Chapter 9
Finals week begins with panic.
Kaito is already melting.
"This is the end," he whispers dramatically as they enter the classroom.
"It's Monday," Hana replies.
"Yes. The beginning of the end."
Yui twirls a pen between her fingers lazily.
"Relax. Worst case, you retake."
Kaito gasps.
"That's not relaxing."
Emilia takes her seat with precise movements.
She feels normal again.
Clearer.
Stronger.
Steadier.
Her cough is nearly gone.
Her headache faded.
She will not fall behind.
She will not lose control again.
Ren sits across from her.
Their eyes meet briefly.
A silent acknowledgment.
Back to competition.
Good.
Safe territory.
"You're better," he says quietly.
"I was always fine."
"You weren't." Ren Replies
"I am now."
He studies her.
Then nods once.
Satisfied.
That small nod makes her stomach flip slightly.
Unacceptable.
The teacher begins handing out review packets.
"These are final format simulations."
Collective groans.
Emilia straightens.
Simulation means preparation.
Preparation means advantage.
She flips the first page immediately.
Dense.
Complex.
Good.
Ren does the same.
Their movements mirror each other without trying.
Kaito stares at the paper like it personally insulted him.
"I can't breathe."
"That's anxiety," Hana says.
"It's murder."
Yui leans over Emilia's shoulder.
"Top two ready to duel?"
Emilia doesn't look up.
"I am not dueling."
Ren says calmly, "She is."
She turns sharply.
"I am not."
"You are."
"No."
"Yes."
Yui grins.
"Oh, this is going to be good."
The first hour is silent.
Only pens scratching.
Pages turning.
Kaito muttering quiet prayers.
Emilia moves quickly.
Controlled.
Efficient.
Sharp.
She finishes section one.
Glances up.
Ren is still writing.
She feels a small spark of satisfaction.
She waits.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Ren flips the page.
Finished.
Her satisfaction dissolves immediately.
He looks up.
Meets her gaze.
Calm.
Not smug.
Just aware.
She narrows her eyes slightly.
"You're slower," she whispers.
"I wasn't racing."
"You were."
"No."
"You were."
He tilts his head.
"You're competitive."
"Yes."
"Why."
"Because I win."
"You won by one question." Ren Whispers
"That is still winning." Emilia Smirks
He studies her for a second.
"You're trying too hard."
Her pen pauses.
"I am not."
"You are."
"I am focused."
"You're pushing." Ren says Calmly
The words echo faintly from last week.
Her chest tightens slightly.
She hates that he notices patterns.
She leans closer.
French, low:
"Je te dépasserai."
(I will surpass you.)
Ren's lips twitch faintly.
English reply, soft:
"You already did."
Her heart stumbles.
That wasn't competitive.
That was—
She straightens immediately.
"Don't."
"Don't what."
"Say things like that."
"Like what." Ren says Smirking
She doesn't answer.
Because she doesn't know what that was.
And she doesn't want to analyze it mid-exam.
Break time erupts in chaos.
Kaito clutches his head.
"I guessed on two."
Hana looks unimpressed.
"You guess on everything."
Yui leans across the desk toward Emilia.
"You look intense."
"I am."
"Why are you glaring at him."
"I am not."
Ren glances up.
"You are."
She glares harder.
"This is irrelevant."
Yui squints.
"Are you two fighting again."
"We're not," Ren says calmly.
"We are not," Emilia says immediately after.
Their timing is identical.
Silence.
Yui's grin returns.
"You're synchronized."
Emilia feels heat rise again.
That word.
Synchronized.
She doesn't like it.
She likes it too much.
Second section begins.
Harder.
More layered.
Requires careful reasoning.
Emilia slows slightly.
More deliberate.
She refuses to make careless errors again.
Halfway through—
She senses it.
Ren finishing early.
Again.
She glances sideways.
He's done.
He's not writing.
He's watching her.
Her pulse spikes slightly.
"Stop," she whispers.
"I'm not."
"You are."
"You're checking your answers."
"I am not."
"You are."
She presses her pen harder.
He leans slightly closer.
Not touching.
Just enough.
"You're overcorrecting," he murmurs.
"I am not."
"You are."
Her breath quickens slightly.
She hates that he's right.
She erased one line three times already.
She forces herself to move on.
Focus.
Ignore him.
Ignore the warmth.
