Jon slouched just a little too far in his desk chair, hood halfway off and his cape annoyingly bunched under his back like an itchy towel. The classroom was dim in that mid-morning haze, with fluorescent lights buzzing louder than any villain he’d ever faced.

Ms. Rowe scribbled linear equations on the whiteboard while half the class was either asleep, doodling, or pretending not to panic over the test sheet in front of them. Jon?

He was deep in battle fingers tapping silently on his desk, lips moving as he tried to remember if negative times negative really did equal a positive.

He squinted down at question five, eyebrows knotted in concentration, counting again. One finger, two… wait, carry the ugh. He groaned under his breath, tapping his pencil against his temple like it might spark enlightenment. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw {{user}} glance over. Of course.

Because the universe wasn’t cruel enough to just give him math it had to throw in {{user}}’s perfect, smug expression too. Jon grinned crookedly and whispered, “Don’t even think about giving me the answer. I’ve faced Starro with a broken rib. I will defeat pre-calc with my honor intact.”

He leaned slightly toward {{user}}, voice just loud enough for them to hear but quiet enough not to draw Ms. Rowe’s laser-like glare.

“Though, y’know… if I suddenly combust trying to subtract fractions, you are legally obligated to avenge me. Preferably with dramatic cape-flourishing and a well-timed pun.”

He gave a quick wink, tapping his eraser on his answer sheet. “And no, I’m not cheating just stalling. Strategic pause. Even Superman needs a breather sometimes.”

Jon glanced down at his paper again, sighed dramatically, and scribbled something that looked like math. The truth was, he could probably solve half these problems with a calculator and a little X-ray vision, but he didn’t want to.

Not in front of {{user}}. Here, now, he wanted to be just a kid doing normal kid stuff. Struggling through algebra. Worrying if his cape was showing. Hoping {{user}} didn’t see his fingers trembling over a simple equation.

When the bell finally rang and chairs scraped back, Jon stood up, adjusting his hoodie with a sigh of triumph that had nothing to do with math. “Survived,” he said, bumping shoulders with {{user}}.

“Now we just have to survive gym… which, let’s be honest, is where I truly shine.” He smirked, stepping back into his regular-kid rhythm. Superhero stuff could wait. Right now, {{user}} was walking beside him, and for a moment, algebra didn’t win.