Early morning. Six o'clock.
The alarm went off right on schedule—and was silenced almost the instant it started.
Mio had already been awake for ten minutes, her internal clock pulling her out of sleep before the alarm could. She'd just been lying there, waiting for it out of habit.
When she finally opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was unexpected: Mashiro, who was usually dead asleep at this hour, was already awake. Those amber eyes were open, and they were looking directly at Mio.
Mio's first instinct was to touch the corner of her own mouth. Please tell me I didn't drool.
She hadn't.
Satisfied that nothing was wrong, she said, "Mashiro, why are you staring at me like that?"
"Because..." Mashiro paused, just slightly. "Mio is really pretty."
"Don't say things like that first thing in the morning—that's cheating!" Mio threw off the covers and was out of bed and into the bathroom at a speed that would have impressed most people.
The conquest rating didn't go up. Good. If it had, I'd be in serious trouble.
She went through her morning routine, then headed to the kitchen to start breakfast and pack the bento boxes—same as always.
Somewhere in the middle of cooking, she noticed Mashiro had appeared in the living room. Her clothes were thrown on somewhat haphazardly, her hair was a mess—and she still somehow managed to look utterly, infuriatingly cute.
Not the point. Mio refocused. The point is that Mashiro being up and dressed at this hour is very unusual.
Normally she'd still be asleep. Normally she wouldn't even be out of bed.
And those eyes. The intensity of Mashiro's gaze was something else.
That alone might have been manageable—but during breakfast, the staring continued uninterrupted. Mashiro didn't even notice when she spilled food on the table.
At that point, Mio excused herself to the bathroom and spent a solid minute checking herself in the mirror. Nothing seemed different. She looked perfectly normal. The random ability she'd drawn from [Schrödinger's Card] that morning was completely unremarkable.
So why does Mashiro keep staring at me?
She had no answer. She gave up and opened the bathroom door—and found Mashiro standing directly outside it.
Her first thought was that Mashiro needed to use it, but she quickly remembered: this apartment had more than one bathroom.
Mashiro was there because she'd been waiting.
"Mashiro." Mio gave in and asked. "Can I ask why you've been staring at me all morning?"
"And don't say it's because I'm pretty. You already used that one."
"Mio, that's not fair." Mashiro tilted her head. "That's the only reason I have."
Mio opened her mouth—and then the knock at the door cut her off.
"You two. Time to head out." Chihiro's voice came through from the hallway.
"Coming!" Mio called back. She grabbed Mashiro's hand, slung her bag over her shoulder, and they headed out together.
They said good morning to Chihiro, and the three of them stepped into the elevator.
"Chihiro-sensei." Mio turned to her. "Do I look any different today?"
Chihiro blinked, clearly not expecting the question. She gave Mio a once-over. "No, not really. Same as always. Which is to say, very pretty."
"That's what I thought. So why has Mashiro been complimenting me on my looks all morning? I look the same as I always do."
At that, Chihiro glanced at her cousin. Sure enough, even in the elevator, Mashiro's eyes were fixed on Mio. The weight of that gaze was something Chihiro could feel from three feet away as a bystander.
She wasn't sure exactly what had happened, but she had a pretty solid guess it was connected to last night.
Without a word, Chihiro reached over and lightly tapped Mashiro on the head.
Chihiro was not as gentle as Mio. The knock actually stung, and Mashiro's hand flew up to cover the spot. She turned to Chihiro with a bewildered expression, silently asking why.
Chihiro didn't answer right away. She waited until they were out of the elevator, then pulled Mashiro aside—just far enough that Mio couldn't hear—and said quietly, "Why are you staring at her so openly?"
"Mio told me last night—when you can't ask a question directly, you can find the answer by observing. So I'm observing."
"That's way too obvious. At least try to be subtle about it."
Mashiro blinked. Then she gave a very solemn nod, as if she'd absorbed this wisdom completely.
Chihiro looked at her with deep uncertainty. Did she actually understand, or did she just... hear it differently?
She would have pressed further, but Mio glanced back at them, so she let it go.
Mashiro returned to Mio's side, and her behavior did shift—somewhat. She was still watching Mio, the intensity still there, but now when Mio looked her way, Mashiro would quietly turn her gaze aside and pretend she hadn't been staring.
The acting was so transparently bad that Chihiro, walking behind them, had to stifle a sigh. And if Chihiro could see through it instantly, a former actress like Mio certainly could.
It kept up all the way to school, right until they had to part ways. Only then did Mashiro reluctantly pull her eyes away.
She still hadn't found the answer she was looking for. But she'd been watching Mio all morning, and she'd come to one clear conclusion: Mio really was extraordinarily pretty. If they didn't have class, Mashiro would have gotten out her sketchbook and drawn her right then and there.
Come to think of it, she'd drawn quite a few pictures of Mio by now. A number of them were hanging on the walls of her room, and even more were tucked away in storage.
But even so, she didn't feel like it was enough. She wanted to draw more.
...Does that count as liking someone?
Meanwhile, on the other side of the building, Mio walked into her classroom and let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
I never thought I'd get nervous because of someone's stare.
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