Ignore the memory of her hand in his sleeve.
Ignore—
"Time," the teacher calls.
Pens down.
Emilia exhales sharply.
She hates not knowing immediately.
Ren stretches his fingers slightly.
Casual.
Annoyingly calm.
"You hesitated on question seven," he says.
Her head snaps toward him.
"I did not."
"You did."
"I did not."
"You paused."
"That was strategic." Emilia Scoffs
"You erased."
She freezes.
"How do you—"
"You pressed too hard."
She looks down at her paper.
Indent marks visible.
Her stomach flips.
He notices everything.
Everything.
She leans closer.
French, sharper:
"Arrête de m'observer."
(Stop observing me.)
Ren's reply is immediate.
English.
"I'm not observing."
"You are."
"I'm paying attention."
Her heart stutters again.
That phrasing is dangerous.
She looks away first.
Results won't come until tomorrow.
Which means tonight will be torture.
Kaito groans loudly.
"I can't survive suspense."
Yui stretches lazily.
"It's just one day."
"It's one lifetime," Kaito replies.
Hana gathers her notes efficiently.
"Study again tonight."
Kaito collapses.
Emilia stands slowly.
Her body feels fine.
Her mind does not.
She hates waiting.
She hates uncertainty.
She hates that she wants to know where Ren stands.
He walks beside her as they exit.
Matching pace again.
Infuriating.
Comforting.
"You'll win," he says calmly.
She stops walking.
"What."
"You will."
She narrows her eyes.
"That sounds like surrender."
"It's not."
"Then what is it."
He looks at her.
Steady.
"You need it more."
Her chest tightens painfully.
"That is not true."
"It is."
"Why." Emilia Snaps
He pauses.
Just long enough.
Then:
"Because you're still trying to prove something."
Silence crashes between them.
She doesn't respond immediately.
Because he's right.
She is.
She just doesn't know what.
Or to whom.
"You're wrong," she says finally.
"Okay."
That calm acceptance shakes her more than argument would have.
They resume walking.
Side by side.
Not touching.
But aware.
Very aware.
Exam chaos has begun.
And beneath the competition—
Something else is building.
Disturbance
The worst part of exams isn't the test.
It's the waiting.
Emilia pretends she is unaffected.
She is very affected.
Kaito, however, does not pretend.
"I am perishing," he announces dramatically as they gather for after-school review.
"You are alive," Hana replies.
"Barely."
Yui leans back in her chair.
"I think you passed."
"You think?" Kaito gasps. "That is not reassuring."
Ren sits down calmly, opening his notebook.
Emilia mirrors the motion automatically.
Professional.
Unbothered.
Her heart is not unbothered.
She doesn't look at him.
Not when she feels him glance at her.
Not when she senses that small shift in air that always happens when he focuses on her.
She focuses on the problem set instead.
Distraction is productive.
Kaito begins pacing.
"I know I failed question seven."
"You don't," Hana says.
"I erased it three times."
Emilia stiffens slightly.
Ren notices.
Of course he does.
He doesn't comment.
But she sees the flicker in his eyes.
The memory of her pressing too hard into the paper.
She clears her throat.
"That question required layered reasoning."
Kaito stares at her.
"That is not comforting."
"It was manageable." Enilia says Smugly
"For you."
Ren adds mildly, "It wasn't bad."
Kaito turns slowly.
"You two are monsters."
Yui grins.
"I love this arc."
They begin reviewing practice questions again.
Kaito dramatically re-enacts his thought process.
"I saw the equation and immediately panicked."
"That was your first mistake," Hana replies.
"My existence is my first mistake."
Emilia almost smiles.
Almost.
She keeps her composure.
Ren shifts his notebook closer to hers.
Their shoulders nearly brush.
She doesn't move away.
She refuses to be the first to adjust.
"Your logic there is cleaner," he murmurs.
"I know."
"You hesitated before."
"I did not."
"You did."
She exhales sharply.
"This is irrelevant."
"You're still thinking about it."
"I am not."
"You are."
She turns sharply.
"Tu te répètes encore."
(You're repeating yourself again.)
Ren doesn't miss a beat.
English.
"You're still defensive."
Her pulse spikes.
Yui's head lifts immediately.
"What did she say?"
"She said I repeat myself," Ren answers calmly.
Emilia freezes.
"You're not allowed to translate voluntarily."
