Chapter One: “The Princess Wants to Win Over the Prince” — Part Eight
Senpai led me to a bench in the courtyard.
“It’s at least in the shade — is this all right?”
“Yes! Anywhere is fine, as long as I’m with you, Senpai!”
“Thank you.”
Iori-senpai’s lunchbox was exactly what you’d expect from someone in an athletic club — enormous. The top tier was packed solid with white rice, and the bottom tier was crammed with an assortment of brown side dishes.
Mine, by comparison, was quite small.
Not because I eat little — it’s for the sake of keeping my figure. Unlike Senpai, I’m not in a sports club, and if I ate whatever I liked I’d put on weight in no time.
“Is that really enough for you, Himena-chan?”
“Plenty. I don’t eat much.”
A complete lie. But I wanted to make a good impression. I wanted Senpai to see only my most adorable self.
“Is that right.”
Senpai pressed her hands together in a proper itadakimasu before she started eating. Despite the sheer volume of food, she finished every last bite in no time at all.
She must burn through so much energy with all that training.
Her chopstick form was impeccable, and somehow even eating quickly she managed to look refined. Even the way she ate was graceful — Senpai was truly too perfect.
“Look, Himena-chan.”
She pointed to the flower beds where the environmental beautification committee was doing their watering. From here you had a clear view.
“I never used to pay any attention to flower beds, and it’s not like I’m especially fond of flowers — but once it’s your flower bed that you water yourself, don’t you find you get a little attached?”
“I know exactly what you mean. I always find myself glancing over whenever I walk past.”
When a flower you hadn’t seen before comes into bloom, it makes you happy. When one has wilted, it makes you a little sad.
Watering duty was hard work, but it was like gaining a small new pleasure in the rhythm of daily life — and somehow, that made it enjoyable.
“Right? When I lost at rock-paper-scissors and ended up on the committee I thought it was the worst — but maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.”
I couldn’t really comment on that one. Senpai had already found out I’d signed up for the committee on purpose after all.
A warm, lazy breeze drifted through and stirred Senpai’s hair. Her ear was briefly exposed — a neat, pretty ear — and my heart gave a small jump.
Senpai’s ears are a little pointy. That’s adorable.
“Himena-chan. You’re staring.”
“Oh — sorry, I just—”
“It’s fine. For you, Himena-chan.”
Senpai said things like that so easily, things that sent my heart racing. I’d assumed the nickname prince was purely about how she looked — but maybe there was more to it than that.
“…Well, if you’re sure — I’m going to look at your face to my heart’s content, then.”
☆★☆★☆★☆★
We chatted about nothing in particular until the five-minutes-to-end-of-lunch bell rang. As much as I didn’t want to leave, we had to get back to class.
“We should head back.”
“Yes. …Um, Iori-senpai.”
“Yes?”
“Can I invite you to lunch again sometime?”
“Of course.”
She answered without a moment’s pause. The thought that she might have enjoyed our lunch break together too made me want to break into an embarrassing grin.
Since we were in different years, our shoe lockers were in different places. We parted to change our shoes, and I headed off at a quick walk toward mine.
“…Hm?”
When I opened my locker, there was an envelope inside that hadn’t been there before. A plain white envelope, with Himena-chan written on it in big, careless handwriting.
Oh. That’s a love letter.
I turned it over. A boy’s name I didn’t recognise was on the back.
“Himena-chan?”
“Oh — sorry, I’m coming.”
I didn’t want Senpai to see, so I shoved the letter hastily into my pocket.
☆★☆★☆★☆★
I like you, Himena-chan. Please go out with me.
That was the gist of it. He’d written a few reasons why he liked me, but they were all about my appearance.
Getting confessed to wasn’t unusual for me, and this wasn’t the first love letter I’d received either. They almost always came from people I’d never even spoken to, and if I was honest, not one of them had ever made me happy.
“…What do I do.”
At the end of the letter, he’d included his LINE ID and asked me to reply. But replying on LINE would mean giving away my account, and that I wanted to avoid.
Telling him in person was equally unappealing.
Such a nuisance….
In the past I’d had trouble both from replying and from not replying. I genuinely had no idea what the right thing to do was.
The worst experience I’d ever had was being resented by a girl in my class because the boy she liked had confessed to me instead.
The irony was — I’d been the one with feelings for her.
“Hmm…”
After some deliberation, I buried the love letter at the bottom of my bag.