The final bell didn't sound like a relief; it sounded like a funeral toll. As the echoes faded into the humid afternoon air, the rest of the class began the frantic, noisy ritual of packing up, zippers zipping, chairs scraping, and the high-pitched chatter of people desperate to escape the building.

Nagi and Hayato didn't move.

They were slumped at their respective desks, their upper bodies draped over the wood as if their spines had been surgically removed. 

Nagi’s cheek was pressed against the flat surface, his eyes staring blankly at a scratch in the varnish. The heat, the lack of his usual protective sweater, and the looming threat of a ruined summer had combined into a weight he couldn't quite lift.

Behind him, Hayato was in even worse shape. His head was buried in his arms, his golden hair dampened by sweat and sticking out in chaotic directions. A low, rhythmic groan vibrated through his desk every few seconds, the sound of a man who had stared into the abyss of a supplementary math class and saw only darkness.

The classroom emptied until the only sounds were the distant shouts from the sports fields and the steady, indifferent whirring of the ceiling fans.

A shadow fell over Nagi’s desk. He didn't look up, but he heard the distinct, sharp clack of a bag being slung over a shoulder and the soft adjustment of glasses.

"Are they dead?"

The voice was cool and steady. Saki Hanamura stood there, her short black hair perfectly in place despite the humidity. Her black eyes moved from Nagi’s prone form to the shivering heap that was Hayato, her expression one of detached, intellectual curiosity.

Kaori, who had been standing by her own desk finishing a neat set of notes, looked over at the pair with a sigh. She hitched her bag higher on her shoulder, her gaze lingering on the back of Nagi’s head for a second longer than necessary.

"In spirit, yes," Kaori replied, her voice echoing slightly in the thinning room. "Asahina-kun is having a crisis because he hasn't bought all his textbooks yet."

She gestured vaguely toward the other desk with a flick of her wrist.

"And Koga-kun is... well, he's just being Koga-kun. He heard 'summer school,' and his brain decided to shut down for maintenance."

“But the Dinosaur Ball X movie…”

The two voices rose in a hollow, simultaneous croak from the surfaces of their desks. It sounded less like a sentence and more like a final prayer.

Saki let out a short, dry huff of amusement, her glasses glinting as she looked down at them. “Oof, I guess the stereotype was true. Studying is hard for otakus,” she said, her smirk widening as she watched Hayato’s fingers twitch at the mention of his hobbies.

Kaori shook her head, but she didn’t walk away. Instead, she adjusted her skirt and crouched down beside Nagi’s desk, bringing herself level with his half-buried face. 

The movement was fluid, and as she leaned in, the scent of her shampoo briefly cut through the stagnant, humid air of the classroom.

She rested her chin on her hand, propping her elbow on the edge of his desk. A teasing, playful smirk danced on her lips as she caught Nagi’s tired gaze.

“You look pathetic, Asahina-kun,” she hummed, her voice dropping into a low, melodic lilt. “Where’s that usual ‘leave me alone’ confidence? Did it disappear the moment you realized you might have to spend your summer in a remedial classroom instead of a movie theater?”

Nagi shifted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her.

“I’m considering my options,” he muttered against the wood.

“Well, since you’re so clearly struggling with your ‘options’ and your lack of basic supplies,” Kaori continued, her smirk turning into something a bit more challenging, “maybe you need someone to look after you. I could be persuaded to host a study session. You know, to make sure you actually buy the right books and don't end up crying over your Dinosaur Ball figurines in July.”

She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Of course, if you’d rather fail on your own, I won't stop you. But I hear the summer school teachers are particularly fond of extra-long essays.”

The threat of a summer spent writing essays was apparently the jolt of electricity they needed. 

As if synchronized by a single, desperate nerve, Nagi and Hayato bolted upright, their chairs screeching against the floor in a frantic chorus.

"Please teach us!" they shouted in unison.

Hayato was practically vibrating, his hands clasped together in a prayer-like gesture, while Nagi looked remarkably more alert than he had all morning, his eyes wide with the realization that his movie plans were hanging by a thread.

