Chapter 55: Actually, There Are Two Kinds of “Study Groups”

After coordinating our schedules, we decided that whenever all four of us were free—or on days when only Taketsuru happened to be working part-time—we would set aside dedicated study time for Kuwajima.

To be fair, I figured that if it came down to it, just Kuwajima and I could probably manage somehow.

However, Meiko immediately shot that idea down.

“As your childhood friend, there are some things I absolutely have to stop. This is one of them.”

And with that, the matter was settled.

Naturally, I had no choice but to ask what exactly that was supposed to mean. What kind of secret “childhood friend” rulebook was she operating from?

But Meiko merely fell silent, refusing to elaborate.

To me, it looked suspiciously as though she was worried that leaving Kuwajima and me alone together would somehow advance our relationship.

Hmm.

Yet considering Meiko possessed an almost frightening level of insight, it was entirely possible that some deeper, more elaborate calculation lay hidden beneath the surface.

Perhaps she feared that after witnessing Kuwajima’s catastrophic academic abilities firsthand, my patience would finally snap and I would attempt to murder her.

That was also a possibility.

Well, regardless of the reasoning, after a lengthy exchange of schedules, class timetables, and availability, we eventually managed to arrange several study sessions.

Ideally, like the study groups one often heard about, we would have wrapped everything up in a single weekend.

But looking at Kuwajima’s current situation, there was no way this ordeal would be finished in a single day.

“So here’s the plan. We’re going to take down your subjects one at a time, starting with the exams that are closest. Prepare yourself, Kuwajima. Today’s targets are Economic History and Statistics.”

“I’ll be in your care.”

The promised Saturday arrived.

Taking advantage of the weekend, the four of us gathered at the city’s public library.

There had been several possible locations for the study sessions, of course.

But after carefully considering every aspect of the universally recognized college-student study-group event, I had selected the library as the venue most suitable for our purposes.

“Why go out of your way to use the library?” Taketsuru asked. “Wouldn’t Kirishiro’s place work just fine?”

That was the question he directed at me after I designated the library as our meeting place.

Unlike the carefully chosen outfits he wore when meeting his girlfriend, Taketsuru was dressed casually today, looking like an ordinary guy heading out for a quick errand. Well, it was already July, after all.

His question was understandable.

But there was a very important reason behind my choice.

“The truth is, study groups can be divided into two major categories. And for this one, the library was unquestionably the correct choice. Can you guess why?”

“No clue. I’ve never seriously analyzed study groups as an event.”

As always, Taketsuru’s sensitivity toward common social events remained astonishingly low.

Shaking my head, I began explaining.

“Although they’re all lumped together under the label of ‘study group,’ there are actually two distinct types. The first exists to raise the academic level of someone who’s genuinely bad at studying. The second is a study group in name only, existing primarily to advance the relationships between the protagonist and other characters.”

I raised a finger.

“One of the biggest differences between those two categories is the location. That’s why we needed the library instead of somebody’s house.”

“Sorry, are we still talking about reality?”

“I’m talking about the perfectly ordinary study groups found everywhere.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely fantasy.”

Fantasy, he says.

Honestly, he should worry about the fantasy standing right in front of him.

Because we were already ankle-deep in it.

A fantasy-level embodiment of poor planning named Kuwajima was sitting right there.

Now then, for the sake of completeness, there really were two kinds of study groups.

That said, they weren’t completely separate categories.

Most examples contained elements of both, existing somewhere along a spectrum rather than fitting neatly into one box.

The first type, naturally, was the genuine study group.

Its primary purpose was academics.

The protagonist, a member of the friend group, or perhaps several people at once found themselves facing serious consequences if they performed poorly on an upcoming exam, and the goal became raising their grades.

Common motivations included things like failing and repeating a year, being barred from participating in sports competitions, or needing high scores due to family circumstances.

The defining characteristic of this variety was the location.

After-school classrooms, school libraries, public libraries like this one—places specifically chosen because they allowed people to focus on studying.

There might be occasional conversation, but the core of the event was patiently teaching weaker students until they could earn respectable grades on the next test.

The purpose and the method aligned perfectly.

Simple.

Efficient.

Exactly my kind of thing.

And in Kuwajima’s case, this was the side of the spectrum I intended to emphasize as heavily as possible.

The second type, meanwhile, used the study group merely as a pretext.

The true focus was often interpersonal interaction.

Through the study-group setting, characters could experience romantic tension, reveal unexpected sides of themselves—such as a cold character secretly being kind—or develop a sense of camaraderie through shared effort.

