Emi the Eel lover

December 2022 (first octa Azul art) / Now

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Taglist:

All - @sleepycoffeebug

Your first tutoring session begins fifteen minutes early.

Not because your student arrived ahead of schedule, but because you did. After spending nearly half an hour double-checking your planner, confirming the classroom reservation, and arranging the desks so they sat at the perfect angle for discussion, you concluded that arriving any later would have been irresponsible. The empty classroom is pleasantly quiet, sunlight streaming through the tall windows while the faint scent of chalk lingers in the air. Everything is exactly as you planned, and for the first time since accepting the tutoring position, you begin to feel that perhaps this won't be so difficult after all.

A timid knock interrupts your thoughts.

You hurry to the door and find a navy-haired first-year standing rigidly in the hallway, clutching two textbooks tightly against his chest. His posture is so straight it looks almost painful, and the determined expression on his face falters the moment your eyes meet. "G-Good afternoon!" he blurts out, bowing so quickly that you worry he might lose his balance. "I'm Deuce Spade! I signed up for tutoring in Magic Analysis and Mathematics! Thank you very much for agreeing to teach me!"

You instinctively bow just as deeply. "It's nice to meet you, Deuce! Please, come in." As he steps into the classroom, you can't help noticing how carefully he wipes his shoes on the mat before entering, almost as if he's afraid of leaving dirt behind. He carries himself with remarkable seriousness for someone his age, and despite the nervousness written across his face, there's an unmistakable determination in his bright cyan eyes.

The two of you settle across from one another, and you quickly discover that Deuce's request for help was completely genuine. Every few minutes he raises his hand, hesitates, lowers it again, and finally gathers enough courage to ask another question. "I-I'm sorry," he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I know this is probably obvious. I just... don't really get why this formula works."

"You don't have to apologize," you assure him with a gentle smile as you slide a fresh sheet of paper between the two of you. "That's exactly why I'm here. If you already understood everything, you wouldn't need a tutor." Deuce nods earnestly, his expression determined, and immediately returns to copying down your explanation as neatly as he can.

Only a few minutes pass before his pencil stops moving again. He stares at his notes with intense concentration, lips pressed into a thin line as though willing the answer to appear through sheer determination before slowly raising his hand once more. "Um... I'm really sorry, but could you explain this part one more time? I think I almost understood it, but then I got confused again."

"Of course," you reply without hesitation, rewriting the equation more slowly this time while talking him through each step. Deuce listens with complete focus, nodding after every sentence before hurriedly scribbling another page of notes. "...Sorry," he mumbles again out of habit, earning a quiet laugh that escapes before you can catch yourself.

The sound makes Deuce freeze completely. His shoulders shoot up to his ears, and his face immediately turns scarlet as he waves both hands frantically in front of him. "I-I'm sorry!" he blurts out. "I didn't mean to keep apologizing! It's just... it's a habit! I know it's probably annoying!"

"No, no!" you quickly reassure him, shaking your head just as energetically. "I wasn't laughing at you at all. I just think it's sweet how seriously you're taking this. You're working so hard that you're apologizing for asking your tutor to... tutor you." That only succeeds in making him blush even harder, and he lets out a tiny, embarrassed, "O-Oh..." before ducking his head and smiling shyly at his notebook.

The atmosphere relaxes considerably after that. Deuce begins asking questions without quite so much hesitation, and although it takes him a little longer than average to understand the more theoretical concepts, you quickly notice something admirable about him. Once he finally understands an idea, he never forgets it. He attacks every practice problem with complete sincerity, scribbling notes in the margins of his textbook and repeating definitions aloud until he's committed them to memory. There isn't a trace of laziness in him—only someone trying his absolute best.

The classroom door suddenly slides open.

"Ohhh, so this is where you disappeared to."

Both you and Deuce look up at the same time.

A boy with bright orange hair strolls into the room as though he belongs there, hands tucked comfortably into his pockets and an easy grin already spreading across his face. A familiar heart-shaped mark sits beneath one scarlet eye, and before either of you can say anything, he pulls out the empty chair beside Deuce and drops into it.

"Ace?" Deuce blinks. "Your tutoring session isn't until tomorrow."

"I know." Ace shrugs. "I was bored."

"You came to tutoring because you were bored?"

"I wanted to see what all the fuss was about." He rests his chin in one hand and flashes you a cheerful smile. "You're the famous new tutor everyone's talking about, right? Figured I'd check if Deuce was wasting his time."

"I am not wasting my time!"

"Mmm. Jury's still out."

Deuce huffs indignantly before turning back toward you. "Please ignore him."

"I heard that."

"I wanted you to!"

