Chapter One: “The Princess Wants to Win Over the Prince” — Part Twelve

Iori-senpai led me by the hand to an empty classroom, away from everyone. Unused as it was, the room smelled faintly of dust.
I sat down in one of the old chairs, and Senpai gently stroked my head.

“That must have been frightening. Are you all right?”

Her right hand moved through my hair, her left hand held mine softly. And she looked right into my eyes from up close, watching over me with quiet concern.
The face I loved most in the world was right there in front of me. Senpai was touching me, all of her attention on me.
And yet — strange as it was — what I felt more than any flutter of excitement was simply relief.

“…I was frightened.”

Saying it out loud made the feeling sharper, more real.
Senpai nodded, and stroked my hair again.

“It’s all right now. There’s no one here but me.”

So you can relax, she murmured, and her voice was so gentle it almost made me want to cry.

“…This — this kind of thing happens to me quite a lot, actually. People get the wrong idea — they think I’m putting on an act, or that I’m interested in boys — and then they come at me like that…”

Why was I saying this? Why, of all the things I could be saying to Senpai right now?

She’d saved me, and now we were alone together. Chances like this didn’t come often — I should have been saying something that showed me at my best, something that made an impression.
That was why I really shouldn’t have been saying any of this. It was such a dull, unhappy thing to bring up.

“I — I wear makeup to school every day, and my skirt is short, and — people decided that meant it was all for boys — back in middle school, people used to say that behind my back…”

But Senpai kept nodding, kept listening, and somehow I found the words coming out of me — things I normally kept folded away at the back of my heart.
Every time Senpai nodded, it felt as though a layer of something soft and protective was being gently peeled away from around me.

“It’s not like that at all, is it.”

She said it quietly, and then she cupped my face in both hands.

“Getting up early every morning and making yourself this cute — that’s such an effort. No one does something that hard for someone else’s sake.”
“Iori-senpai…”
“You’d have to love it to do it. I understand. I couldn’t drag myself out of bed every morning for early practice if I didn’t love basketball.”

I want people to think I’m naturally pretty, not that I try hard to be.
That was what I’d always told myself — and yet Senpai’s words made me happier than I could say.

“I know. That everything you’ve worked at, Himena-chan — it’s always been for yourself, not for anyone else.”

She smiled, and reached up to touch my hair. As gently as if she were handling something that might break.

Today had taken real time, getting my curls right. But that was nothing new. Years ago I was so much worse at it — I’d practised over and over, and damaged my hair doing it.

Makeup too: I’d tried every product I could find, watched every tutorial, researched and researched until I found what worked for me.

My hands aren’t even naturally steady — curling irons and eye pencils have never come easily. And I watch what I eat, carefully, every day, to keep the figure I want. It doesn’t come naturally to me; I’m not one of those people who can eat freely and stay the same.

“The Himena-chan who’s worked so hard at all of that — I think she’s lovely.”

Oh, I was done for.
Before I even noticed, my eyes had filled with tears.

I forced them wide open and stared up at the ceiling so they wouldn’t fall. If I cried now, my makeup would come undone right in front of Senpai.
I wanted to show Senpai only my most adorable self.

“You don’t have to push yourself. You’re just as cute when you cry.”

She gave a quiet laugh — and then, all at once, she pulled me into a hug.

“Wh—?”
“You’re cute when you cry, but you don’t want me to see, do you, Himena-chan. So I won’t look.”

Senpai rubbed my back in slow, gentle strokes. It had been since childhood that anyone had held me like this.
I’d been trying so hard, in front of Iori-senpai, to be at my prettiest, to show only the best of myself. But Senpai had been seeing me — not just the surface, but properly, all along.

Part of me felt a little cheated. But that was nothing — nothing — next to how happy I was.

“Iori-senpai.”
“Mm?”
“I like you.”

At first it was only love at first sight. I adored her face, and I fell in an instant.
But it isn’t like that anymore. Every time we meet, I find something new about Senpai to love.

“I know.”

Unfair. So unfair — and I love her so much.
The way she teased me just a little. The composed ease in her smile. And the fact that her voice, just now, was ever so slightly higher than usual.
I love everything about Senpai. Every single part.
And whatever I don’t know yet — I know I’ll love that too.

“Senpai.”

I drew back slowly and looked straight at her face. Somewhere along the way, the tears had gone.

“You’re right that everything I’ve worked at has been for myself. But — but it isn’t only that anymore.”

Every morning, when I’m choosing a lip colour, I think of Iori-senpai.
Which shade will make her think I’m prettiest?
It’s the same with my hair. Less about what I want, more about how I’ll look to Senpai.

“I think about you all the time. Because I want you to think, even a little — she’s even cuter than yesterday.”

Thinking this much about someone else was new to me.
Since meeting Senpai, I feel like I’ve been changing, slowly and steadily. Maybe this is what it really means to love someone.

“You really are cute, Himena-chan.”

Cute was a word I’d heard so many times it had stopped meaning anything — but from Senpai’s lips, it sounded like something enchanted.
Like magic, it made me happy.

“Thank you.”
“I only said what I thought.”

She smiled, and gave my head a soft little pat.

“Right — shall we eat?”
“Yes!”

Today’s lunchbox was the same as always — small, not nearly enough.
But somehow, that felt perfectly all right.