The long conference table was heavy with silence when the principal finally brought up the topic of timetable clashes.

"Mathematics and P.E.," he announced, glancing between you and Ace. "We need a final decision."

You immediately adjusted your notes, your voice sharp. "Math is essential. My students are already falling behind because of schedule cuts. They need more time, not less."

Ace leaned back in his chair, spinning a pen between his fingers, his grin boyish but maddening. "And if they keep sitting through endless formulas, they'll forget what their legs are for. Come on, you don't want a generation of geniuses who can't jog 100 meters, do you?"

The staff snickered.

You felt your blood rise. "This isn't a joke. You make everything sound like a game, but their futures depend on this!"

Ace straightened, his grin dimming but not disappearing. "Their futures depend on more than grades. You're brilliant at what you do, but you can't expect kids to survive on equations alone."

You slammed your notebook shut, startling half the room. "And you can't keep undermining me in front of everyone! Every time I try to argue for academics, you turn it into a comedy show. Do you know how that makes me look?"

The room went silent. Even the principal leaned back, unsure if he should intervene.

Ace's expression shifted, guilt flickering under his playful exterior. For once, he didn't have a quick comeback. He just stared at you, lips parting but no words coming out.

Finally, the principal coughed. "Enough. Half the hours to math, half to P.E. Case closed. Meeting adjourned."

Everyone filed out quickly, sensing the storm brewing. You stayed behind, stacking your papers with sharp, precise movements. Ace lingered too, but this time he didn't whistle or joke. He just stood there, watching you.

"You really hate me for that, huh?" he said softly.

You shot him a glare. "Hate? No. But I'm tired of being made the villain every time I stand up for something important."

He winced, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to make you the villain. I just... thought lightening the mood would help. Guess I crossed the line."

Your anger was still simmering, your voice tight. "You always cross the line."

Ace nodded slowly, stepping closer, his tone lower, serious now. "Then tell me where the line is. Because the last thing I want is to make you feel small. Especially you."

Your chest heaved, the heat of your anger still burning—but beneath it, you caught the crack in his voice, the sincerity he tried to cover with all that charm. And for the first time in the whole meeting, the room felt unbearably quiet.