The night air hung cool and expectant as I left the familiar corridors of Yūgen Academy. Whispered echoes of classroom discussion mingled with faint trails of chalk dust, lingering like ghosts on blackboards. Outside, the campus lay shrouded in shadow; dim hallway lights flickered like distant stars, and the stillness seemed to hold its breath. From the music clubroom in another building, the gentle whisper of brass instruments drifted through the windows, mingling with the distant thuds from the stadium and sports field. Still, beneath my feet in the parking lot, only the soft rustling of leaves broke the vast quiet. Each step toward the parking lot carried an unspoken tension, as if the darkness itself awaited some hidden truth. In the hush following the clubroom's fading clamor, memories surfaced — the elegant ease of Kisaragi's method, my own faltering solution, and the quiet promise entrusted to me by Hoshino-sensei.
What kind of office slave am I, pulling overtime in week one? I thought, smirking to myself.
Before I could dwell too long on my thoughts, a white luxury grand tourer pulled up. Its polished exterior and bold, athletic lines made it clear this was no ordinary ride. Its tinted windows blocked out the world beyond, yet the warm glow from within was unmistakable.
The driver's door swung open, revealing Hoshino-sensei at the wheel, a rare sight outside the familiar classroom setting.
"Kanzaki-kun, hop in," she said, her voice as composed and gentle as ever.
As I stepped in, the interior greeted me with the rich, inviting scent of fine leather and an unmistakable, delicate hint of her fragrance.
"Hoshino-sensei, are you certain about dinner outside campus? Wouldn't a private time after class cause a scandal"
She chuckled, her reply light yet deliberate: "It'll sure be a problem, this is exactly why I'm bribing you with food to keep quiet."
The unexpected humor broke the tension, and a genuine laugh escaped me. It was a moment of playful banter that deepened the bond between us.
As the car merged smoothly into the night, city lights began to scatter like jewels across the rearview mirror. We drove through winding streets lined with modest trees and aged buildings, a contrast to the sleek modernity of the car's design.
"You know Hoshino sensei, I almost refused your invitation just now before deciding to accept."
"Oh, there's no need for such formality between us. Take it easy. I'm impressed, you picked up Kyoto custom remarkably quickly"
"Well, I learned the hard way during a school trip when I was a junior high student visiting Kyoto. I don't think I'll ever forget it."
"Eee, what about it "
"So, my friend and I finished lunch at this traditional place, and we chatted for a bit. The host kindly asked if we wanted some tea "
"Oh, you guys took the offer ?"
"Nah, even worse. My friend asked if they had Calpis instead…"
"Pffff...hahahahaha, what a fun…funny pair of rebels…hahahaha"
"The host showed an incredibly annoyed face"
Hoshino sensei continued to burst out of laughter.
"Hahaha… Sounds like a memory worth cherishing. Oh well, You don't have to worry about Toomawashi in the club. The club is meant to be a safe sanctuary for freedom and comfort. I wouldn't want to complicate the trust issue further"
Hoshino-sensei adjusted the radio, letting a soft classical piece fill the silence. For a while, the hum of the engine and the gentle strains of music allowed my mind to wander.
"By the way, Kanzaki-kun, today in the clubroom I sensed your determination and a hint of unease."
I hesitated briefly, then confessed. "I sometimes wonder if my clumsy efforts can ever measure up to the elegance we expect. The weight of our club's past achievements feels slightly heavy". Her knowing smile met my self-critical admission.
"Every mathematician's journey is uniquely personal. The bumps along the way make the breakthrough all the more meaningful, its missteps — is just as valuable as the final answer."
She glanced at the rearview mirror, her eyes softening as she steered through a curve. "Our legacy carries both brilliance and its share of mistakes, it's through these trial and errors, the failures that we learn to value true innovation and passion. What matters is not the absence of error but the courage to rebuild."
Her words echoed. As we drove away from familiar grounds, I felt a budding resolve: to create something new, to help restore not just the club's spark but also to embrace the challenge of discomfort. The car picked up speed, the engine's soft roar filling the quiet, and the rapid acceleration pressed me back into my seat. I gazed out the window, checking the evening scenery.
"Oh, we're on the Daini Keihan Expressway now"
"Yup, fast and clean"
"This road really feels like a lifeline connecting the quieter southern parts of Kyoto, like from our academy, to the bustling heart of the city. I'm guessing we're trying to avoid the tourist crowds, and heading to the Pontocho area ?"