The entrance point might look identical to the first type, but studying wasn’t necessarily the real objective.

In fact, the participants were often already reasonably capable students.

A single piece of advice from the heroine would solve a problem, leading instead to relationship development between the characters involved.

Because of those differing priorities, the locations tended to be more casual.

Family restaurants.

Someone’s house.

Places where people could chat and laugh while studying with snacks and juice spread across the table.

Sometimes the punchline was that everyone got together to study and ended up spending the entire day playing around instead.

For Kuwajima’s situation, however, those elements needed to be eliminated as thoroughly as possible.

“Um… personally, I think I’d be happier with the second type. You know, something a little more relaxed and easygoing.”

Even while standing in front of the library, Kuwajima continued trying to take the easy route.

A woman hopelessly indulgent toward herself.

Steeling my heart, I delivered my verdict.

“Stop being spoiled, Kuwajima. If you were only in danger of failing one class, I’d consider it. But a woman who’s on track to lose four credits doesn’t get a vote.”

“I’m going to fail four credits at this rate!? Please tell me you’re joking!”

“Whether you believe the hallucinations is entirely up to you.”

“It’s over… My life is over…”

For some reason, she resisted nearly everything I said.

Yet anything the hallucinations told her, she accepted without question.

How was it possible that a hallucination ranked higher in credibility than her best friend?

“Well, well. Cheer up. I went and got past exam papers for you.”

Meiko smiled warmly and held up a stack of documents.

“With these, things should work out somehow, right?”

“Uuu… thank you, Meiko…”

Kuwajima’s face had been filled with despair moments earlier, but Meiko’s kindness immediately brightened her mood.

Apparently, Meiko had gone out of her way to obtain previous years’ exams from Kuwajima’s department.

Whether that was kindness or sheer loyalty, I wasn’t entirely sure.

Though admittedly, if the number of study-group events increased, Meiko would lose more of her own free time. In that sense, I understood her motivation.

I understood it.

But I also failed to miss the change that occurred in Kuwajima’s hallucination after hearing Meiko’s encouraging words.

──────

“Kuwajima Taeko”

If reassured by receiving past exam papers and completely succumbing to laziness.

Failed Credits: 6 (including 4 required courses)

──────

“Meiko.”

I pointed immediately.

“If you spoil her, she’ll fail two more credits. Don’t give her the past exams until right before the tests. We’ll hold onto them until then.”

“Ehhh… Tae-chan… seriously…?”

“T-That’s completely false! I’m not that lazy!”

People could say anything they wanted.

But a woman currently staring academic failure in the face had no speaking rights on the matter.

I glanced at my watch.

10:00 a.m.

If we were studying until six in the evening, then considering Kuwajima’s attention span, we’d need to approach this efficiently.

“Alright. Enough pointless chatter.”

I folded my arms.

“Relax, Kuwajima. Despite appearances, I’ve never failed to train a subordinate. As long as I’m the one teaching you, you won’t lose a single credit.”

“That’s actually incredibly reassuring.”

“Even if you end up crying and begging for mercy again, I won’t abandon you. Just sit back and trust me completely.”

“The moment you said that, I became extremely scared.”

Well, which path she ultimately followed would depend on Kuwajima herself.

I would probably be tutoring her one-on-one for most of the day, but Taketsuru and Meiko were both capable of studying independently.

The study-group event itself should proceed without problems.

“Now then, a question, Kuwajima.”

I leaned forward slightly.

“Do you actually understand what parts of your classes you don’t understand? Answer honestly. Your future depends on this.”

There was a massive difference in effort between teaching someone who understood their weaknesses and someone who didn’t even know what they didn’t know.

I sincerely hoped she had crossed that line already.

After all, we were in a library.

I couldn’t exactly start shouting explanations at full volume.

“…Probably.”

Kuwajima replied after a long pause.

“I think I know?”

As she spoke, her eyes drifted aimlessly across the horizon, wandering like castaways lost at sea.

It was honestly impressive how freely a pair of eyeballs could move.

I nodded once.

Then turned to Meiko.

“Meiko. Interrogate the suspect.”

“At times like this, could you please calm down?”

Ignoring Kuwajima’s protests, we conducted a thorough investigation.

The results were devastating.

It turned out that, at present, Kuwajima understood virtually nothing in almost every single course she was taking.

The hardest possible route.

Not that I had wished for this outcome.

But if this was the path Kuwajima had chosen, then there was nothing for it.

We would simply have to proceed with the full Spartan course.