Saki, who had been leaning against a nearby desk, shifted her gaze toward Hayato. She adjusted her glasses, the light glinting off the lenses in a way that made her look particularly unimpressed.

"She wasn't even talking to you, Koga-kun," Saki remarked flatly. "She was making fun of Asahina-kun. You just invited yourself into the mockery."

Hayato didn't even flinch at the snub. He threw an arm around Nagi’s shoulder, dragging the boy toward him until their heads were nearly knocking together.

"It doesn't matter!" Hayato proclaimed with a heroic sniffle, wiping a stray bead of sweat from his temple. "In the face of midterms, Nagi and I are one! His crisis is my crisis! His study session is my study session! We are the Dinosaur duo, and we shall not fall!"

Nagi looked like he wanted to protest the "oneness," but the fear of a bookless study week kept his mouth shut. He merely gave a small, defeated nod.

Kaori, still crouching beside the desk, let out a genuine laugh this time. She looked between the two of them, the frantic, sweaty mess of a golden-haired boy and the quiet one who had finally met his match in a calendar.

"Fine, fine," she said, rising to her feet and dusting off her skirt. "I suppose I can't let both of you ruin the curve for the rest of the class. But if I’m teaching, you’re doing it my way. No distractions. No talking about power levels or movie trailers until the practice tests are cleared."

"Understood, General Mizuhara!" Hayato saluted, nearly falling off his chair in the process.

Kaori turned her gaze to Nagi, her smirk softening into something a bit more earnest. "That means we start with the bookstore. Right now. I’m not letting you walk in there alone; you'll probably end up in the manga section by mistake."

‘I got to see another side of him today…’ Kaori thought, giggling quietly to herself. 

Hayato bounced back to his feet, his energy fully restored now that a plan was in motion. He looked over at Saki, who was still leaning against the desk, watching the spectacle with a mixture of pity and amusement.

"Hey, Hanamura-chan! You’re coming too, right?" Hayato asked, his grin wide and hopeful. "The more the merrier! We can turn the bookstore trip into a full-on strategy meeting!"

Saki pushed off the desk, adjusting her glasses with a slow, deliberate finger. She looked at Hayato—still slightly damp from his earlier sprint—and then at Nagi, who looked like he was mentally preparing for a long day of being managed.

"I suppose," Saki muttered, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Watching you two try to navigate the reference section without getting distracted by the shiny manga covers sounds entertaining. Besides, someone needs to help Kaori keep you from wandering off."

"Hey! I have excellent focus when it comes to... things!" Hayato protested, though his eyes immediately wandered toward a fly buzzing near the ceiling.

Kaori laughed, the sound bright and clear in the humid room. "See? This is exactly why we're going as a group. Saki, thank you. I'm going to need the backup."

She turned back toward the door, gesturing for the boys to get moving. "Come on. If we get there now, we might actually beat the rush from the other classes. And Asahina-kun—" She glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes dancing. "Move. The bookstore doesn't do home delivery for 'lazy' students."

Nagi stood up, his chair letting out one final scrape against the floor. 

He felt a weird mix of dread for the studying and a strange, quiet hum of something else, the fact that Kaori was so adamant about helping him.

"I'm not lazy," he sighed, though he didn't look nearly as miserable as he had five minutes ago. 

The walk to the store was a slow trek through soup-thick air, with Hayato leading the way like a golden retriever that had forgotten it was heat-sensitive.

 The quartet reached the local bookstore, the bells above the door chimed with a crisp, air-conditioned promise that made Nagi’s soul feel like it was finally re-entering his body.

Saki stopped just short of the entrance, leaning against the cool brick of the storefront and crossing her arms.

"I’m staying out here," she announced, nodding toward the crowded street. "If I go in there with all four of us, we’ll just be an obstacle to the other students. Besides, Hayato looks like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin. I’ll keep him contained so he doesn't accidentally bowl over a display case."

"Good call," Kaori said, offering Saki a thankful look. "We won't be long. I just need to make sure a certain someone doesn't get 'lost'."

