Cheon Hae-Won sat cross-legged on Rome’s couch with her calculus textbook spread across her lap, highlighting sections with color-coded markers while Mera sprawled beside her eating chips directly from the bag.

"You know you’re supposed to review Chapters six through eight for the midterm, right?" Cheon tapped her highlighter against the page. "Not just Chapter seven."

"Six and eight are boring." Mera crunched loudly. "Seven has the good formulas."

"The midterm covers all three Chapters."

"Then I’ll study seven twice as hard."

Cheon pinched the bridge of her nose, a gesture she’d started doing more often since Rome entered her life. "That’s not how math works."

"Math doesn’t work at all unless you pay attention to it." Mera reached over and turned Cheon’s textbook sideways, squinting at the equations. "See? Already looks better."

"That’s upside down."

"Still better."

Cheon snatched the book back and smoothed the pages with unnecessary force. Three days. They’d been living in this apartment for three days, and Mera had turned studying into performance art. Every attempt at serious academic work devolved into Mera’s running commentary about which professors were attractive and which students needed to stop wearing cargo shorts.

"You’re impossible." Cheon highlighted another passage with sharp strokes. "How did you pass preparatory exams?"

"Raw talent and last-minute panic." Mera popped another chip in her mouth. "Works every time."

"That’s not a sustainable strategy."

"Neither is dating Rome but here we are."

Cheon’s highlighter paused mid-stroke. Fair point.

Mera sat up and pulled her own textbook from the floor, flipping it open to a random page somewhere in the middle. Her yellow eyes scanned the text with minimal comprehension visible on her red face.

"Alright, Panda. Teach me your ways." Mera gestured at the incomprehensible wall of numbers. "Make it make sense."

"Don’t call me that."

"Too late, it stuck." Mera grinned, showing teeth. "You brought panda panties to Rome’s place on day one. That’s permanent branding."

Cheon’s face burned. She’d packed her emergency bag without thinking, grabbing the first clean set from her drawer. Of course they’d been the cartoon ones with the bamboo pattern she’d bought on sale three months ago.

"Fine." Cheon closed her own book and slid closer to Mera, positioning the shared textbook between them. "Chapter six covers polynomial expansion. Start by understanding binomial theorem."

"I understand that I hate it."

"Understanding comes later." Cheon pointed to the first formula. "Right now you just memorize the pattern."

"That’s terrible pedagogy."

"It’s effective pedagogy for people who skip Chapters."

Mera stuck her tongue out but leaned in to focus on the page. Her tail curled around the couch cushion, the tip flicking in a rhythm Cheon had learned meant Mera was actually paying attention despite her complaints.

They worked in relative quiet for twenty minutes. Cheon explained concepts with the same crisp efficiency she brought to class representative duties, breaking complex ideas into manageable pieces. Mera absorbed information quickly once she stopped pretending not to care, asking sharp questions that revealed genuine intelligence underneath her deliberately careless exterior.

"Wait." Mera tapped a problem halfway down the page. "This one contradicts the example from three pages ago."

Cheon leaned in to check. Mera was right. The textbook had an error in the answer key.

"Good catch." Cheon made a note in the margin. "The coefficient should be negative."

"Do I get a prize?"

"You get to not fail calculus."

"Boring prize."

"Passing grades are never boring."

Mera stretched, her joints popping audibly. "I need a break. My brain hurts."

"We’ve only been working for twenty minutes."

"Exactly. Maximum capacity." Mera stood and walked to the kitchen, returning with two cans of soda. She tossed one to Cheon, who caught it reflexively despite her disapproval of drinking caffeine after four PM.

Mera sprawled back across the couch, this time putting her head in Cheon’s lap without asking permission. Her horns pressed against Cheon’s thigh, warm and smooth.

"Move." Cheon tried to shift away. "You’re heavy."

"I’m perfect and you know it."

"You’re interrupting my study schedule."

"Your study schedule needs interrupting." Mera looked up at Cheon from below, her yellow eyes bright. "You’ve been here three days and you haven’t relaxed once."

"I relax."

"When?"

"At night. When Rome-" Cheon caught herself, her face heating.

"When Rome what?" Mera’s grin turned wicked. "When he has you bent over the counter? When he makes you scream his name so loud I can hear it from the bedroom? That kind of relaxing?"

"Stop talking."

"Make me."

Cheon grabbed a throw pillow and pressed it over Mera’s face. Mera’s tail immediately wrapped around Cheon’s wrist, pulling the pillow away with surprising strength.

"Rude." Mera sat up. "I’m helping you become a normal person instead of a wound-up class rep robot."

"I’m not wound up."

"You alphabetize the spice cabinet."

"Someone needs to organize this place."

"Rome likes it messy."

"Rome likes everything." Cheon picked up her highlighter again, needing something to do with her hands. "That’s his entire personality."

Mera laughed, the sound genuine and warm. "Fair. But you like that about him."

Cheon didn’t respond. The observation was accurate and uncomfortable.

"Hey." Mera’s voice softened slightly, losing its teasing edge. "I’m not judging. I like it too. That’s why we’re both here instead of running away."

Cheon finally met Mera’s eyes. Something unspoken passed between them, an acknowledgment of shared circumstance. They were both sleeping with the same man. They both knew about the drain. They both understood what Rome was underneath the expensive clothes and confident smirk.

And somehow, impossibly, they were becoming friends.

"I thought I’d hate you," Cheon admitted quietly.

"Same." Mera’s tail swished across the couch. "Thought you’d be annoying and perfect and I’d want to push you off a roof."

"You still might."

"Maybe." Mera’s grin returned. "But now I’d feel bad about it."

Cheon surprised herself by laughing. Not her polite class representative laugh but something real and unguarded. Mera joined in, and for several seconds they just sat together, laughing about the absolute insanity of their current living situation.

"Alright, Panda." Mera wiped her eyes. "Enough bonding. Teach me more math so I can pass this garbage exam and keep my scholarship."