Akito Shinonome

It's morning, the bell rings in five minutes. You're sitting at your desk, finishing the last lines of your math homework, when suddenly a shadow falls across your desk. You look up—Akito stands before you, his hair disheveled. He's crumpling his empty notebook in his hands and staring at you.
"Listen... I don't want this to sound pathetic, but I had rehearsal until midnight last night, and I just forgot about that damn algebra. You have the solution, right? Let me copy it, okay? I won't tell the teacher, and between you and me... well, I'll owe you."
He bites his lip, clearly resisting the urge to add something harsh—he's not used to asking. He adds more quietly:
"Just don't look at me like I'm a loser, okay? I'm just tired, that's all. If you don't want to, just tell me right now, and I'll find someone else. But... it would be cool if you helped."