You can't help smiling as the two begin bickering across the table. Their arguments have an oddly practiced rhythm to them, each interruption answered almost instantly by another complaint, yet neither of them seems genuinely upset. If anything, it feels less like a fight and more like watching two brothers who have somehow perfected the art of annoying each other.

Eventually, Ace grows quiet enough to watch the lesson, though "quiet" is a generous description. For several minutes he lounges in his chair with a pencil balanced between his fingers while Deuce painstakingly works through a single practice problem, stopping after nearly every line to erase something or reread the formula. You patiently wait for him to reach the answer on his own, but Ace's expression becomes more exasperated with every passing second until he finally lets out a dramatic sigh. "Deuce," he says, leaning forward onto the desk, "you've been fighting that one problem forever. You're thinking way too hard."

Deuce immediately frowns, clutching his pencil a little tighter. "I'm trying to make sure I understand it," he argues. "If I rush, I'll get the answer wrong." Ace rolls his eyes so hard you're surprised they don't fall out of his head. "It's just a formula. You don't have to interrogate it like it's hiding state secrets." The offended look on Deuce's face deepens, and before long the two freshmen are glaring at each other across the table instead of at the worksheet.

"You're making it more complicated than it is," Ace insists, gesturing vaguely toward the page. "Look, it's basically like... uh..." He pauses just long enough for you to wonder whether he actually has an example before snapping his fingers. "It's like walking through a doorway. You start outside, you go through the door, and then you're inside. That's all the formula's doing." Deuce stares at him for several seconds in complete disbelief before shaking his head. "Ace... that doesn't make any sense."

"It does make sense!"

"No, it doesn't! What does a doorway have to do with magic analysis?"

"You follow the steps in order!"

"A doorway has a single step!"

"Not every doorway!"

The argument escalates so quickly that you barely have time to process it before both boys abruptly stop talking and turn toward you at exactly the same moment. Ace points confidently in Deuce's direction while wearing the unmistakable expression of someone who already assumes he's won. "Tutor-san, tell him I'm right." Deuce folds his arms and gives a single determined nod. "Please tell him that was the worst comparison you've ever heard."

Your smile grows increasingly strained as you look from one expectant face to the other. Remaining neutral suddenly feels far more difficult than explaining magical theory. "Well..." you begin carefully, buying yourself a few precious seconds to think. "I understand what Ace was trying to say. I think he meant that formulas work best when you follow each step in the correct order instead of hesitating after every line."

Ace pumps a fist into the air before you can continue.

"However," you add quickly, raising one finger, "I also think Deuce has a point. Comparing a complex magical equation to... walking through a doorway... isn't the clearest explanation." You offer Ace an apologetic smile. "I appreciate the effort, though."

Deuce lets out a triumphant laugh while Ace drops dramatically against the back of his chair. "See?" Deuce says proudly. "Even Tutor-san thinks your analogy was weird."

"She said the idea was good!" Ace protests immediately. "You just got hung up on the doorway part!"

"I got 'hung up' because it didn't make sense!"

Despite the renewed bickering, you notice something interesting as you glance back toward Deuce's worksheet. While arguing with Ace, he'd absentmindedly finished the practice problem from beginning to end without stopping once. The moment he notices the completed equation, he blinks in surprise before comparing it to the example in his notes.

"...Wait," he murmurs, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "It's right."

Ace smirks without missing a beat. "Yeah, yeah. You're welcome, Juice."

"I am not thanking you for the doorway thing."

"You kind of just did."

For the next twenty minutes, the lesson progresses far more smoothly than before. Deuce asks fewer questions because the analogy finally helps everything click into place, while Ace occasionally tosses out observations that are surprisingly insightful despite insisting he isn't paying attention. Every time he contributes something useful, however, he immediately leans back in his chair and pretends it was completely effortless.

By the time the session ends, Deuce has filled nearly six pages of notes.

He carefully organizes every sheet into his binder before standing and bowing so deeply you worry he'll topple forward. "Thank you very much for today," he says sincerely. "I know I'm a little slow, but... I really want to become an honor student. I'll study everything we covered before our next session."

"I'm looking forward to seeing your progress."

He smiles—a small, earnest smile that reaches his eyes.

"I won't disappoint you."

Ace stands as well, stretching lazily before slinging his school bag over one shoulder. "Guess you weren't half bad," he says with a grin. "Maybe I'll actually show up for my appointment tomorrow instead of ditching."

"...Please don't ditch."

"Heh. We'll see."

Before leaving, he gives you a casual wave and follows Deuce into the hallway, the two already arguing over whose turn it is to carry the extra textbooks. Their voices gradually fade into the distance until the classroom falls silent once again.

You let out a long sigh and begin gathering the scattered worksheets from the desks. It hadn't gone perfectly, but your first tutoring session was over, and neither student had run away crying. Considering everything that had happened over the past two days, you decide that counts as a success.

