There are two kinds of girls at St. Lucia's Institute for Girls:
Those who arrive in luxury cars with butlers carrying their schoolbags...
And those who dodge them in the hallway like they're allergic to eye contact.
Guess which one I am?
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The System
St. Lucia's isn't just a school.
It's a kingdom.
With rules.
With borders.
With queens.
It's prestigious, old, and kind of terrifying in how seriously everyone takes things.
Founded over a century ago, it was originally built to "cultivate young ladies of excellence and dignity."
Which apparently means "divide them by status and make everything needlessly dramatic."
We're split into two major Factions, each with its own traditions, identity, and unspoken dress code:
---
Primrose Union.
Elegant. Wealthy. Proper.
If you come from a long line of CEOs, politicians, or families whose names are printed in gold on donation plaques — this is your kingdom.
They walk in synchronized steps and carry teacups like they were born holding them.
They occupy the East Wing of campus. Their dorms are quieter, grander, and probably have better plumbing.
---
Iris House.
The rebels. The commoners. The ones who speak a little louder and live a little freer.
If you've ever been described as "too much" or "not refined enough," welcome. That's us.
We reside in the West Wing — older, creakier, but full of life (and questionable posters taped to the hallway walls).
---
We share the same classrooms only in mixed activities.
Otherwise, we attend separate homerooms, have different student councils, and host rival events that frequently end in chaos.
And yet…
There's one place where the walls disappear — literally and figuratively:
The Courtyard.
A garden square in the center of campus.
Stone benches. Flowerbeds. A gazebo.
A neutral zone.
It's where factions cross paths.
Where stares are exchanged, battles of posture are silently fought, and sometimes — if you're careful — a moment passes without incident.
---
Me? I Just Want a Peaceful Life.
I'm Saki Morishita.
First-year. Iris House.
And honestly? I came to St. Lucia's just hoping for a semi-normal school experience.
You know, the classics:
Join a club. Make a few friends. Maybe crush on someone pretty and kind and completely out of reach.
So far?
I'm one-for-three.
---
That Girl
Airi Shiranami.
Primrose's first-year sweetheart.
She walks like the school was built to match her pace. Graceful without even trying. Her smile? The kind that ruins your concentration for the next three periods.
How did I, a nobody from Iris House, get a girl like her to smile at me?
Honestly?
Just a faithful encounter in our first week. That's all I'll say.
--
The Routine
Every day, like clockwork, we pass by each other in the courtyard.
She's flanked by her silent, spotless entourage.
I'm dodging Riku's energy-drink-fueled conspiracy theories while Minami-senpai debates whether pants should be mandatory.
And right in the middle of it all:
our eyes meet.
> "Good morning, Morishita-san," she says.
Calm. Simple. But just enough warmer than formal.
> "Hey," I say back. Like it's casual. Like it doesn't make my whole stomach flip.
And then we keep walking.
Behind me, Minami-senpai giggles.
Behind her, her friends look at me with confusion.
Welcome to neutral ground, baby.
---
We've Tried
We've tried to talk.
Once she sat near me in the library. I offered her a pen. She said thanks.
Another time, I saw her sneak a strawberry milk onto my tray when I wasn't looking.
We've both circled the idea of "hanging out" without ever saying it out loud.
But every time we get close, something yanks us apart:
A club summons her.
Riku starts shouting about mole people.
Someone starts a paper fan duel. (Don't ask.)
Our factions don't like each other. That's the law. And it means we're never alone for long.
But somehow, she always finds a way to say hi.
And I always find a reason to linger.
And now here we are — exchanging smiles in the hallway, sitting together in the courtyard gazebo whenever we get the chance…
Before someone from either faction inevitably yells, glares, or drops a scandal.
It's not much.
But I'd take five minutes with her over a week of peaceful silence.