Nakano Miku was the last to arrive in the living room. Once she sat down, Ichika—half-reclined on the couch—lifted her eyelids lazily. "So, he got to you too?"
"If you don't mind, please pick a better phrase," Miku replied evenly.
"Hah, even you gave in? Guess my theory was right—he must've planned this ages ago," Ichika said, voice dripping with languid amusement.
Yotsuba, meanwhile, was the complete opposite. When Nino had called her earlier, she'd bounded happily into the living room with pen and paper ready. Her grades might've been awful, but she genuinely enjoyed studying with her sisters.
"I don't know if he planned it," Miku said, glancing briefly at the neatly seated Yotsuba, "but he did say that if we find today boring or unpleasant, we can tell him directly and he'll never come again."
"Huh?" Ichika froze, sitting up straight.
Yotsuba blinked in surprise. "No way—Shirase-kun said that?"
"Yes," Miku nodded.
Even Ichika looked genuinely surprised. "That doesn't sound right. He's not the type to give up easily. Why would he say that out of nowhere?"
"Are you implying he lied to me?" Miku frowned slightly.
"I doubt it," Ichika said, thinking quickly. "He invited you specifically, so he must be serious. Otherwise, with his smarts, he could've just won you over with matcha desserts or tea. That would've worked better—but it wouldn't be sincere."
Miku clenched her small fists. "Then what is he thinking? Whether our grades improve or not isn't his problem. He didn't have to make that kind of promise."
"Could Dad have said something to him in secret?" Yotsuba suggested innocently.
Both Ichika and Miku paused. "…That's possible."
At the hospital, Nakano Maruo suddenly sneezed. Unaware of the conversation, he had no idea a huge black pot of blame had just landed on his head.
"Oh, right—Nino said Shirase-kun's staying to make lunch for us today," Yotsuba said cheerfully, instantly perking up.
Even she couldn't resist the mention of good food.
Miku added, "He also said he'd make desserts. Maybe this time he'll make more so we don't have to fight over them."
"Hao ye!" Yotsuba cheered, pumping her fists.
Ichika only smiled, thoughtful this time. She kept mulling over Miku's words: 'He'll never come again.'
From what she knew of Shirase, he'd never joke about something like that—it wasn't his style.
Could "never again" just mean… for now?
Her eyes widened slightly as realization struck.
She suddenly recalled something Yukinoshita Yukino had said recently when Ichika was pestering her: "If I'm being honest, I never thought I was much smarter than any of you. If you used your brain regularly, stayed observant, and paid attention to the details, you could do what I do."
Ichika smiled faintly. If that's true, Shirase, you'd better figure out how to calm Miku down later. She's pretty scary when she's mad, you know?
...
At 11:20 a.m., Shirase finally set down his chalk and the small blackboard he'd brought.
"Let's stop here for now. You're all hungry, right?"
His gaze swept gently across the quintuplets. Each one looked away quickly, unable—or unwilling—to meet his eyes.
There were plenty of reasons: embarrassment, guilt, something else entirely. Even Ichika, usually composed and confident, was no exception.
Before the lesson, only Yotsuba had looked genuinely excited. Even Itsuki, who'd accepted plenty of favors from him, hadn't been too optimistic.
But as the session went on, their expressions shifted—bit by bit.
Shirase's way of teaching was nothing like their school teachers'. With only five students, he didn't need to spread himself thin.
And yet, during that short lesson, all five sisters had the same strange thought: Why does he feel like he knows us too well?
Ichika, who'd assumed she'd never focus seriously on studying again, now sat up straight, eyes dazed but focused.
"You all look like you have questions," Shirase said calmly. "Don't hold them in."
Ichika exhaled softly, regaining her usual composure and smile. "Actually, I do have one. It's been bothering me."
The other four nodded without hesitation, clearly thinking the same thing.
Shirase lifted a hand, signaling her to continue.
Ichika met his gaze directly. "Why do I feel like you understand me a little too well? It's like you know my personality inside out—down to which subjects I'm worst at and which I'm fastest to grasp."
"I feel the same!" Yotsuba chimed in immediately, confusion written all over her face.
Nino crossed her arms. "Shirase, have you been secretly watching us at school?"
"Not just watching," Miku added sharply. "I bet he's been taking notes—recording our habits and summarizing them in some creepy notebook."
Then she gave him a flat look. "That's exactly what a stalker would do."
Shirase only smiled, saying nothing.
Itsuki tilted her head, hesitant. "But we've never noticed Shirase-kun investigating us at school, right?"
"Yeah, yeah! I didn't notice anything either," Yotsuba said, wide-eyed and genuinely impressed. "How did you do it? When you were teaching just now, I actually understood the material!"
"That's probably just the benefit of specializing," Shirase said mildly.
Of course, he couldn't tell them the truth—that he'd spent the past few days using [Immersive Hosting] and selecting each of the quintuplets as virtual tutors in turn.
They hadn't actually helped him academically, but through that process, he'd learned every detail of their strengths, weaknesses, and thought patterns.
That was why, when he arrived today, he felt unshakably confident.
For Shirase, tutoring the Nakano quintuplets was like taking an open-book exam where all the answers were laid out in front of him.
All he had to do—was copy them down.