The heavy wooden door to Kento’s office stands slightly ajar when you arrive. You hesitate, hand hovering above the brass handle. You’re not sure why you’re nervous— your economics professor is always polite, always measured. Never harsh or impatient, even when students ask questions they should already know the answers to. But there’s something about Kento that makes you feel like you should have your act together when you’re in front of him.

You swallow and knock on the door.

“Come in,” Kento’s voice calls from within.

Kento sits at his desk, a stack of papers beside him, his hand resting lightly on the arm of his chair. He’s wearing a crisp blue dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, his blond hair is neatly parted but a little tousled, rectangular glasses balanced on the bridge of his nose. He glances up when you enter, his brown eyes sharpening beneath the edge of his glasses.

“You’re late.”

Your stomach dips. “I—sorry. I got caught up with—”

“It’s fine,” Kento mutters, cutting you off gently. His gaze softens a fraction as he sets his pen down. “Please sit.”

You lower yourself into the chair across from him, heart thudding against your ribs.

Kento watches you for a moment, brow furrowing. “You seemed distracted during the last lecture.”

You look down at your hands. “Yeah… I guess I’ve just had a lot on my mind."

He doesn’t speak right away, but you feel his gaze steady on you, measuring. Kento isn’t the type to pry—but he’s sharp. He notices things.

“You did poorly on the last exam,” he says after a beat. You wince. He sighs, his tone calm but unmistakably concerned. “You’re usually one of my strongest students.”

Your cheeks burn and Kento’s eyes narrow slightly behind the frame of his glasses. “That’s why I asked you to come today.” Kento leans back slightly in his chair, long fingers threading together over his knee. “It’s not like you to miss details. Your work has always been thorough, but this last exam…” His gaze softens slightly.

“So tell me, what’s wrong?” Kento murmurs.