After Ace and Deuce leave, the classroom settles back into a comfortable silence. You straighten the chairs they had pushed out, gather the loose worksheets scattered across the desk, and carefully stack the remaining practice problems into neat piles for tomorrow's lessons. Your first tutoring session hadn't gone exactly according to schedule, but it had gone well enough that you found yourself smiling as you packed away your supplies.

A familiar chime interrupts your thoughts.

The translucent blue screen materializes in front of your face once again.

𝖫𝖨𝖪𝖤𝖠𝖡𝖨𝖫𝖨𝖳𝖸 ♡ 𝖣𝖾𝗎𝖼𝖾 𝖲𝗉𝖺𝖽𝖾 : 8% ▲ 𝖺𝖼𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 ♡ 𝖠𝖼𝖾 𝖳𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗅𝖺 : 7% ▲ 𝖺𝖼𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾

You blink at the screen, then instinctively look toward the classroom door as though the two freshmen might somehow still be standing there. They had each spent, at most, an hour with you. One of them had apologized every other sentence, and the other had invited himself into someone else's tutoring session just to make sarcastic comments.

"...Already?"

Your eyes drift back to the percentages, and you instinctively pull your pocket watch from your cardigan to check the time, as if that might somehow explain what you were seeing. Eight percent. Seven percent. Those numbers weren't high, but they felt impossibly fast considering you had only just met them.

"I thought affection was supposed to increase over weeks... or months..." you murmur to yourself, mentally flipping through every otome game you could remember. First meetings usually barely moved the meter at all. A point or two, maybe three if the heroine made an especially memorable first impression—but certainly not this.

You stare at the screen for another moment before letting out a small, bewildered laugh.

"...Either tutoring is absurdly overpowered..."

Your rabbit ears twitch thoughtfully.

"...or these boys get attached way too quickly."

MASTERLIST , CHAPTER 01 , CHAPTER 03

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Tag list:

All - @sleepycoffeebug

Your first day as Night Raven College's newest tutor turns out to be significantly less organized than you had imagined. Headmage Crowley spends most of the morning speaking in grand, flowery terms about the importance of education while somehow avoiding every practical question you ask him. Whenever you inquire about scheduling procedures, student records, or designated tutoring spaces, he simply laughs and assures you that a talented young lady like yourself will "figure things out splendidly." By the time the meeting ends, your carefully prepared notebook contains far more decorative signatures than actual instructions.

Fortunately, Professor Crewel proves considerably more helpful. He walks you through the staff offices, explains which classrooms are available after regular lessons, and reminds you that your own well-being is just as important as your students'. Even then, your ears remain pinned anxiously against your head as you scribble down every detail as quickly as possible, terrified that you might forget something important. The thought of making a mistake on your very first day sends your heart racing.

Professor Trein takes one look at your expression and quietly intervenes.

Without saying a word, he reaches into his briefcase and hands you a detailed campus map covered with neatly labeled buildings and pathways. The kindness nearly brings tears to your eyes. "Th-Thank you very much, Professor Trein!" you exclaim, clutching the paper as though it were a priceless artifact. He merely adjusts his jabot and remarks that knowing one's surroundings is essential for maintaining order before Lucius meows in complete agreement from his arms.

By lunchtime, you finally believe that perhaps everything will be manageable.

Then the System appears.

𝖣𝖠𝖨𝖫𝖸 𝖳𝖠𝖲𝖪 𝖠𝖼𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝖺 𝗍𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍. 𝖱𝖾𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽: +50 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗌

The familiar blue window hovers directly in front of your face before fading away a few seconds later. Your stomach twists uneasily. Fifty Thaumarks isn't much, but if the System considers this your first objective as the replacement heroine, then refusing probably isn't an option. Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that tutoring students is perfectly ordinary work. Nothing dramatic will happen.

At least, that's what you tell yourself.

Following Crewel's directions, you eventually find the bulletin board where students are meant to submit tutoring requests. The hallway itself is pleasantly quiet, with sunlight spilling through tall windows and illuminating the polished floors beneath your shoes. A gentle breeze drifts in from an open window somewhere nearby, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass from the courtyard outside.

Then you actually see the request sheet.

Your soul leaves your body.

The paper stapled to the board is practically full.

Dozens of names have already been written in neat rows, some accompanied by preferred subjects, others requesting specific dates and times. A few students have even added little notes in the margins asking for longer sessions or additional help before upcoming exams. You stare at the sheet in absolute horror, your pocket watch nearly slipping from your trembling fingers as you rapidly begin calculating how many hours exist in a single week.

No.

No, no, no.

This is impossible.

You haven't even started working yet.

"Th-There's no way..." you whisper, your rabbit ears flattening against your head. "My schedule... my beautiful, perfectly organized schedule..." The color-coded planner you spent all weekend preparing suddenly flashes through your mind, each carefully arranged block of free time disappearing one by one as more students inevitably continue signing up.

