The impossible luxury of the academy's noble ladies became clear once again to Haramura Makoto.
Even on holidays, both indoor and outdoor pools overflowed with people—places Shokuhou Misaki, loathing crowds, would never willingly enter.
Yet today, the pool was a required stop. She led Makoto to a grand modern European–style villa.
"Is this one of your family's properties?" Makoto asked.
"No," Misaki replied, waving a finger. Standing before the villa gates, she pulled a remote from her handbag and pressed it. Within seconds, the quiet estate filled with the clip-clop of approaching footsteps.
A gray-purple–haired girl in Tokiwadai uniform swept in, followed by about ten maids. She paused before Misaki and bowed deeply.
"Apologies for the wait, Your Majesty."
"No need to apologize," Misaki said, waving her hand. As the iron gates slid open, she turned to the attendant.
"Though a bit last-minute, everything is ready. This gentleman must be the guest you invited?"
The gray-eyed attendant glanced curiously at Makoto—the first time she'd seen Misaki so flustered: anxious, rambling, even affectionate, like a lovestruck schoolgirl. She burned to know which man could stir such emotions in her queen.
"Junko, you should introduce yourself properly," Misaki teased.
"My apologies," the attendant—Junko Hanakaze—regained composure. "I'm Junko Hanakaze, first-year at Tokiwadai Middle School and Shokuhou Misaki's retainer. And you must be Haramura Makoto, Miss Shokuhou's friend. Welcome."
With that, Junko and the maids escorted them past the front yard and around the side to a backyard the size of a soccer field—half dominated by a vast swimming pool. Around it, seven or eight lounge chairs stood beside tables laden with fruit platters and chilled juices. Half the pool was shaded by large umbrellas.
"This is Junko's family villa," Misaki said, settling onto a chair and sipping juice. "I could use my own pool, but hers is far more spacious."
Students from noble families worldwide attended Tokiwadai; their parents often forged ties with Academy City by providing land and resources for exclusive estates. Misaki and Junko lived off campus by rule.
"This is perfect," she added. "Even if you learn slowly, no one will mock you here."
"Not that I mind," Makoto replied.
Misaki straightened her posture—shyness vanished, replaced by her usual calm grace, only disrupted by this unexpected man. "I'll change into my swimsuit now."
"I'll wait here," Makoto said, shading her from the sun with her parasol.
Though her chance of mastering swimming was slim, she wasn't concerned—her swimsuit mattered most. Clutching a small BALNEAIRE bag, she strutted back into the villa like a peacock displaying its tail.
"Good grief," Makoto muttered, retrieving his own bag and heading to the nearby changing room.
…
"So really, just a swimsuit change," Makoto mused as he relaxed on a lounge chair, having switched in under three seconds.
"Why the lengthy preparation?" he sighed. Refreshing juices had come and gone; his ease was complete.
"Who told you swimming needs no makeup?" Misaki retorted, stepping out from the villa. "Even waterproof basics are necessary."
"And you said you wanted a bit of peace and quiet—are you calling me noisy?"
Is it a law of the universe that when someone criticizes, they immediately materialize within earshot? Whether others noticed or not, Makoto was used to it and felt no embarrassment.
"I wasn't calling you noisy," Misaki replied. "I was talking about finding the best way to teach you to swim."