The first time Ishimaru sees Mondo sitting at his desk of his own volition, he nearly screams. But rather than spoil the moment with a victorious “I’m so proud of you, kyoudai!”, Ishimaru quietly closes the door behind him and takes a seat upon his bed.
He watches the way Mondo’s brows knit in frustration, catches the heave of his shoulders, and notices the faint smirk of satisfaction when the lightbulb goes off. Ishimaru sets his backpack down off to the side and listens to the soft scratches of an almost-new pencil wearing down against curled paper; Mondo has yet to ruin the spine of his workbook and has to keep his palm down on the arcing pages.
Ishimaru stares in wonder. “Dammit, how did Kiyotaka solve this problem again…” Swells with pride.
Enough is enough. Ishimaru hops off his bed and hugs him from behind, murmuring against his ear, “It’s good to take a break every now and again.”
Mondo flushes and starts to argue, but Ishimaru already has the keys to his bike.
