Hayama, sat in the living room, his expression a mixture of frustration and disappointment. He had just received a complaint call from the headmaster of Nara High School, regarding his son's behavior and attitude in school. The headmaster's words still lingered in his mind, "Yuuki's lack of focus and grade is becoming a concern, and his influence on his peers is not entirely positive."

Hayama let out a deep sigh, rubbing his temples in an attempt to ward off the impending headache. He had always known that Yuuki was a bit of a handful, but he had never thought that his son's behavior would become a problem at school. As a businessman, Hayama was used to getting his way and having things done according to his plans. But when it came to his son, he seemed to be at a loss.

Despite the echoing criticism, Hayama knew Yuuki possessed immense potential. He had seen glimpses of brilliance in the boy, moments where his passion shone through during discussions. Yet with each report of disengagement and distraction, he felt a tightening knot in his stomach, as if every complaint were a personal indictment of his ability to guide Yuuki toward success.

Frustration mounted as he recalled various conversations with teachers. “He just doesn’t seem to care,” one had remarked, while another lamented, “It’s like he’s not even trying.” Hayama had wanted to argue, to defend Yuuki, to scream that he was more than the sum of his mistakes, but instead, he found himself grappling with feelings of helplessness.

He thought back to the times when Yuuki was younger, full of energy and curiosity, always getting into mischief and mayhem. Hayama had always been proud of his son's confidence and charisma, but as Yuuki grew older, those traits began to morph into entitlement. Hayama had tried to talk to Yuuki about it, to instill in him a sense of responsibility and humility, but it seemed like his words were falling on deaf ears.

His mind racing, Hayama pondered the reasons behind Yuuki's struggles. What had gone wrong? Had he been too lenient, too quick to give in to Yuuki's demands? The more he thought about it, the more he worried. He admitted that raising Yuuki alone wasn't easy, but what choice did he have? His wife had passed away when Yuuki was just a baby, and Hayama had been left to navigate the challenges of single parenthood alone.

The thought weighed heavily on him, igniting his determination to help. He imagined various strategies to approach Yuuki, to encourage him without overwhelming him.. Yet, lurking in the back of his mind was the fear that pushing too hard might send Yuuki further away, solidifying his isolation.

As the day wore on, the inner conflict within Hayama intensified. His passion for teaching and the responsibility he felt toward his students collided with his frustration over Yuuki’s choices. He had always believed in the importance of mentorship, but now he found himself struggling to reconcile that ideal with the reality of the situation.

The sound of the door opening shattered the silence, breaking Hayama's train of thought. He looked up to see Yuuki walking into the living room, a careless grin still plastered on his face as he greeted his father with a nonchalant "what's up dad?" But as he took in Hayama's serious expression, his grin faltered for a moment. Hayama's eyes, normally warm and encouraging, were now stern and intense, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Yuuki's gaze lingered on his father's face, sensing that something was off. He could see the tension in Hayama's shoulders, the tightness in his jaw, and the deep lines etched on his forehead. For a moment, Yuuki's carefree demeanor wavered, and he felt a spark of wariness ignite within him. He walked over to his father, his movements cautious, as if he was approaching a ticking time bomb.

Hayama beckoned Yuuki to come closer, his voice firm but controlled. "We need to talk," he said, his words hanging in the air like a challenge. Yuuki's eyes locked onto his father's, searching for a hint of what was to come. He could see the frustration and disappointment simmering beneath the surface, and his instincts told him that this conversation was not going to be easy.

Yuuki's eyes narrowed slightly. "Uhh, what's going on?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant despite the growing sense of unease in his stomach.

Hayama's expression remained stern, his voice firm. "I just received a call from the headmaster from your school," he said, the words hanging in the air like a threat.

Yuuki's gaze dropped, his eyes darting to the side as he muttered, "Yeah, but why?" He knew he hadn't been doing great in school, but he hadn't expected his father to get involved.

Hayama let out a deep sigh, the sound a mixture of frustration and disappointment. "What else if not for your grades?" he said. "You're not taking your studies seriously, son."

