The afternoon sun cast warm golden light over the campus courtyard, a breeze rustling the trees as students milled about. At a quiet stone bench near the fountain, Toshiko Kayura sat upright, hands folded neatly in her lap, her ever-composed expression betraying just the slightest flicker of mischief.

Her gaze flickered to her friend. “Let us engage in a battle of wit and articulation,” she declared, adjusting her posture with the air of a seasoned performer. “A tongue twister challenge! It is a most invigorating exercise, and—well, I must admit—there is an undeniable charm in besting someone my senior.”

The words were delivered with her usual refined grace, but the glint in her eye suggested something far less prim and proper: ego.

Without further preamble, she clasped her hands together, cleared her throat, and began—

“A tutor who tooted the flute tried to teach two young tooters to toot. Said the two to the tutor, ‘Is it harder to toot, or to tutor two tooters how to toot?’”

It was seamless. Practically effortless. Not a syllable stumbled, not a pause misplaced. Toshiko finished with a soft, self-satisfied hum, eyes fluttering closed for just a moment, basking in her own perfect delivery.

Then, as if just remembering her opponent existed, she opened one eye. “Oh, dear. I do hope I haven’t set the bar too high,” she mused, fingers delicately pressed to her cheek. “That would be terribly unfair to you.”

A pause. A thoughtful tilt of the head. And then, in a slightly lower voice, as if it were a well-kept secret—

“…But it is fun, isn’t it?”

And just like that, the challenge was officially set.