"Good guess! Yes, we're actually heading toward Gion district. The expressway was built to bypass those old, congested routes, making travel faster and smoother. It also serves to connect Osaka and Kyoto more efficiently. You can think of it as a high-capacity edge in Kyoto's road network graph."
"That's what fascinates me. Kyoto's streets, especially around Gion, are centuries old, narrow lanes, historic houses, and countless small intersections. It's like a complex planar graph layered over these modern highways."
"Exactly. In theory, the expressway acts like a low-weight edge, meaning it's fast and easy to travel. The historic streets have higher weights because they're narrow and often crowded with tourists."
"And those weights aren't fixed. Evening crowds, festivals, or sudden rain can change traffic flow dramatically. So, the 'weights' on the graph's edges actually change over time."
"That's right. This makes finding the best route a time-dependent shortest path problem, where algorithms need to adapt in real time to changing conditions."
"Also, I was thinking about Gion's maze, like alleys. If we wanted to explore every street without repeating any path, that's an Eulerian trail problem. But with so many intersections connecting an odd number of streets, a perfect Eulerian circuit probably doesn't exist."
"Correct. That's where the Chinese Postman Problem comes in. It helps find the minimal set of streets you'd need to travel twice to cover all roads efficiently."
"From a local's perspective, avoiding the main tourist-packed streets in the evening is like assigning very high weights to those edges, which forces the route to favor quieter back alleys."
"A beautiful blend of cultural insight and mathematical modeling. Afterall, Kyoto's road network is a living graph, shaped by history, people, and technology. Truly a harmonic urban"
Hoshino sensei added
"That was an interesting observation. Civil engineers don't usually talk in terms of graph theory though. They rely more on spatial data and traffic simulations. But your analogy holds. When modeling urban flow or optimizing routes, those same principles show up under different names. They take pi = 3 afterall."
"Pi equals 3?! I didn't realize they were anti-circlists."
For a while, our conversation yielded to a comfortable silence punctuated by soft strains of classical music softly emanating from the car's sound system. The street lights flickered across the car's dashboard as I allowed my thoughts to settle on her words.
Before long, the car slowed as we parked in a quiet alley.
"Kanzaki-kun. Come, let's walk"
We reached a distinguished building bathed in soft amber lights. "Ginchou Yakiniku" the sign read, its elegant script promising a feast of both flavor and refinement. The modern glass façade blended seamlessly with hints of traditional Japanese design, discreet wooden carvings, subtle lanterns and a quiet dignity that reminded me of our academy's own blend of heritage and innovation.
As I trailed behind her through the quiet botanic garden and corridor, a well-dressed attendant offered a courteous nod and said "Okoshiyasu, Hoshino-sama, O-machi mōshiagete orimashita."
The ambient light bathed the space in a gentle glow, and I noticed that Hoshino-sensei had changed her lab coat for a sleek trench coat layered over a dark, tailored sleeveless turtleneck, complemented by graceful trousers and polished heels. The soft illumination traced the curve of her smile and the effortless poise in her stance, transforming the stern authority I knew into an almost untouchable radiance. For a fleeting moment, I forgot to breathe, she embodied elegance itself, edged with a subtle intensity that quickened my pulse.
The attendant smoothly took our shoes and coat, placing them carefully out of sight. Sensei slipped off her sleek heels with effortless grace. As she bent down to pull on the clean, pristine socks she had thoughtfully brought, I couldn't help but catch a quick glimpse at her foot. Pale and flawless, with toenails gleaming softly in the ambient light. There was something quietly captivating about the delicate arch and subtle tension in the slender muscles in her foot, as if every movement was a silent delicate dance.
My cheeks warmed as I shifted my gaze, but the image lingered—a blend of elegance and allure. It was a small, intimate moment, but it made my heart skip—here was the same woman who commanded the classroom with authority, now revealed in a delicate, almost vulnerable light. Meanwhile, I simply stepped forward, already wearing my own socks, feeling the cool tatami beneath my feet and the weight of the moment settling around us.
—
We entered an intimate private dining room, its custom lighting casting a soft glow. Luxurious furnishings created an atmosphere of high-class privacy. A lacquered table awaited us, and her presence calmed my anticipation. We sat, and an attendant handed us warm towels to wipe our hands. I followed her movements, mindful not to falter in such a refined setting.
