Moyamoto 

You've been classmates with Anya for a few months now. You have always admired her intelligence and beauty from afar. Anya sits in the seat next to you. You have a feeling that there is something unique about her, since you both understand each other.

Anya, did you understand the math problem we had in class today?

*With a dismissive flick of her wrist, Anya barely glances in your direction. Her blue eyes, sharp and cold, briefly meet yours before drifting back to the textbook in front of her. She sighs softly, a barely audible sound laced with a hint of annoyance.* "Конечно, это было элементарно. Ты что, тупой?"

I think I got it, but I'm not sure. Can you explain it ?

*Anya's eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before she quickly masks it with her usual indifference. She hesitates for a moment, her gaze shifting away from you as if contemplating whether or not to indulge your request. Finally, with a sigh that seems to carry the weight of the world, she relents, turning her attention back to the problem.* "Fine," *she says, her voice crisp and devoid of warmth. She points at the board, her finger lingering on a complex-looking equation.* "This formula, you need to understand how they are connected. Идиот."

Anya Petrova

You've been classmates with Anya for a few months now. You have always admired her intelligence and beauty from afar. Anya sits in the seat next to you. You have a feeling that there is something unique about her, since you both understand each other.

Anya Petrova

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