(a.k.a. Genya Shinazugawa’s After-Exam Doom)
Scene: The Shinazugawa household. Evening.
The sun has set. Crickets chirp.
But inside the house… a storm brews.
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Genya: (sneaking in quietly, holding his bag like it’s a bomb)
Maybe… maybe Nemi didn’t see my results yet… maybe he—
Sanemi: (voice from the next room)
GENYA SHINAZUGAWA!
Genya: (freezes mid-step)
He saw it. He definitely saw it. 💀
Sanemi: (storms in holding the report sheets like death warrants)
YOU GOT A NINETY-FIVE IN CIVICS.
A NINETY-ONE IN BIOLOGY.
A NINETY IN CHEMISTRY.
AND A 50....50, GENYA—IN MATHS?!
Genya: (defensive)
That’s actually an improvement! Last time I got a 42!
Sanemi: (gritting teeth)
Oh, improvement, he says!
Tell me, O brilliant scholar of every subject BUT MATH,
how did you pull an A in physics under Akaza—
BUT when it comes to my class, your brain DIES like a candle in the wind?!
Genya: (mumbling)
Because physics makes sense… Math doesn’t.
Sanemi: (offended to his core)
EXCUSE ME?!
WHAT DO YOU MEAN “MATH DOESN’T MAKE SENSE”?
MATH IS SENSE!!
(Sanemi slams the report sheet on the table so hard a pen explodes.)
Genya: (wiping ink from his face)
Nemi… you broke the pen. Again.
Sanemi: (ignores him, pacing like a mad tiger)
How—how can you remember every nerve cell from Kanae's bio notes,
but can’t factor a simple quadratic equation?
Genya: (quietly)
Because quadratics have trauma energy.
Sanemi: (turns sharply)
WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!
Genya: (nervous)
Nothing! Just that—uh—numbers… attack me emotionally.
Sanemi: (vein bulging)
NUMBERS DON’T ATTACK YOU, YOU ATTACK LOGIC!
(Lightning flashes outside. The entire neighborhood senses danger.)
---
[Meanwhile, from across the street]
Rengoku: (peeking from window)
Ah! The Shinazugawa house thunderstorm has begun again!
Truly, sibling bonds forged in FIRE!
Tomioka (just passing his time in Kyojuro's house) : (calmly drinking tea)
He’s grading again.
Rengoku: (grinning)
How can you tell?
Tomioka:
The earthquake magnitude matches Sanemi’s anger scale.
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[Back inside]
Sanemi: (still ranting)
You can name every part of the digestive system but can’t digest a single algebraic expression!!
Genya:
That’s because they don’t belong in the same stomach, Nemi!
Sanemi: (slams desk)
YOU WANNA TEST ME?! I’LL MAKE YOU SOLVE EVERY PROBLEM FROM EXERCISE 8C RIGHT NOW!
Genya: (visibly dying inside)
I haven’t even eaten dinner yet—
Sanemi:
GOOD! MATH IS YOUR DINNER!
(He tosses a textbook the size of a brick onto the table.)
Genya: (dodges)
Bro! That’s attempted murder with decimals!
Sanemi:
Sit. Down.
Now solve question 5.
Genya:
Which one’s 5—oh no it’s that one—NOOO—
Sanemi:
(x= ?!)
Genya:
Uh… 7?
Sanemi:
It’s –3.
Genya: (weakly)
That’s what I meant emotionally.
(Sanemi’s soul leaves his body.)
---
[Ten minutes later…]
Sanemi: (exhausted, pacing)
How… are you my brother?
Genya: (quietly)
Genetics.
Sanemi: (snaps pencil in half)
WRONG ANSWER!
Sanemi:
You know what? You’re grounded from everything except the math textbook.
Genya: (horrified)
Even dinner?!
Sanemi:
Especially dinner.
You’re gonna EAT these equations until you taste numbers.
Genya:
That’s… not how learning works…
Sanemi:
IT IS NOW!
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[Later that night…]
(Genya sits at his desk, surrounded by pages of algebra, eyes hollow.)
Genya: (whispering to himself)
This is it… this is my villain origin story.
When they find my body, tell them the “math” got me.
(Door creaks open — Sanemi walks in quietly.)
Sanemi: (softly, holding a plate)
…Eat something, idiot. You’ll pass out.
Genya: (surprised)
Wait, you’re not mad anymore?
Sanemi: (sighs)
I’m always mad. But… you did good, Genya.
You worked hard. Even if your math’s trash.
Genya: (smiling faintly)
Thanks, Nemi.
Next time… I’ll get 60.
Sanemi: (grinning dangerously)
Make it 70 or I’ll throw you into a math book.
Genya:
…Worth a try.
(They eat together in silence — the peace brief, but real. Outside, the crickets resume chirping… terrified.)
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