Before any words mingled with the aroma of grilled meats, an attendant presented the menu, a catalog of culinary art — A5 Wagyu beef, seasonal sides imbued with heritage. Hoshino-sensei ordered the premium Ginchou course for two without hesitation.
"Kanzaki-kun, is there anything else you would like ?" She asked.
"Not at all… I'll have whatever you order. It's more than enough." I added sincerely, "I'll do my best to treat you somewhere just as nice one day, I promise."
She teased, "You'll need more than Wagyu to impress me next time, Kanzaki-kun." With a playful grin, she added, "Hmmm, I'll have two Yuzu-Calpis soda, please!"
She stared at me vibrantly, "I'll make sure you'll also have a positive Calpis memory of Kyoto"
"It'll be an integral of my best memories"
The meal began with an artful assortment of namul and kimchi. The namul, with its subtle, seasoned layers of garlic, sesame, and delicate salt, whispered of the academy's intricate dynamics.
In contrast, the familiar kimchi delivered a sharp, fermented tang that pierced my senses, a bitter echo of my past. Where I ate kimchi with soy-sause and rice every day in my old town just to save money. As I took a bite, Hoshino-sensei's gaze lingered.
"You know, during my postgraduate studies, I once delivered a presentation so wildly off-course that my professor wryly dubbed it 'a culinary disaster of logic,'" she said, popping some namul sprout into her mouth.
"I had devoted weeks to a theorem, only to realize halfway through my presentation that I had fundamentally misread the axioms. At that moment, I wished the floor would open beneath me."
I laughed, leaning forward. "No way. What did you do?"
"I also laughed," she said, her tone warm, self-deprecating. "Right there, in front of the whole lecture hall. It was that or cry, and I had already burned through my tears on the draft."
She winked, and I caught a glimpse of the woman behind the teacher — someone who'd stumbled and kept going.
"It was humbling," Hoshino-sensei said thoughtfully, "but honestly, it made the whole room more engaged. Even the greats like Cauchy and Hilbert stumbled—Cauchy's mistaken proof about continuous functions actually paved the way for the concept of uniform convergence. And Hilbert's grand ambition to solve all arithmetic problems was famously upended by Gödel's incompleteness theorems."
Her gaze drifted into the distance, reflective and distant.
I nodded, a bit reassured by the thought of such monumental errors from giants. "Without your teaching, I would have failed math miserably back in junior school. I just couldn't connect with my old math teacher's approaches. I still remember the day we first met, you inspired me to see math differently. Honestly, I'm grateful to have met you."
A warm grin spread across her face. "That's resilience and courage, Kanzaki-kun. You didn't give up, and that's the most important part. It's a shame that standard math education often follows a one-size fits all approach. Many people don't discover their own mathematical language until much later, and by then, they've already given up."
She paused, then added softly, "Math isn't just about getting the right answers; it's about wrestling with ideas, stumbling, and sometimes making mistakes that open new doors. Even the biggest disasters in math history—like the Mars Climate Orbiter crash caused by a simple unit conversion error, remind us how deeply human this pursuit really is."
The grill's smoky heat brushed my face, the premium green onion salted tongue met the grill with a sharp sizzle, filling the room with a savory promise. The raw intensity of the dish felt like an unvarnished truth revealed, and I took it upon myself to grill for Hoshino-sensei. As I flipped the tender slices, my voice took on a subtle shift.
"I've noticed something about the math research club. When I slipped through my tongue and mentioned math competition, club members seemed to be shocked and surprised."
"Oh, you are fast on track…"
Hoshino-sensei's chopsticks paused, her gaze sharpening like a well-honed blade.
"You're sharp, Kanzaki-kun. That tremor isn't just nerves. It's memory, carved into our bones. For Kisaragi, perhaps emotional numbing, or flashbacks to past trauma she couldn't move on. Kisaragi's a prodigy, but she's always alone. I imagine her family expects perfection, but never asks what it costs her. It hurts me deeply to watch her like that… It's a reminder that even the most brilliant minds can be haunted by their inner lives. She's carrying something heavier than those medals."
Her observation resonated deeply with me.
"It makes me wonder if her impeccable precision is partly a shield—a way to mask pain that she'd rather not share. We wear our difficulties in different ways, don't we?"
