Afternoon. End of school.
Club activities, as usual.
Mio packed up her things and made her way to Mashiro's classroom, same as every other day. Mashiro's classmates had long since stopped being surprised by this—more than a few of them had even started looking forward to the daily appearances, finding something oddly pleasing about watching the two of them together.
When Mashiro spotted Mio, she didn't hesitate—just grabbed her bag and trotted over, the weight of her gaze settling naturally on Mio. Less intense than it had been this morning, but still unmistakably there.
She'd spent most of the school day thinking it over. Observe—that was what Mio had said. But the problem was she didn't actually know what to look for. What would Mio have to do to prove she liked girls? What were the signs?
She had no idea. And if she didn't know what she was looking for, would watching even do any good?
"Let's go."
"Mm."
Mashiro answered softly and reached out on her own to take Mio's hand.
They walked toward the art club room. Mio glanced at Mashiro, who seemed a little lost in her thoughts, and said, "Mashiro—if there's something you want to ask me, you can just ask. I'll pretty much always give you an answer."
Mashiro hesitated. It showed on her face, which was rare.
She thought of what Chihiro had said last night. Make sure you find out if she likes girls. If Mio didn't—and Mashiro asked anyway—would it push her away?
The thought sent something uncomfortable through her chest.
This feeling... I've never had this before.
"...It's okay. Whenever you're ready." Mio let it go.
She was still curious. What kind of question could tie Mashiro up in knots like this? But she didn't push.
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In the art club room, Eriri Spencer Sawamura was already set up, staring at a blank canvas and trying to decide what to paint.
The club president sidled up to her and murmured, "Eriri, how come we haven't been seeing you and Shirai-san on your little dates in the club room lately?"
"What—we are not dating, I've told you a million times, I'm not into girls!" Eriri said flatly.
Just as the words left her mouth, Mio and Mashiro walked through the door.
Mashiro's silver hair made her impossible to miss. She was a focal point the moment she appeared anywhere.
Eriri's eyes moved to Mio without her meaning to. She saw her every day at club—and every day, it still hit her. How is someone that pretty real.
Mio caught her looking and gave her one of those bright, sweet smiles.
"Long time no see, Sawamura-san~" Mio said as she settled into her spot and started laying out her supplies. "Did you miss me?"
"We see each other every day. You don't need to say things like that." Eriri muttered under her breath. She turned back to explain the situation to the club president—only to find she'd already made herself scarce. And was giving Eriri a very enthusiastic thumbs up from across the room.
I used to get annoyed by this. Eriri thought. Now I'm just... used to it.
Once Mio was settled, Eriri said, "Oh—the sample pages for your doujin are done printing. Do you want to pick them up today, or should I bring them tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow, if you don't mind." Mio glanced briefly at Mashiro, the meaning implicit.
Eriri understood immediately. That was the tragedy of the doujin artist's life—always sneaking around, always one careless moment from being publicly outed. She and Mio had that in common.
She'd been planning to bring up the exhibition too, but once club activities officially started, she turned her attention to the work.
Today was open theme—paint whatever you wanted.
Her first instinct was something from her doujin projects, but she dismissed that immediately. Her eyes drifted, on their own, to Mio—sitting in profile, focused, utterly striking.
...I could paint her.
It was supposed to be a casual thing. Just a quick sketch, nothing serious.
Eriri adjusted the angle of her easel and started.
Mashiro had also chosen Mio as her subject, clearly, and had been building up to this moment since morning. Now that she finally had a legitimate reason to look—and draw—she wasn't wasting it.
Mio, for her part, painted something unrelated: a pretty girl, entirely original, nothing scandalous.
Club time passed.
When the president called it, Eriri looked at her canvas and blinked. Less than a fifth done.
She'd told herself it would be quick. A casual warmup. But she'd started and then just... couldn't stop.
"Is this supposed to be me?"
Eriri startled. Mio was right there, looking at the canvas.
The impulse to cover it was immediate—and Eriri squashed it just as fast. Hiding it would be announcing I have something to hide.
"I-it's nothing. I was just painting something for practice."
"And it came out this good as 'just practice'? I wouldn't expect anything less from Kashiwagi Eri-sensei~" Mio leaned in close to Eriri's ear and kept her voice to a whisper.
"Don't use my pen name at school!" Eriri hissed, shooting Mio a glare.
Mio just smiled—that infuriating, effortlessly smug smile.
"It's fine. Only you can hear me."
Eriri made a low, annoyed sound.
She tucked away the unfinished piece and started gathering her things—and that's when she noticed Mashiro was still painting. Still painting Mio.
Then she heard Mio ask, in a genuinely curious tone, "Mashiro. Am I really that pretty?"
"Mm. Really pretty."
And Mio, in response, looked thoroughly, cheerfully pleased with herself.
"Childish," Eriri muttered under her breath.
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