Summer vacation had settled in like a lazy cat—stretching across days, refusing to move, and somehow making everything slower.
The festival was over.
The noise, the lights, the chaos—
gone.
And in their place?
Homework.
"…This is a crime," Minato muttered, staring at the pile of worksheets in front of him as if they had personally betrayed him.
Shin Hitori sat across from him, perfectly still, a pen moving across paper with quiet efficiency.
Scratch.
Pause.
Flip.
Another page done.
Minato watched him.
Then looked at his own blank page.
Then back at Shin.
"…You're not human."
"I am," Shin replied calmly, without looking up.
"No. No, I refuse to believe that. This is summer vacation. You're supposed to suffer."
"I am not suffering."
"That's the problem!"
They were sitting in Shin's room—simple, clean, almost suspiciously organized. The kind of place that made you feel like even your thoughts needed permission to exist.
Outside, the afternoon sun pressed lazily against the window.
Inside—
Minato was dying.
"…Explain this to me," Minato said, tapping his math sheet dramatically. "Why does this exist?"
"To test your understanding."
"My understanding is that I don't understand."
"Then the test is working."
Minato froze.
"…I hate you."
"I know."
Minato leaned back, staring at the ceiling like it might offer answers.
It didn't.
Of course it didn't.
"…You tricked me," he said after a moment.
"I didn't."
"You said you'd help me."
"I am helping you."
"You're doing your own work!"
"I told you my condition."
Minato sat up.
Mocking tone activated—
"Ohhh, yes, yes… 'You have to only study.' I remember now."
He pointed accusingly.
"That was a trap."
"It was not."
"It was a beautifully designed trap."
Shin turned a page.
"…You agreed to it."
Minato collapsed forward onto the table.
"This is the worst deal in human history."
Silence.
Then—
"…You can ask if you don't understand something," Shin added.
Minato slowly lifted his head.
Eyes narrowed.
Hope… fragile, but alive.
"…Really?"
"Yes."
A pause.
Minato immediately pushed his entire notebook toward him.
"I don't understand anything."
"…That is not how this works."
"Then teach me everything."
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
Minato stared at him.
Then—
dramatically grabbed his own collar.
"If I fail, my life is over."
"It is not."
"My parents will disown me."
"They won't."
"I will become a wandering soul."
"You already are."
"…That hurt."
Shin sighed softly, finally putting his pen down.
"…Which question?"
Minato's entire face lit up like a festival lantern.
"This one!"
He pointed randomly.
Shin looked.
Paused.
Then looked at him.
"…You skipped the first three chapters."
"…Details."
"…You need those to understand this."
Minato blinked.
"…So you're saying… I'm doomed."
"I'm saying start from the beginning."
Minato stared at the book.
Then slowly closed it.
"…No."
"Then you are doomed."
"…You're enjoying this."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm not."
"You are a little."
A very small pause.
"…Maybe a little."
"UNBELIEVABLE."
Minutes passed.
Then more.
At some point—
Minato actually started writing.
Badly.
Messily.
With the energy of someone being forced into manual labor.
"…Why is this so hard?" he complained.
"Because you didn't pay attention."
"I was paying attention!"
"To what?"
"…Life."
Shin glanced at him.
"…Life didn't include math?"
"No, math betrayed me."
"…Math is consistent."
"Exactly. That's suspicious."
Shin almost smiled.
Almost.
A breeze slipped in through the window.
Pages fluttered.
The room felt quieter.
Minato stopped writing for a moment.
Looked outside.
Then—
"…Hey."
"Hm?"
"…This is kinda boring."
"Yes."
"…But not that bad."
Shin didn't reply.
Minato leaned back again.
"…I thought you'd just give me answers."
"I won't."
"…You're strict."
"I'm normal."
"You're not."
"…You came here knowing that."
"…Yeah."
A small pause settled between them.
Not awkward.
Not heavy.
Just… there.
Minato looked at his half-done page.
Then at Shin.
"…You know," he said, quieter this time, "this is probably the first time I've actually studied during vacation."
"That's good."
"…Don't get used to it."
"I won't."
Minato smirked slightly.
Then picked up his pen again.
"…Hey, Hitori."
"Hm?"
"…If I finish this… do I get a reward?"
"No."
"…Wow."
"You get knowledge."
"…That's the worst reward I've ever heard."
Shin turned another page.
"…Then don't finish it."
Minato froze.
Looked at the paper.
Then—
started writing again.
"…I hate you," he muttered.
"I know."
Outside, the sun began to dip slowly, painting the sky in softer shades.
Inside—
papers filled,
complaints continued,
and time passed quietly between them.
And somehow—
between frustration,
arguments,
and terrible study habits—
something small,
something unspoken—
remained.