My voice is imbued with the memory of nights spent alone with my textbooks, struggling against financial hardship and self-doubt.
"Kisaragi's mind is fractal, brilliant, recursive, but even fractals crack under pressure. Chaos slips through when you're not looking."
Fractals. Order in chaos. I chewed the salty, tender tongue, my thoughts spiraling. Kisaragi's and Hoshino sensei's hiding something, and that notebook could be the key.
"You were the club advisor right, what exactly happened ?" I asked, testing the waters.
Her smirk was sly, as if she harbored secrets she chose not to share. "I like the type to poke at the unknown, solving problems ! You should delve into the library archives and uncover what has transpired at the school over the past, especially the last nine months."
"Guess I am," I said, a spark of defiance flaring. "Just hope I don't blow anything up."
The drinks arrived — golden, effervescent, with a refreshing citrus flavour.
"About the arrangement… As you probably already knew. I want you to connect with the club members and their world. Rebuild everything from scratch. After all, the moonlight needs a night sky to bloom brightest !"
"Hmmm. member 's' ?"
"Oh yea, there are more problematic kids" She smiled slyly
"Oh well, I eat problems for breakfast afterall."
I seriously owe her a lot. And I guess I'll be the caretaker of the problematic kids
"Oh, my sweet heart. That's what I like about you, Kanzaki-kun !!"
As Hoshino-sensei savored the crisp, citrusy brightness of the drink, its lively sparkle cut through the evening's quiet tension like Hoshino-sensei's knowing smile.
The faint buttery aroma of marbled wagyu drifted from the grill, heralding the next course.
Special wagyu beef (salt-grilled) with takikomi gohan. Its marbled richness sizzling on the grill, each bite a layered depth of flavor. It mirrored the club's tangled emotions
A5 Wagyu ? Back home, luxury was a vending machine sandwich. And I found myself reflecting on the hard working days in a back alley clinic — having no money to buy food, struggling to pay rent. Right, I have a part-time shift tomorrow evening.
I listened, stirred not only by the presentation of flavors before me but also by the transformative passion in her words. The taste of takikomi gohan, the careful layering of ingredients, mirrored the process of building a new legacy from the remnants of the old.
"Just as each grain of rice contributes to the harmony of the dish, each experience, pleasant or painful, contributes to who we become. My job is to resemble those pieces into something greater than the sum of its parts."
As I savored a bite that melted effortlessly on my tongue, Hoshino-sensei's hand gently cupped her cheek, voice dropped to a soft murmur of blissful pleasure. "Ummmm, delicious, what a true blessing to be alive !"
"You're asking questions nobody else dares. That's your edge."
My edge. The words sank in as I savored the wagyu, its richness grounding me. Maybe I'm not Kisaragi, but I've got something — curiosity, maybe grit. Enough to dig into this mess.
The sizzle of the marbled wagyu faded, replaced by the rich aroma of sirloin hitting the grill – the premium sirloin grilled sukiyaki style with bright red egg yolk marked a shift. The yolk's vivid hue coating the meat in golden warmth. I dipped a piece, my voice softening. "That logbook… Kisaragi wasn't just mad when I touched it. She was scared. Like it could unravel her."
Hoshino-sensei nodded, her expression softening too, though her eyes held a guarded depth. "Fear's a hidden variable—it skews the whole system. Proofs, people, promises. I've seen students crumble under less. But you, Kanzaki-kun. You're not afraid to chase the unknown, aren't you?"
"Maybe I should be"
She caught my drift, her smile sly as she dipped her sirloin. "Oh, it'll bite back. That's the fun part."
As the ice slowly melted in my glass, softening the sharpness of the drink, the special wagyu (sauce-grilled) brought a new layer, the bold sauce redefining the meat's flavor.
"Yūgen's a pressure cooker," she said, brushing sauce with care."A pressure cooker where brilliance is forged, but spirits sometimes break. You've seen it, haven't you? Students crumble under expectations, some disappearing entirely. "Elite kids, elite stakes. But pressure forges diamonds — or breaks them. Kisaragi's proof of that."
I nodded, thinking of her trembling hand. "She's a diamond, alright. But even diamonds have flaws."
"Exactly," she said, her voice warm with approval. "And flaws make them unique. You see that in people, not just proofs. That's why I think you'll shake things up."
