♪♪♪
TWO hours later: Midori strolled into the room right when our lessons ended. “Done for the day?”
“Yup, we just finished.” Exhausted, I put my music paper and pen case inside my lesson bag.
Midori sauntered over to the table, her fluffy curls bouncing behind her. “Your hair is such a cute pink, Mashiro! Maybe I should dye my hair that color next time,” she remarked as she fixed an envious gaze on my hair.
“Is that not your real hair color?” I asked.
“Nope. I used to have the same green hair as Noboru. It’s ridiculous to have green hair and a name that literally means green, so I dyed it.”
Midori was yet another victim to the bad naming scheme belonging to Hear My Heart’s developers.
Out of the corner of my eye I spied Kon nodding vehemently. “I totally understand your pain.” Kon had been through a lot because of her name too.
“Noboru, we’re going out for a bit! Catch you later!”
“You are? I wanna go too. I’m famished.”
“Absolut nicht!” Midori shot him down in German. “Today is a girls-only lunch party.” She stretched up on her tippy-toes and pecked him on the cheek, then slipped between Kon and me and linked arms with us. She flashed us the most charming of smiles. “I reserved the café in advance. I hope you like Italian. Can your chauffeur take us there, Kon?”
“Of course.”
“Great! Then let’s go!”
We piled into Kon’s car with Midori. She didn’t even bat an eye at the Rolls-Royce Mr. Nonaga drove exclusively for Kon.
The Misaka family had a historic financial conglomerate to its name that was even listed in contemporary history books. Midori gave us the short version of why Maestro Noboru, the son and heir to the prestigious Misaka family, lived such a paltry lifestyle.
“Noboru wants to live independently,” she explained. “He got into an argument with our grandfather over it. Grandfather promised he’d allow him to leave the house if he made a lasting impact in the International Chopin Piano Competition. So Noboru entered the competition, even though he hates competing with a passion. Well, he didn’t win, but came close enough that Father and Grandfather are letting him run free for now.”
“I see. The rich have problems only rich people have,” I commented.
Boy, am I glad I was born to a middle-class family, I earnestly believed.
Midori started giggling. “You sound so disconnected from it! Most people would normally have stars in their eyes and try to get favors from friends like me and Kon.”
“Meh, I’m satisfied with my current life.”
I wasn’t so naïve as to say I didn’t want money. But growing up and earning money with my own skills was more my style. Some part of me was cowardly when it came to money, because my stomach killed me every time I received expensive gifts from Miss Sakurako and Miss Chisako.
I had only expressed my honest opinion, but it deepened Midori’s grin. “I like you, Mashiro. This is the first time I’ve agreed with Sou’s opinion on something.”
“Uh…thanks?” I answered hesitantly, unsure of how else to reply. Midori happily wrapped her arms around me in a big hug. The way she became attached to people was on par with Sou. They were very similar.
Hating somebody who’s just like you…yup, that fits for them.
✦ ✦ ✦
♪♪♪
WE eventually arrived at a chic restaurant that felt a lot like a place you might find in The Secret Garden.
Starting with the bruschetta, the waiters brought out mouthwatering dish after mouthwatering dish, including a mozzarella cheese and tomato salad, trofie with pesto alla Genovese, and oven-baked freshwater prawns.
I spent the whole time until they brought out the espresso and homemade gelato adding up the total price. Mom had given me a 5,000 yen allowance, but that didn’t seem like it’d even dent the bill.
Kon must’ve noticed my sheer horror over the abysmal prices because she softly whispered in my ear. “I’ll help you pay for it. Don’t let it ruin your day, okay?”
“O-Okay. Would you mind advancing me the money then? I’ll be sure to pay you back later.”
Midori seemed to have overheard our conversation because she arched an eyebrow at us. “They won’t charge us. I assume Father will pay for it later. I’ve never carried cash on me before.”
What the heck kind of confession is that?! Feeling the energy drain from me, I narrowly avoided banging my forehead against the pure white lacey tablecloth. Was it okay to have a girl I’d only met twice pay for my meal?
“Anyways, can we start talking about Sou now? I’m dying to rant about him to someone else.” Midori kicked my internal conflict to the curb and began her endless rant about just how horrible Sou was to her. “No matter what I say to him, he just gives me this frigid look with his arms crossed and barely acknowledges me. The few times he does open his mouth it’s always ‘Mashiro this’ or ‘Mashiro that.’ I’m always like, sure, sure, you’ve made your point loud and clear. I mean, it’s not like I want to see him either. Who does he think he is?!”
If he was just like his game version then he was supposed to be a pompous, overconfident, and narcissistic oresama.
“So I got the bright idea to become besties with you, Mashiro, and irritate him with our friendship! Take a selfie with me later, okay? I’m gonna brag his ear off once I go home.” She must’ve had some serious resentment pent up because she snickered and gloated as she spoke.
Kon couldn’t resist bursting into laughter over Midori’s simple yet evil plan. “Are you really okay with things going well between Mashiro and Shiroyama? Wouldn’t that only make him happy?”
“Well, Sou’s had a pretty miserable life. I’d never wish for him to be eternally unhappy. I don’t care what happens as long as we can get rid of this ridiculous engagement.”
It was funny seeing Midori’s face twist with annoyance over the whole ordeal. I was also relieved knowing she was aware of Sou’s circumstances.
“But Sou and me dating is out of the question. I mean, I can’t even begin to imagine us together. The potential problems only just begin with the fact that he’s living all the way in Germany now,” I explained.
Midori shrugged. “You don’t really know Sou if you think he’s going to be an obedient little boy and stay in Germany forever. Mashiro, you’d better mentally prepare yourself! Once Sou returns to Japan, he’s going to be on your case more than ever before!”
“P-Please don’t make scary predictions.”
Midori giggled at my grimace.