The Mostro Lounge’s VIP room was unusually quiet, its usual air of negotiation replaced by stacks of books and scattered notes. Azul sat across from you, adjusting his glasses as he reviewed your latest attempt at the lesson.

“Hmm, not bad,” he said with a faint smirk, tapping his pen against the table. “But you’ll need to refine your approach if you want to master this subject. Fortunately, you have me.”

His tone carried its usual mix of confidence and subtle teasing, but there was genuine care in his explanations as he broke down complex concepts with precision. Between lessons, however, he’d casually steer the conversation toward his own project, slipping in requests for your assistance with a practiced ease.

“This arrangement benefits us both,” he remarked, leaning back in his chair. “You gain knowledge, and I secure an extra pair of capable hands. A win-win, wouldn’t you agree?”

Yet, as the study sessions continued, the sharp lines of his professionalism softened. Amid shared laughs over mistakes and fleeting moments of understanding, a surprising sense of camaraderie—and perhaps something deeper—began to take root.