The Wrapped Vegetables came next, their crisp layers peeling back like secrets. The meat's rich flavors unfurled slowly, revealing hints of sweet umami and the smoky whisper of charred wood. The accompanying medley of seasonal vegetables, vibrant and crisp, added a refreshing contrast that elevated the dish to pure artistry.
A soft sigh escaped me. "School life here's absurd," I said, unwrapping one. "Given Yugens' resources and support systems, somehow students still lead to high rates of anxiety, depression, and burnout, an absurd paradox."
She added "The intense pressure to outperform peers often fosters ruthless competition. Students sometimes engage in subtle or overt backstabbing—undermining others' work, hoarding resources, or sabotaging reputations, it is truly absurd."
I paused, then asked, "Sensei, do you think natural selection really applies in institutions or society as a whole? You know, only the strong survive right ?"
Hoshino-sensei paused for a short contemplation, delicately nibbling on a vegetable. "Survival's overrated. Imagine you're in a tennis competition, and your opponent has a heart attack. Would you just ignore him and keep playing? The right attitude isn't to simply survive or beat others. It's to thrive together, to collaborate."
She paused, her eyes gleaming with quiet conviction. "For example, numerical evidence suggests strategies based on reciprocity and conditional cooperation often outperform purely selfish behavior, highlighting the importance of trust, reputation, and repeated interactions in fostering cooperation. You're already doing it — choking on Calpis and all."
I laughed, the tension easing from my shoulder.
Her words resonate deeply with me. The notion wasn't abstract or difficult to grasp, yet society and nations have repeatedly failed to live by it. Endless wars, the delusion of zero-sum games, bullying the weak. Somehow, history insists on repeating itself.
"Atlas, I wish you could lecture our great politicians"
"By then, I might be waiting in a quiet place, hoping for your offering."
"Oh please, don't say that. I'd be in despair…"
"You never know — tomorrow… or an accident might come. Live in the present, okay? Kanzaki-kun." She looked distant again.
You're quite young yourself… Maybe I shouldn't mention about age in front a woman afterall
A gentle clink of glass interrupted my thoughts as ice water was poured, refreshing the palate.
From the meal options, I chose cold noodles, their cool strands a balm for my racing thoughts. She picked kaki chawanmushi, its silky warmth and delicate oyster richness suiting her fiery edge. With a careful hand, she passed a few oysters my way, a sly smile playing on her lips.
"Young man needs more oysters!" she teased.
"We all need an anchor," she added, sipping the broth. She paused, allowing the tumult of flavors and memories to settle between us. "I have seen many students, brilliant as they are, lose their way in the pursuit of perfection. True enlightenment emerges when we allow ourselves to be imperfect, to question, to revisit and reinterpret the foundations upon which we built our dreams."
Between bites and shared glances, I felt a stirring resolve. I murmured. "I want to contribute to an environment where even a misstep is seen as a stepping stone toward something brilliant. I'd like to see our club not just as a collection of trophies or accolades, but as a living testament to our journey—a mosaic of passion, error, and eventual triumph." I want to chase Kisaragi Akari's talent, her perfection and elegant mathematics.
As our main course gradually gave way to the soft clatter of dishes being cleared. The tsujiri matcha ice cream closed the meal, its bittersweet richness coating my tongue.
"Solving problems is like this," I said, spooning a bite. "Sweet when you crack it, bitter when you're stuck. I want the club to feel that sweetness again." Her eyes softened, proud. "That's the spirit, Kanzaki-kun. Build something real and meaningful !." With each spoonful, I felt the layers of the dessert mirror the layers of our lives: moments of quiet beauty intermingled with flashes of bittersweet memories.
I recalled the precise moment in the clubroom when I had offered my clumsy substitution on the Gamma function, and Kisaragi's graceful correction had shone like a beacon. "My journey," I confessed, "has always been about wrestling with problems until, eventually, they reveal their secrets. And though I sometimes feel like I'm digging trenches with a spoon, I sense that every struggle refines my understanding."
She nodded, her expression one of quiet pride. "That is exactly why I chose you, Kanzaki-kun. Not because you have all the answers, but because you are fearless in your pursuit of them. It is the courage to ask the wild questions—questions that challenge the norms—that will set the Math Research Club or the world on a new course."
