Mana Izumi Gal Tutor • Deluxe

“You’ve got this, prez. Remember—the function is just nervous. Be smooth.”

“I don’t understand,” Kaito said, staring at the differential equation like it had personally insulted his ancestors. They were in his family’s sterile, minimalist penthouse. “The limit approaches infinity, but the function… it just breaks.”

Later, as Mana slipped her platform boots back on, Kaito stopped her at the elevator.

“Prove it,” the father said quietly. “Give him a problem. Right now.” Mana Izumi Gal Tutor

Kaito stood up, trembling. “She’s my… tutor.”

Kaito was the student council president. He wore glasses, spoke in perfect keigo (honorific speech), and had a GPA so pristine it could have been encased in museum glass. He was also failing advanced calculus.

Mana smiled, pulled out her pink gel pen, and wrote a single equation on the whiteboard—one so elegant and cruel that it had stumped PhD candidates. Then she handed the pen to Kaito. “You’ve got this, prez

The room went silent.

“Who is this?” the father demanded, looking at Mana’s glittery phone case and bleached hair as if she were a natural disaster.

Kaito took a breath. And for the next fifteen minutes, in front of his disapproving father, he solved it. Step by step. Not as a robot. But as a person who had finally learned to dance with numbers. They were in his family’s sterile, minimalist penthouse

“And you’re about to pass your exam,” she shot back, flashing a peace sign. “Now solve for x like you’re asking it on a date. Be smooth.”

Mana didn’t flinch. She’d heard worse. Instead, she slowly pulled a folded paper from her bag—her own university entrance exam results. She placed it on the marble table. Perfect score. Mathematics. Top 0.1% in the nation.