Somewhere between bribing Anya to do her math homework with peanut cookies and stitching a superhero cape at two in the morning, Loid realized something horrifying:
He was going to need lesson plans.
Day 1 of Operation Stellar Child.
Time: 0700 hours.
Objective: Transform Anya into a top-performing Eden Academy student.
Obstacle: Anya.
He stood at the chalkboard he had personally installed in their tiny living room, diagrams drawn with surgical precision. Across from him, Anya sat at her "learning station" (a.k.a. the coffee table covered in stickers), wearing a cape made from one of Yor's scarves and goggles that did absolutely nothing.
Yor peeked around the corner with a tray of tea and sliced apples. "Are we… doing a superhero thing?"
"No," Loid said. "This is psychological conditioning."
Anya raised a finger. "I am currently Bondgirl the Brave, here to defeat Evil Math!"
Loid sighed. "Math is not the enemy."
"That's what Evil Math wants you to think."
[System Alert: Motivation at 67%. Cognitive Focus at 18%. Peanut Incentive Plan Recommended.]
He clapped his hands. "Alright. Let's start with multiplication tables. Anya, what's seven times eight?"
Anya blinked.
Then reached for a crayon and drew a squid.
"…That's not a number," he said.
"It's a multiplying squid." She held it up proudly. "See? All those arms? Math."
Loid stared at her. "…You can't logic your way out of numbers with tentacles."
"But I did."
By mid-morning, Loid had tried everything: visual aids, mnemonics, tactical flashcards. He even briefly considered hypnotism before remembering the last time that went wrong (he still occasionally barked in Russian during REM sleep).
Anya, meanwhile, had made moderate progress.
Sort of.
Her reward system now included a point chart labeled "Spy Stars," and she'd earned two—one for correctly answering "What is 2+2?" and one for not setting the curtains on fire.
Progress.
[Stella Potential: 4.2%. Projected Date of Success: 2071. Recommend "Alternative Reinforcement Methods."]
"Maybe she's more of a kinetic learner," Yor suggested gently.
Loid turned, eyebrow raised. "You think violence will help her pass math?"
"No! No no—I just meant… maybe she needs to experience the lesson."
Which is how they ended up outside, using chalk to draw numbers on the pavement while Anya literally jumped from solution to solution like some deranged numerical hopscotch champion.
A neighbor stared. Another whispered.
Anya shouted, "I'M A HUMAN CALCULATOR!"
Loid deadpanned, "You just stepped on the wrong answer."
She collapsed theatrically. "THE CALCULATOR IS BROKEN."
Day 3 of Operation Stellar Child.
A breakthrough.
Not in math.
But in science.
Anya, surrounded by beakers (plastic), wires (mostly yarn), and a very aggressive poster labeled "THE VOLCANO OF SMARTNESS," successfully completed a baking soda and vinegar reaction.
Then added glitter.
Then attempted to use it as a weapon against the "forces of educational darkness."
Loid didn't stop her.
He was too busy being... impressed.
[System Alert: Anya has entered "Creative Comprehension Mode." Subject responds positively to experimental learning models and spy-themed curriculum. Recommend continued thematic instruction.]
That night, Anya sat on the floor with a notebook labeled "SECRET MISSION: GET STELLAR STAR AND MAKE PAPA PROUD."
Loid pretended not to notice.
Instead, he walked over and handed her a small sticker. A golden star with the WISE logo, repurposed.
She stared at it like it was made of diamonds.
"Is this… my first Stella?"
"No," he said gently. "But it's your first real effort. That counts."
She hugged him so hard it knocked his pen out of his hand.
[Bond Status: Anya – Emotional Trust Level Up.][System Note: You are dangerously close to caring too much.]
He didn't reply.
He just hugged her back.
Yor returned from the market late that evening, arms full of groceries and a very sketchy bag of "discount fish." She walked in to see Loid asleep on the couch, still wearing his teaching apron, a notebook fallen open beside him.
Anya was curled up on the floor under her cape, hugging her fake Stella.
And for the first time, the apartment felt like a home.
Not a safe house.
Not a cover story.
A real home.