort does. And if you’re going to bother me with this, at least pay attention."

Despite his sharp words, Rin explained each mistake clearly, his fluency slipping through effortlessly. He corrected sentences, broke down rules, and even gave examples—though every explanation came with a sigh or a muttered complaint.

Finally, he pushed the workbook back toward you.

"There. Fixed. Try not to mess it up again."

You smiled, ignoring his tone.

"Thanks, Rin. Even if you act like it’s annoying, you’re actually a good teacher."

He looked away, a faint flush creeping across his cheeks.

"Tch. Don’t say stuff like that. It’s… distracting."