The System, of course, chooses that exact moment to cheerfully notify you of your success.

[𝖲𝖸𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖬 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖨𝖢𝖤] 𝖣𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝖳𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝖢𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾! 𝖱𝖾𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖱𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝖾𝖽: +50 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝖭𝖾𝗐 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝖼𝖾𝗌. 𝖯𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒.

You have a horrible feeling that this is only the beginning.

ㅤㅤ⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼 SPECIAL CG UNLOCK !! ace & deuce — the world's biggest nerd

ㅤ

The hallway outside the library is considerably busier by late afternoon, with students making their way back toward their dormitories after classes have ended. Sunlight pours through the tall windows lining the corridor, casting long golden rectangles across the polished floors while distant conversations echo from somewhere near the main staircase. The newly-posted tutoring sheet has already become a topic of interest, though most students only glance at it in passing before continuing on their way.

"Man, today's Magic Analysis lecture was brutal," Ace groans, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he walks beside Deuce. "Professor Crewel seriously expects us to memorize all those theories? No way."

Deuce's expression immediately darkens at the mention of the class. He hugs his books closer against his chest, shoulders slumping as he lets out a defeated sigh. "I-I know..." he admits quietly. "And mathematics isn't getting any easier, either. I understand practical stuff just fine, but all the formulas and theoretical explanations keep getting mixed up in my head." The thought alone makes his stomach twist. His mother had been so incredibly proud when he received his acceptance letter to Night Raven College, practically crying with happiness as she told everyone in town that her son had turned over a new leaf. If she heard that he was already falling behind in his studies, she'd be heartbroken.

His eyes suddenly land on the paper stapled neatly to the bulletin board.

"Tutoring requests..." he murmurs.

Ace follows his gaze and immediately snorts. "No way. You're actually thinking about signing up?"

Deuce hesitates for only a moment before determination settles across his face. "I mean... yeah. If I need help, I should ask for it, right?" he says, stepping closer to examine the available subjects. "Mom always told me that working hard means admitting when you can't do something alone." His expression softens as he thinks about her proud smile. "I want to become an honors student. I can't just give up because theoretical classes are difficult."

Ace stares at him as though he'd grown a second head.

"...Wow," he says at last. "That's, like, the nerdiest thing I've ever heard in my life."

"What?!"

"Seriously, Deuce! Voluntarily asking for extra studying?" Ace throws his hands into the air dramatically. "Are you actively trying to bore yourself to death, or did Riddle's rules finally break your brain?!"

"I'M TRYING TO BE A GOOD STUDENT, UNLIKE YOU!" Deuce shouts back, his face turning pink as he grabs the pen attached to the board. Ignoring Ace's endless laughter, he carefully writes his name onto the request sheet beneath Magic Analysis and Mathematics before stepping back with a satisfied nod. "There. Done. No matter what, I'm going to improve my grades."

Ace merely shakes his head, still grinning.

"You're such a nerd, dude."

The two eventually continue toward Heartslabyul, their bickering voices growing fainter as they disappear down the corridor. For several moments, the hallway returns to silence, disturbed only by the distant rustling of leaves outside the open windows.

Then Ace comes back.

He stops in front of the bulletin board with his hands in his pockets, staring at Deuce's freshly written name with a thoughtful expression. The idiot had looked so serious about it, acting like signing up for extra studying was some grand declaration of self-improvement. Honestly, Ace didn't understand what the big deal was. It was just tutoring. A normal, ordinary tutoring session.

"...I mean, somebody's gotta see what all the fuss is about," he mutters to himself.

Besides, History of Magic was terrible.

Absolutely terrible.

Professor Trein expected everyone to memorize centuries of names, treaties, historical events, and magical developments that all sounded exactly the same after the first hour of studying. If Ace failed his next exam, the old man would probably stare at him with that disappointed look that somehow felt worse than getting yelled at. It wasn't that Ace needed help, obviously. He was just... conducting research. Gathering information. Seeing whether this mysterious new tutor was actually worth all the excitement, I mean it's not every day you hear Professor Crewel singing someone's praises like he sung yours.

With a small shrug, he grabs the pen attached to the board and quickly writes his name beneath Deuce's.

There.

Nothing weird about that.

If Deuce asked later, Ace would simply tell him that someone had to make sure the tutor was legitimate before letting his hopelessly earnest best friend waste his time. Really, he was doing Deuce a favor. A public service, even.

Completely satisfied with this perfectly reasonable explanation, Ace stuffs his hands back into his pockets and strolls down the hallway with a grin on his face.

He definitely wasn't worried about History of Magic.

...definitely.

MASTERLIST , PROLOGUE , CHAPTER 02

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