Chapter 70 - Bread and Cheese

The time for the written test has arrived. Doctor Gremus strides across the lecture hall, his heavy boots tapping against the polished floor as he distributes the exam papers with a practiced motion. The dim glow of the tablets, set to standby, reflects off the cold, sterile desks, waiting for his command. The air is thick with the quiet tension of impending challenge, yet amidst it, Fei and I share a lighthearted exchange, a bubble of warmth in the otherwise nerve-wracking atmosphere.

“Let’s do our best on this exam, Zaft!” Fei exclaims, her bright eyes shimmering with determination as she pumps her fists enthusiastically.

“Yeah, let’s.” I chuckle, leaning back slightly. “I’ll be counting on you to ace this one.”

She tilts her head, laughing. “Whoa, I think you’re overestimating me! If anything, you’ll be carrying me this time, Mister Top 4 of the Licensure Examination Tournament.” Her voice lilts with amusement, her cheerful chuckle carrying a contagious energy.

“Well, if you put it like that…” I murmur, rubbing the back of my neck as a sheepish heat creeps up my face.

Even in this moment, I can feel it—that familiar, piercing sensation of being watched. A cold, unwavering glare that sends an uncomfortable shiver down my spine. It’s not the first time. Every time I share an easy conversation with Fei, someone in the room seems to radiate hostility toward me. I have a strong suspicion it’s Neil. The weight of his resentment is almost tangible, like a silent force pressing against my back.

I don’t blame him. If I were in his shoes, I’d probably be just as bitter. But I wish I could set things straight, tell him I have no romantic interest in Fei, that I’d never betray a friend like that. I’ve tried reaching out—messages left unread, calls ringing into the void. Neil refuses to acknowledge me, locking himself behind an invisible wall of silence. Even Fei, in her usual frankness, told me to stay out of their affairs. So, for now, all I can do is respect that boundary.

“The examination starts now,” Doctor Gremus announces, his voice cutting through the room like a judge delivering a verdict.

With a soft chime, the tablets blink to life, flooding the screen with the first set of problems. The light from the screen casts a faint glow on my hands, and just like that, the world shrinks to equations and numbers, pushing all other thoughts aside.

The tablet screen flickers to life, and within moments, several complex calculus problems flood the interface. A hushed wave of concentration settles over the room as students hunch over their desks, fingers gliding across screens and styluses tapping rhythmically like raindrops against glass. The weight of the exam presses down on us, but for Fei and me, this is nothing new. Just like in our previous written tests, we’ll be sharing our grades with our WAIFU partners.

With a hundred questions to tackle, we’ve already split the workload—an unspoken agreement formed through countless study sessions. I take responsibility for problems 1 to 50, while Fei handles 51 to 100. The division feels natural, effortless. As we work, I can sense how in sync we are, solving equations at nearly the same pace, like two musicians playing in perfect harmony.

Then, I hit a wall. My stylus hovers over the screen as my mind scrambles to recall a crucial formula. I exhale sharply, furrowing my brows.

Navier-Stokes Equation… what was that middle part again? I glance toward Fei, who is diligently solving her set of problems, her lips pursed in thought.

“Fei,” I whisper, leaning slightly toward her. “Do you remember the Navier-Stokes Equation? I kinda blanked out on the middle part.”

“Oh.” Fei blinks, then smiles, a quiet confidence in her expression. “Let me take that one. Let’s swap tablets—you do the rest of mine.”

“Got it.”

In one smooth motion, we exchange our devices and notes. I scan her problems, relieved to find that I can handle them without much difficulty. Meanwhile, Fei, with her sharp intuition for advanced calculus, dives into the equations I struggled with, her stylus gliding across the screen with precision. There's no hesitation in her movements—this is her forte, after all. I trust her completely.

Time slips away as we work, numbers and symbols filling our screens like pieces of a vast, intricate puzzle. Then, after what feels like both an eternity and an instant, the sharp ring of the bell slices through the silence, signaling the end of the exam. I set my stylus down, stretching my fingers as a wave of relief washes over me.

I finish ahead of time, but Fei, ever the perfectionist, takes the last few minutes to meticulously double-check our answers. I watch her briefly, amused by her unwavering focus, before leaning back in my chair. The calculus exam had been grueling, but with Fei by my side, it had felt more like a strategic battle—one we had conquered together.

“Time’s up,” Doctor Gremus announced, his sharp voice cutting through the lingering tension in the room. “Upload your answers.”

A flurry of taps echoed as we submitted our exams. Within seconds, our scores flashed onto our respective tablets. My eyes widened. 100 out of 100. Perfect. Every equation, every derivative, every integral—flawless. It was as if every late-night study session, every painstaking calculation, had led to this moment of absolute precision.

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“Congratulations, Mister Callahan and Miss Xian,” Doctor Gremus said, his usual stern demeanor softening just a fraction. “You two aced the test with a perfect score.” His lips curled into something vaguely resembling a smile—a rare sight, considering his reputation as one of the most feared professors in Orbital Tech.

A wave of cheers erupted around us.

“Wow! Congratulations!” our classmates called out, their voices a mix of admiration and disbelief.

“T-thank you, Doctor.” Fei and I instinctively bowed in unison, the words slipping out at the exact same time. As we straightened, our eyes met, and we couldn’t help but chuckle. It was one of those small, unspoken moments of camaraderie that made everything feel lighter.