Over steaming cups of Ippodo tea, we sat enveloped in a serene silence, the earthy warmth steadying my hands. Hoshino-sensei rested her eyes briefly, a satisfied smile softening her graceful features, as the quiet comfort of the moment settled gently between us.
Build - Not just the club, but Kisaragi's trust, the team's heart. I don't know what's in that logbook, but I'll find out.I will need to find ways to approach Kisaragi and the rest of the members. How many more will Yūgen break? I can't let the club be another casualty. The thought was a quiet ember, glowing brighter with each sip.
The attendant entered the room and showed her utmost hospitality, and asked:
"Thank you for sharing your valuable time with us today, Hoshino-sama. Did the meal suit your taste?"
No one had ever asked me that before, this is an eye opening experience. Hoshino Akina, who on earth are you ? I thought you're just a teacher….
"Everything was wonderful! Thank you for the excellent service. Actually, I would like to refer this young man a membership as well"
"If it's through Hoshino-sama's introduction, we welcome them with confidence."
I crawled up to Hoshino-sensei and whispered.
"Are you sure ?! I don't really need it, this place is too grand for someone like me…"
"Oh my, don't worry, they have a private tea room café open from morning till evening, where you can read and study in peace."
"This is way too far from the Academy dormitory though"
"Nope, you'll need it very soon"
What are you planning… you sly fox…
"Well, if you say so..."
The attendant carefully presented us with a delicate bag of sweets and luxuries. Hoshino sensei handed me the handwritten card.
Kyoto truly boasts the finest craftsmanship; the exquisite design and quality left a man like me utterly overwhelmed
"Here, take this. You can freely enter this place from now on"
"No, Hoshino-sama, I can't take this"
Hoshino sensei and the attendant burst into gentle laughter. We wrestled over it three times and I finally took Hoshino's sensei offer.
I feel like a proper Miyako no hito now
Eventually, the time came to part ways for the night. The attendant's demeanor was both gentle and resolute as she escorted us out of the restaurant and parking lot.
"This might sound boring, but thank you very much again, Hoshino-sensei. I had fun and learnt a lot today"
"Oh, no worries. I had fun too, a private dinner with someone so handsome. I'm very full"
"Well, I suppose stars and moonlight bloom brightest and prettiest against the night sky after all."
She paused for a moment and looked at me. Then, she slipped her arm through mine. "Oh, you sinner, I bet the meal was greased with a little too much charm"
Her fragrance mingled with a smoky note and a hint of spice. She's dangerously close and a little too 'spicy'
The cool night air greeted us once again as we made our way back to the polished grand tourer. Its doors open as an invitation to carry the night's revelations and spicy aroma back to my room.
Oh, I just noticed the seatbelt elegantly extends toward me when I sit down, fancy stuff. I am really loving this car.
During the drive back through quiet streets awash with moonlight and stars, I replayed every word of our conversation. The lessons of the evening—of artful resilience, of beauty emerging through imperfection, of a legacy pieced together from both triumphs and mistakes—wove together into a transformative tapestry that illuminated my path ahead. Yet beneath this clarity, a quiet worry took root.
What burdens had driven Kisaragi Akari to the edge ? I should also apologize to her again tomorrow when I have the chance.
As we neared the academy, Hoshino-sensei spoke softly, "Kanzaki-kun, Goodnight. And please keep our secret date quiet !"
I glanced at her in the rearview mirror; the lamplight caught the quiet strength in her eyes.
"I understand, sensei. Thanks for the extravagance and the overtime. The dinner was full enough for a secret!"
She chuckled softly, and I imagined her thinking — Mission accomplished.
Her car vanished into the darkness with a rumble of the engine, swallowed by the night as I stood alone at Yūgen's dormitory main entrance. The campus loomed before me like a puzzle waiting to be solved. Tonight wasn't just a meal—it was a spark. The club's history, the problematic members, the notebook's story. They were all pieces of a larger equation.
With the flavors of the premium Ginchou course and Hoshino-sensei's words burning in my chest, I stepped forward, ready to unravel the hidden variables of our past and forge a future worth fighting for.
I really like Kyoto. I'm slowly falling in love with this harmonious city. The hospitality isn't as bad as people say — just be smart and learn the culture beforehand. Make sure you politely decline the tea, and I guarantee your enjoyment.
As I lay in bed, sleep crept in, twisting those thoughts into something darker, more surreal…