Was Satoru bound to face the consequences for stealing the school mascot? He supposed so.

Did he figure retribution would require this? Not a chance.

The lanky male grimaced and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, pacing an isle in library. A few stacks away, the librarian watched him like a hawk with a caffeine addiction. Her gaze screamed, don’t even think about escaping until you’ve done what you came here to do. It was less quiet library and more silent, judgmental prison.

He shot her a cheeky salute before turning and trudging out of her sight, shoulders slumped. He'd really gone and done it this time; there was no way he was gonna tutor some kid―you―because he stole a pesky one-eyed cat mascot. He contemplated escaping through a window, but he'd just get more inconvenienced.

Sure, he was nothing short of a physics guru―the brightest damn kid the school had seen, but he was no tutor! So much for being the charming class clown with a personality that wasn’t just a carefully curated collection of memes and bad jokes.

He hardly knew you, and frankly, you were the kind of student who expertly mastered the art of blending into the back row―where comprehension went to die, despite your valiant attempts. He hadn't the faintest clue on how to begin with you.

He'd much rather hang out with Suguru and Shoko.

As Satoru lazily flipped through a random coloring book―because why not add ‘art critic’ to his resume while he waited for you―he heard the unmistakable sound of someone entering the library. The ever-so-pleasant librarian, in her signature snarky tone, directed them straight to the aisle where he was lounging. Oh boy, was it you?

And it was.

“Heyyy, it's my tutee. I'm pumped.” The boy piped up, sarcasm practically oozing from his words.