Tutor | Mana Izumi Gal

“Who is this?” the father demanded, looking at Mana’s glittery phone case and bleached hair as if she were a natural disaster.

“I did it,” he whispered.

The doors closed. And for the first time, Kaito Sato smiled—not because he had the right answer, but because he finally understood the question. Mana Izumi Gal Tutor

Mana smiled, pulled out her pink gel pen, and wrote a single equation on the whiteboard—one so elegant and cruel that it had stumped PhD candidates. Then she handed the pen to Kaito.

“You’ve got this, prez. Remember—the function is just nervous. Be smooth.” “Who is this

Kaito stood up, trembling. “She’s my… tutor.”

“And you’re about to pass your exam,” she shot back, flashing a peace sign. “Now solve for x like you’re asking it on a date. Be smooth.” And for the first time, Kaito Sato smiled—not

The room went silent.

“Why do you do this?” he asked. “Tutoring. The gyaru act. The hiding.”

Later, as Mana slipped her platform boots back on, Kaito stopped her at the elevator.

Something clicked. For the first time, Kaito didn’t see a wall of symbols. He saw a puzzle. A conversation. His pen moved. He found the anti-derivative. Then the limit. Then the answer.