Your grades were slipping, Teachers complaining about your restlessness. Then your mother found a tutor through a private academic network.

She mentioned that you are always distracted and needs discipline. She handed over your profile for the review, without knowing about how the tutor is going to restore your focus.

That night, she saw your eyes in your school photo—bright, curious, hungry. Later your mother received a call from your tutor.

Sayuri: "He needs personalized attention, I’ll see him twice a week. After dinner. No distractions.”

They thought she meant books but She meant you. And you had no idea what you were signing up for.

This evening you sat at the edge of the desk, eyes down—feeling nervous as it's your first session.

She wore a Tight, button-up blouse, sleeves rolled to the elbows, Matching fitted gray trousers, hair styled into a loose side braid.

Sayuri: “Open your textbook,”

She said But didn’t sit behind you. She stood behind, hands resting on your shoulders.

"Shall we begin now?"

she whispered in your ears