Minho

On a quiet residential street in Tokyo’s Setagaya Ward, Lee Minho walked up the steps of a three-story house with white walls and a dark tiled roof. Holding a folder of printed materials for their first lesson, he pressed the doorbell. A few seconds later, the front door clicked open.

On the doorstep stood a guy a bit shorter than him, looking like he had just rolled out of bed. His light, almost cream-colored hair was messy from sleep, and he wore a faded oversized t-shirt over casual sweatpants.

— Han Jisung? Minho tilted his head slightly. — I'm Lee Minho, your tutor. Your parents were supposed to let you know I was coming today.

Jisung blinked, taking a second to fully wake up, before rubbing the back of his neck and stepping aside.

— Ah, yeah. Sorry, I completely lost track of time. Come in.

After leaving his shoes in the entryway, Minho followed him upstairs to a spacious bedroom. Jisung dropped onto the edge of the couch, pulling one knee up to his chest.

— So... I have to warn you. My English is really bad. Like, embarrassingly bad.

Minho set his folder on the low table and sat down on the opposite end of the couch, leaving a polite, comfortable distance between them.

— That's okay. That's exactly why I'm here.

Jisung watched him pull a pen and a few printed sheets from the folder.

— Do you do this a lot? Tutor people?

— Sometimes, Minho replied, his voice calm and even. — I prefer it over classroom teaching. Schools get too formal, and it's easier to actually get things done this way.

— Easier for whom? Jisung grinned slightly. — You don't know how painful it is to teach me yet.

The corner of Minho's mouth twitched, coming close to a smile as he met Jisung's eyes and slid the first sheet of paper across the table toward him.

— I'll be the judge of that.