The midterms were approaching fast, casting a shadow over the otherwise lively university atmosphere. Students filled the campus library, their heads buried in books, their notebooks scribbled with frantic calculations and hastily written notes. Among them, Haruto sat with a furrowed brow, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the edge of his physics textbook.
"You look like you're planning a battle strategy, not studying," Aiko remarked, setting her sketchbook aside as she leaned across the table.
Haruto sighed, rubbing his temple. "I might as well be. Astrophysics is trying to kill me."
Aiko laughed softly, twirling a pencil between her fingers. "You should form a study group. Didn't the professor say that learning together can be more effective?"
Haruto considered this. He had always been the kind of student who preferred to tackle things alone, relying on his own understanding rather than group discussions. But perhaps, this time, Aiko had a point.
And so, the next day, he found himself seated in a small university classroom with a handful of classmates, textbooks, and notebooks spread across the table. Aiko had tagged along, not because she needed help with physics—art students had their own battles to fight—but because, in her words, she wanted to "keep things interesting."
The group consisted of four students besides Haruto—Takeshi, the ever-enthusiastic mathematician; Yuki, the quiet but sharp-minded chemistry major; Rina, who, despite being in the same physics course, always seemed one step ahead; and Daichi, who had joined under the false hope that the group study would be more social than academic.
"So," Takeshi began, adjusting his glasses. "How do we approach this? Haruto, since you seem to be the one struggling most—no offense—you should start by telling us what confuses you the most."
Haruto sighed, flipping through the pages of his book. "Where do I even begin?"
Aiko chuckled from the side. "Start with the black hole paradox thing. You were ranting about it yesterday."
Rina perked up. "Ah, the information paradox? That's actually really fascinating."
Haruto groaned. "It's fascinating if you understand it. I feel like I'm missing something every time I try to grasp it fully."
Takeshi leaned forward. "Alright, let's break it down."
As the discussion unfolded, the energy in the room shifted. What had started as an attempt to merely survive the exams slowly turned into something engaging. Takeshi, ever the problem solver, sketched out complex equations on the board, while Yuki countered with real-world applications. Rina asked questions that pushed Haruto's thinking further, making him reevaluate the gaps in his understanding.
And then there was Aiko—who, despite being an art student, found ways to make even astrophysics seem poetic. "Think of it this way," she mused. "If information is never truly lost, then maybe knowledge works the same way. Even if you don't get it now, it lingers somewhere in your mind, waiting to be realized."
Haruto stared at her for a moment before shaking his head with a chuckle. "You just turned astrophysics into an art theory, didn't you?"
She grinned. "Maybe."
The hours passed in a blur, and before they knew it, the once-daunting concepts had begun to make sense. The study session had turned into an intellectual battlefield where ideas clashed and merged, where concepts were challenged and rebuilt. Even Daichi, who had initially planned to sit back and let the others do the work, found himself drawn into the momentum.
When they finally decided to call it a night, exhaustion clung to them, but so did a newfound confidence.
Haruto stretched, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. "That was… actually helpful."
Rina smirked. "See? Study groups aren't so bad."
Takeshi adjusted his glasses, nodding in approval. "We should do this again before finals."
Daichi groaned. "Don't remind me about finals. Let's survive midterms first."
As they gathered their things, Aiko nudged Haruto lightly. "Told you studying with others wouldn't be so bad."
He chuckled, nudging her back. "Fine, you win this round."
But in truth, he felt something he hadn't expected—genuine appreciation. Not just for the knowledge gained, but for the shared struggle, for the laughter in between complex equations, for the small, almost imperceptible moments where friendships had formed in the midst of problem-solving.
And for Aiko, who, without even trying, had made everything feel a little easier.