Honestly, Harumura Makoto was once again reminded—through Shokuhou Misaki—that the lives of these noble young ladies were truly extravagant.
During holidays like this, whether it was an indoor or outdoor pool, every single one was packed to the brim.
And for someone like Shokuhou Misaki, who loathed crowded places with every fiber of her being, stepping into such an environment was absolutely out of the question.
Yet today, visiting a swimming pool was an unavoidable item on her agenda.
So here they were.
Standing in front of a lavish mansion whose overall design leaned toward modern European style.
"Mm, is this your family's property?"
"No, not at all."
Misaki shook her finger lightly as she stood at the front gate. From her handbag, she pulled out a remote control and pressed a button without ceremony.
Only a few seconds later, the previously silent mansion erupted in a flurry of footsteps.
Approaching them was a girl in Tokiwadai's school uniform with wavy, ash-purple hair, followed by a small army of about ten maids.
"My apologies for keeping you waiting, Queen."
The wavy-haired girl stopped before Misaki and bowed deeply, her apology full of sincerity.
"Think nothing of it," Misaki replied with a casual wave. "I only notified you just now, after all. More importantly—everything's ready, yes?"
The iron gates slowly slid open to either side. Misaki gestured again, indicating that the other girl need not take it to heart.
"It was a bit rushed, but everything's been prepared. And this is the guest you wanted to invite, Queen?"
Her gaze shifted to Harumura Makoto, grey eyes brimming with curiosity as they took in his figure.
As Shokuhou Misaki's right-hand girl and constant companion, she had never once—since meeting her Queen—seen her in the state she'd been in last night: flustered, rambling, eyes brimming with tender emotion.
She'd looked for all the world like a maiden in love.
So yes—she was very, very curious to know exactly who this man was to evoke such a reaction.
"Junko, at a time like this, wouldn't it be more proper to introduce yourself first?"
Before Makoto could respond, Misaki cut in—not with an introduction, but with a reprimand.
"Ah, my apologies. That was rude of me."
Hokaze Junko straightened her posture at once.
"First year, Tokiwadai Middle School—Hokaze Junko, a follower of the Queen."
"Harumura Makoto, a friend of Miss Shokuhou. Thank you for having me today."
The introductions remained purely formal under Misaki's watchful eye. With nothing further exchanged, Junko departed with all the maids in tow.
They skirted past the main entrance and courtyard, heading to the rear of the mansion.
And there lay the real reason for today's visit.
A backyard the size of a football field—half of which was taken up by a massive swimming pool.
Seven or eight lounge chairs lined the poolside, each paired with a table already set with neatly cut fruit platters and chilled juice.
A large sunshade covered about half the pool, casting a cool shadow over the water.
"This is Junko's family's villa," Misaki explained. "I could have used my own, but mine isn't as spacious. So I thought borrowing hers would be better."
She strolled to one of the loungers and sat down gracefully, lifting a glass of juice with perfect poise.
As she'd mentioned before—Tokiwadai was made up almost entirely of noble daughters from around the world.
Their families didn't simply dump them in the city and leave them be; in most cases, they maintained active cooperation with Academy City.
Sending their daughters here was often part of demonstrating that goodwill.
And with such connections, in a place where every inch of land was worth a fortune, they naturally had the means to own property here.
As for why Misaki and Junko didn't live in their family homes—that was simply Tokiwadai's rules.
"It's a nice place," Makoto remarked.
"Here, even if your progress in swimming is slow, no one's going to laugh at you."
"Who said that's why I chose this place? I chose it because it's quiet. Quiet, got it? I'll learn quickly, no problem."
Normally unshaken by pride or shame—exactly as befit the top-ranked mental esper in Academy City—Misaki found her emotions oddly difficult to control whenever she was with this man.
She lifted her chin stubbornly, denying any embarrassment.
"Anyway, I'm going to get changed."
"You could just change right here, you know."
Whether she learned to swim today hardly mattered—the real focus was her swimsuit.
Today, she was determined to correct this man's twisted sense of aesthetics.
With a small bag marked BALANEAIRE in hand, she strutted toward the mansion like a peacock showing off its plumage.
"What a pain…"
Makoto muttered under his breath, picking up his own bag and heading to the simple changing booth by the poolside.
…
"So seriously, it's just a swimsuit—No makeup involved—how could it take this long?"
Lounging comfortably, Makoto sipped glass after glass of juice, thoroughly relaxed.
His own changing process had taken all of three seconds—off with the old, on with the new, done.
"Well, I guess a bit of peace and quiet isn't bad."
"Who says swimming doesn't need makeup? You still need basic waterproof coverage. And what's this about 'peace and quiet,' hmm? Are you saying I'm noisy the rest of the time?"
Was this some kind of universal law?
Talk about someone, and they inevitably appear—overhearing just the right snippet to make things awkward.
At least in Makoto's life, this happened often enough that he wasn't the slightest bit flustered anymore.
"Of course not. I was just thinking of the best way to teach you swimming."