Nagi didn't argue. The coolness of the shop was beckoning. He stepped inside, his feet moving on autopilot. For months, his routine had been the same: enter, turn left, and head straight for the back-left corner where the new releases and weekly magazines were shelved.

He was halfway to the Dinosaur Ball X special edition volume—his eyes already locking onto the vibrant orange spine—when his momentum came to a sudden, jarring halt.

"Wrong. Way."

The words were punctuated by a sharp tug on his blue necktie.

Nagi stumbled backward, his chin dipping as Kaori gripped the fabric of his tie like a leash. She didn't let go, instead spinning him around with a practiced efficiency that suggested she had planned this exact maneuver the moment they stepped off the sidewalk.

"But the special edition—" Nagi started, his voice trailing off as he met her gaze.

"The special edition doesn't cover the Meiji Restoration, Asahina-kun," Kaori said, a triumphant, teasing glint in her eyes. 

She began walking toward the back of the store, toward the sterile, white-lit rows of the reference section, essentially towing him along behind her. "This way. Not that."

Nagi felt the slight heat of a flush creeping up his neck; this time, it had nothing to do with the summer humidity. Being led through a public bookstore by his tie was definitely not part of his plan.

‘My tie…’

"I can walk on my own, Mizuhara-san," he murmured, though he didn't actually pull away.

"I have evidence to the contrary," she chirped, finally letting go of the tie as they reached the towering shelves of prep-books. She turned to face him, crossing her arms over her blouse. "Now, show me the list. Which ones are you missing?" 

Nagi looked at the towering wall of academic texts, the sheer variety of spines enough to make his head swim. He shifted his weight, his fingers twitching toward the distant manga section.

"Maths... English... and History," he muttered, his voice flat. "The advanced level ones. I had the titles written down, but I think I left the note at home."

"Of course you did," Kaori said, though there was more amusement than irritation in her tone. She didn't hesitate, her hand darting out to pull three specific volumes from the shelves. 

She stacked them against her chest, heavy, intimidating books that felt like they weighed more than Nagi’s entire social life. "These are the ones. I'm using the same ones, so if you get stuck, you won't have the 'different edition' excuse."

She handed the stack to him. 

Nagi took them, the weight pulling his shoulders down. As she turned to check a neighboring shelf for a stray highlighter, Nagi saw his opening. 

The Dinosaur Ball X display was only two aisles away. He took a single, quiet step, then another, drifting toward the vibrant orange covers like a moth to a flame.

Snag.

His neck snapped forward as the blue silk of his tie tightened again. Kaori hadn't even looked over; she had simply reached out blindly and caught him mid-flight.

‘Again…?’

"I told you," she said, finally turning to face him with an expression of mock-disappointment. "This way. The counter is in the opposite direction of the dinosaurs, Asahina-kun."

She didn't let go this time. 

With her fingers firmly looped around the knot of his tie, she marched him toward the front of the store. 

Nagi followed sheepishly, the heavy textbooks clutched to his chest, feeling the curious stares of a few nearby juniors. He was pretty sure his "cool, detached" reputation was currently being buried under the reference section.

When they reached the register, the clerk looked between the determined girl and the boy being led by his neckwear with a raised eyebrow. 

Kaori stopped, finally releasing her grip, and turned to Nagi. She didn't say a sentence. She didn't even offer a nudge.

She simply held out her open palm and uttered a single, authoritative word:

"Wallet."

Nagi blinked, looking at her hand, then at her face. Her expression was unwavering—a perfect blend of "I’m in charge" and "don't make this difficult." He let out a long, defeated sigh and fished his leather wallet out of his back pocket, placing it into her waiting hand.

"I can do that on my own, you know," he mumbled.

‘What’s with her today? Why’s she being so… different?’ Nagi thought.

"You'll just get distracted by the manga at the register and lose your place in line," Kaori countered, already flipping his wallet open to find the bills. "Consider this a service for the chronologically challenged."

She paid for the books with a practiced efficiency, sliding his wallet back to him along with the heavy plastic bag.

"There," she said, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips as they headed for the exit. "Step one of 'Operation: Save Asahina-kun’s Summer' is complete."