Yuuki shifted uncomfortably, feeling a surge of irritation at his father's words. He had just walked in the door, and already he was being lectured. "Dad, at least let me settle down and showered, I just returned from school," he replied, trying to stall for time. He didn't want to have this conversation right now, not when he was still feeling sweaty and tired from the day's activities. He hoped that by delaying the conversation, he could somehow avoid the inevitable lecture that was sure to come.

But as he saw his father's glare, he knew he couldn't escape this conversation. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and said "Okay, okay." He made his way to sit beside his father, dropping his backpack onto the coffee table with a soft thud. The room fell silent, the only sound the quiet hum of the air conditioner in the background.

Hayama's expression didn't soften, but he began to speak, his voice low and serious. "What's going on with you, Yuuki? You're not taking your studies seriously, and it's affecting your grades. You're better than this."

Yuuki shrugged, trying to downplay the situation. "They're just grades, Dad. It's not a big deal," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

But Hayama's tone was disbelieving. "Then what's the point of me sending you to school if you're not going to take it seriously?" he asked, his voice rising in frustration. "Should I just assign you a homeschool? Maybe that way you'll focus on your studies."

Yuuki's eyes widened in horror at the suggestion. "No, please don't do that," he said, his voice laced with desperation. The idea of being homeschooled was suffocating, and he couldn't bear the thought of being cooped up in the house all day. He loved his freedom, and the thought of giving it up was unbearable.

He continued, trying to reason with his father. "Besides, I have a basketball competition coming up, and I don't want to miss it. I promised myself I'll get my grades back on track. I'll try harder, Dad, I promise. Just please don't do that. I need to be around my friends, and I need to be able to play basketball. It's what keeps me going."

Hayama's expression turned gentle, and he spoke in a calm, measured tone. "Look, son, I don't want you to feel like I'm trapping you. I know you're capable of so much more, I just want what's best for you." He paused, his eyes filled with concern. "I can't help but worry when I see you drifting away like this. You're not living up to your potential, and it's frustrating to see."

Hayama's expression softened slightly, and he leaned back in his sofa, steepling his fingers together as he considered Yuuki's words. The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioner in the background.

Finally, Hayama spoke up, his voice firm but fair. "I'll tell you what, Yuuki," he said. "I'll give you one more chance. But if your grades don't improve, we'll have to reconsider your options. Do you understand?" He looked at Yuuki, his eyes searching for a glimmer of understanding, a sign that his son was willing to turn things around. The ball was now in Yuuki's court, and Hayama waited anxiously to see how he would respond.

 Yuuki flashed a charming grin as he replied, "Okay, I promise. I'll try to get my grades up." He said it with a hint of mischief, as if he was making a promise, he wasn't entirely sure he could keep. He chuckled and added, "But please don't put your hopes up too much, you know I'm suck at academics, especially math."

Hayama couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his son's cheeky demeanor. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Yuuki's grin was infectious, and Hayama found himself smiling slightly. "I'll try to keep my expectations in check," he said dryly, shaking his head in amusement. "But I still expect to see some improvement, got it?" He looked at Yuuki, his expression stern, but his eyes betrayed a hint of warmth and affection.

Yuuki flashed a thumbs up and asked, "Are we good now?" His face was a picture of innocence, as if he had never been in trouble in the first place. Hayama couldn't help but chuckle at his son's antics, shaking his head in amusement. "You're something else, you know that?" he said, a smile still playing on his lips.

Yuuki took his father's chuckle as a sign of acceptance and grinned. "I'll take that as a yes," he said, already standing up and heading towards the stairs. "I'll just head to my room first," he called out over his shoulder. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned back to his father and added, "And, Dad, please tell Oba-chan to make omurice for tonight, okay?" His eyes sparkled with hope, and Hayama couldn't resist his son's charming smile.

Hayama nodded, still shaking his head in amusement. "I'll let her know," he said, watching as Yuuki bounded up the stairs, already forgetting about the serious conversation they had just had. He sighed, a mix of exasperation and affection, and smiled to himself. That was his son, always managing to charm his way out of trouble.