Then, almost reflexively, my gaze flickered toward Neil. Was he still glaring daggers at me? But instead of his usual deathly stare, he remained motionless in his seat, eyes fixed elsewhere, completely indifferent to our achievement. His cold silence lingered in the air like a shadow. Still bitter over nothing, huh? It was frustrating. A misunderstanding shouldn’t have led to this unyielding wall between us, but here we were.

Shaking the thought away, I turned my attention to another familiar figure—Myrrh. She sat just a table away from Neil, her expression a portrait of frustration. She ruffled her hair in exasperation, her stylus nearly slipping from her fingers. Beside her, Kian, her new partner, gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, offering a reassuring smile.

I exhaled through my nose, amused. Another tragedy in advanced calculus, huh? Myrrh just couldn’t catch a break with this subject.

Poor bitch.

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The final bell rang, its chime echoing through the lecture hall and signaling the end of the day. A collective rustling filled the air as students began packing their things, the scrape of chairs and the muffled chatter blending into the usual post-class commotion.

Just as I slung my bag over my shoulder, a familiar voice called my name.

“Zaft.”

I turned to see Fei standing there, her hands clasped together in front of her. Her expression was warm, appreciative.

“Thank you for solving my half of the problems earlier,” she said with a polite bow. “I definitely wouldn’t have finished without you.”

I chuckled, waving off her gratitude. “It was just give and take. You covered the formulas I forgot, so I owe you one too.”

Fei grinned, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Good work for both of us then!” She pumped her fists in victory.

“Yeah,” I nodded, sharing in her energy.

A faint buzzing sound broke the moment. Fei blinked and muttered, “Oh,” before pulling out her phone. Her gaze flickered across the screen, her expression shifting from neutral to faintly troubled. After a brief pause, she sighed, tapped the screen to turn it off, and stuffed the device back into her pocket.

“I’d love to hang out and grab something to eat,” she said, frowning slightly. “But I have to take care of some things.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” I replied, waving a hand dismissively. “We can hang out another time.”

Her face lit up again, and she clapped her hands together. “It’s a promise then!”

With that, she slung her shoulder bag over her arm and took a few steps back before giving me one final, cheerful wave.

“Bye-bye!”

“Bye—!”

“Eeek!”

Just as Fei turned to sprint off, her foot snagged against the leg of her own chair. Her balance shattered in an instant, and she pitched forward, arms flailing. Before she could hit the ground, my reflexes took over. I lunged forward, catching her just in time.

Her slim body pressed against my arm, my grip firm enough to keep her steady. But then—oh, no.

A soft sensation against my left hand sent a jolt of panic through me. My brain short-circuited for a second before realization struck like a lightning bolt. Her left breast.

I jerked my hand away like I had touched fire, my heart lurching into my throat. Crap, crap, crap.

“A-are you okay?” I stammered, quickly helping her regain her footing while doing my best to avoid any further accidents. My left hand, now metaphorically tainted, curled behind my back as if hiding it could erase what just happened.

Fei, still flustered, clutched her chest protectively. “I-I’m fine.” A rosy blush bloomed across her cheeks. “T-thank you for that.”

“Y-yeah, I-I’m sorry about…” I trailed off, my words barely escaping my throat. “I swear it wasn’t on purpose.”

For a moment, I braced myself for the worst—a slap, a scolding, or even an accusation. But instead, Fei’s tense expression softened. Her lips curled into a small, understanding smile.

“Ah, no, no. You saved me from face-planting on the floor, so it’s fine,” she said, waving it off. “I’m in a hurry, so I’ll be going now!”

“Oh, uh—take care…” I forced a nervous smile, still feeling the phantom imprint of disaster on my palm.

Without another word, Fei took off again, dashing out of the classroom. Please, just don’t trip again.

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair as the adrenaline slowly ebbed away. That was close. A little too close. If it had been anyone else, I might’ve been branded a pervert on the spot.

As the classroom emptied, a different thought crossed my mind. Why was she in such a hurry, anyway? Despite how well we got along, I realized just how little I actually knew about Fei Xian. Our conversations rarely touched on personal histories, even though we clicked as naturally as bread and cheese.

I sighed, shaking off the lingering awkwardness. One thing at a time. Right now, I was just relieved I had narrowly escaped being labeled a breast-groper.

“Hey, breast-groper.”

A familiar feminine voice, laced with cool amusement.

A cold shiver crept down my spine as I turned my head forward. There stood Myrrh, arms crossed just below her ample chest, her blue eyes glinting with something between mockery and mild disgust.

I stiffened. “It was an accident, I promise!” I shrieked, raising my hands as if to physically ward off an impending execution.

“Pfft.”

Myrrh scoffed, her serious expression cracking like fragile glass. A second later, she broke into a smirk, completely dropping the pretense.

I exhaled in relief, pressing a hand to my chest. “Oh, it’s just you. What’s up?”

Still grinning, Myrrh held up her phone, the screen illuminated with a message I didn’t bother to read. She tapped it lightly with her finger.

“Agent Feena is summoning us to the KAWAII office.”

“Right now?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is it about our internship?”

“Yeah,” Myrrh confirmed, a rare smile tugging at her lips. “She said this will be our first official day as bona fide WAIFUs and support unit.”