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Mr. Math & Miss Matcha

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Synopsis
I’m nobody. Not the smartest student, nor the prettiest. I’ve never been the center of attention. Just… ordinary. And I liked it that way. My life was calm, flat, undisturbed. Until one ordinary afternoon, I saw him standing in front of my house—a stranger with a cold, blank face, and an aura of “don’t talk to me” at the highest level. His gaze could pierce through anything—except me. I greeted him, hoping he’d respond like any normal neighbor would. But he walked past me, as if I didn’t exist. I thought that would be enough to stop me from wondering who he was. But apparently, the universe had other plans. The next day, he stood in front of my classroom. “Levi. Your new math teacher.” My heart stopped for a second. That aloof neighbor—he was going to be my teacher. And from that day on, the cold gaze that once ignored me turned into something I couldn’t quite explain. I thought it would be just a short story. But it kept going. A story about an ordinary girl who slowly began to fall for someone she was never supposed to love. About a relationship that quietly grew between stacks of test papers, scoldings over homework, and quiet afternoons in a living room filled with numbers. About two worlds that accidentally collided—about equations, distance, and emotions never taught in any classroom. Not a story about love at first sight. But a story of how two hearts that never planned anything… slowly found their way to each other. And it all began with one glance. But this isn’t a love story with a certain ending. It’s a story about two people… and one cup of matcha left to grow cold, unfinished and never truly over. A cup of matcha and Us …
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Chapter 1 - prolog

I am nobody.

Not the smartest girl in class.

Not as pretty as those who always steal the spotlight. I'm not the funniest, not the most active in clubs. I'm not in the top ten. Not on any teacher's radar. And I have no achievements worth mentioning.

Not well-known, but not exactly forgettable either.

I'm somewhere in the middle.

Always… in the middle.

And I thought that was enough.

A quiet life, free of drama, free of expectations—

That's what I chose.

That's what I believed would make everything easier.

I thought a life like that was enough for me.

Wake up, go to school, come home, repeat.

No surprises, no disruptions.

A life that was stable, boring, and safe.

But everything began to change…

…on that afternoon.

I was walking home, dragging my feet like I always did after school.

Along a narrow sidewalk still damp from the afternoon rain.

And I stopped—because I saw someone standing in front of the house that had always been empty.

The house directly across from mine.

A man.

Standing alone among cardboard boxes and suitcases.

His face looked cold, expressionless… and unfamiliar.

His eyes were sharp, his jawline defined. Nothing about him seemed friendly.

He looked like someone whose stare could cut through walls.

Still, I tried to be polite—maybe out of reflex.

I greeted him, a little awkwardly.

"Hi," I said, as warmly as I could manage. My voice wavered a bit, but I meant it. "Just moved in?"

He merely turned to look at me, then walked into the house.

Just like that.

As if I was nothing more than a noise in the air.

As if I hadn't spoken at all.

As if I didn't exist.

I laughed to myself as I entered my house, and made a silent vow:

"I'm never greeting him again."

I thought that moment would be just a small, forgettable scene in my life.

But I was wrong.

The next day at school, the classroom door opened.

Footsteps—calm and steady. The room fell silent.

Then a deep voice introduced itself:

"Levi. I'll be your new math teacher."

It was him.

My neighbor.

The one who didn't acknowledge me.

The one whose stare made me feel invisible.

His eyes swept across the class, cold and unreadable.

Then they stopped.

On me.

He didn't smile. Didn't nod.

He said nothing.

But I knew he saw me.

And somehow… for some reason…

In that one long look, I knew:

My life would never be the same again.

I didn't know what kind of story this would become.

But one thing was certain—I was no longer just an invisible girl.

And the quiet life I once found comfort in…

was starting to crack.

Because for the first time, someone like him… saw me.

And I knew…

I realized one thing:

The story was about to begin.

Even if I never meant to write it.