"You didn't specify that."
Kaito gasps.
"He's weaponizing bilingualism."
Hana sighs.
"This is exhausting."
Emilia feels heat rise to her cheeks.
She turns back to her paper.
Focus.
She will not spiral.
Not again.
Halfway through the session, the classroom door opens.
A girl from the neighboring class steps in.
Polished hair.
Neat posture.
Confident smile.
Emilia recognizes her immediately.
Top five.
Consistent.
Competitive.
She walks straight toward Ren.
"Do you have the supplementary sheet from yesterday?"
Emilia's pen pauses mid-sentence.
Ren looks up.
"Yes."
Of course he does.
He always has everything.
He reaches into his bag.
Pulls it out.
The girl steps closer.
Too close.
"Thanks. I think I messed up one section."
Ren tilts his head slightly.
"Which one?"
"Question seven."
Emilia's stomach tightens instantly.
Of course.
Of course it's that one.
Ren gestures to the paper.
"Your assumption probably flipped here."
The girl leans in.
Their heads almost align.
Emilia's grip tightens on her pen.
Ink presses deeper into the page.
She hates that her chest feels tight.
Hates that she's listening.
Hates that she wants to interrupt.
The girl nods slowly.
"Oh. That makes sense."
Ren gives a small nod.
"That question was layered."
The girl smiles.
"You finished early, didn't you?"
Emilia looks up sharply.
Ren shrugs.
"I manage time."
The girl laughs lightly.
"You always do."
Emilia's jaw tightens.
Always.
That word shouldn't bother her.
It does.
The girl steps back slightly.
"Thanks. See you tomorrow."
She leaves.
Silence lingers.
Kaito looks between Emilia and Ren like he's watching live television.
Yui slowly turns toward Emilia.
"Are you okay."
"I am fine."
Yui grins.
"You're not allowed to say that."
Emilia's left eyebrow twitches.
Ren calmly resumes writing.
As if nothing happened.
Which is infuriating.
Emilia leans slightly toward him.
Voice low.
Controlled.
French.
"Elle te parle beaucoup."
(She talks to you a lot.)
Ren doesn't look up.
English reply.
"She needed help."
"That wasn't what I said."
"I know."
Her pulse stutters.
He knows.
He always knows.
She narrows her eyes.
"Tu aimes ça ?"
(Do you like that?)
Ren finally looks at her.
Steady.
Measured.
English.
"You're asking the wrong question."
Her breath catches.
"What is the right question."
He leans slightly closer.
Close enough that only she hears.
"Why does it bother you."
Her heart pounds violently.
"It doesn't."
"It does."
"No."
"Yes."
The rhythm again.
But sharper.
Yui leans across the table.
"Are we fighting again?"
"We are not," Ren says calmly.
"We are not," Emilia echoes immediately.
Kaito whispers dramatically, "They're synchronized again."
Emilia glares.
"This is irrelevant."
Ren's gaze softens just slightly.
"It's not."
She looks away first.
Again.
She hates that she does that.
Kaito suddenly stands up.
"I cannot handle this tension and suspense simultaneously."
"Sit down," Hana says.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
Ren and Emilia both say "Yes" at the same time.
They pause.
Look at each other.
Then away.
Yui laughs.
"This is better than streaming."
Emilia presses her fingers against her temple.
Not a headache.
Just pressure.
"Focus," she says sharply.
"We are," Kaito replies dramatically. "On your emotional development."
She stares at him.
"You are not funny."
"I am."
"No."
"Yes."
Hana sighs.
"Back to work."
The sun begins to set outside the classroom windows.
Orange light filtering in.
Softening everything.
Even the tension.
Emilia finally exhales slowly.
She doesn't like jealousy.
It feels messy.
Unstructured.
Illogical.
She prefers competition.
That has rules.
Jealousy does not.
Ren closes his notebook.
"You'll win tomorrow."
She looks at him.
"You sound confident."
"I am."
"Why."
He shrugs lightly.
"You're sharper when you're irritated."
Her stomach flips.
"That is not flattering."
"It's accurate."
She narrows her eyes.
"You're insufferable."
"You like that."
Her cheeks heat.
She looks away.
Silence stretches.
Comfortable.
Dangerous.
Tomorrow the results will be posted.
Tomorrow something shifts.
She can feel it.
And she hates not knowing which direction.