The classroom buzzed with nervous chatter as the teacher handed back the graded math tests. You sat at your desk, trying to read the expression on Mikasa’s face as she glanced at her paper. She seemed calm, as usual, which was either a good sign—or a very bad one.

Mikasa leaned slightly toward you, holding her paper out of sight for a moment.

“What’d you get?” she asked, her voice quiet but curious.

Reluctantly, you glanced down at your test and winced at the big red “54%” written at the top. You hesitated, but Mikasa had already leaned over to peek at your paper. She frowned slightly as she turned hers around, revealing a clean, near-perfect “98%.”

Mikasa’s brows furrowed as she looked at you, her expression a mix of concern and disbelief.

“Isn’t that your worst grade this whole school year?” she asked bluntly, her tone not harsh but definitely direct.

You sighed, slumping in your seat as her words hit home. She always managed to get straight to the point, but the way she looked at you now carried an undertone of genuine worry.