Tojo Karen, who had suddenly come to find us, began to lay out her troubles as if venting.
In short, despite her making major moves, the object of her affection, Sakamoto Ryuji, was barely giving her the time of day.
At that, Kishimoto, who had been listening while slurping her kitsune udon, threw a heavy, straight ball at Tojo Karen.
"That's probably because he doesn't see you as a girl, don't you think?"
"What did you say, you punk! Are you trying to start a fight!"
"Calm down."
I stopped Tojo Karen, whose fists were ready to fly before her words, with one hand.
"Tch."
Tojo clicked her tongue and sat back down.
Ignoring her, Kishimoto, who had taken refuge one seat over with her udon bowl, seemed determined to finish what she started and pointed out Tojo's appearance.
"First of all, you say you want to look good for the person you like, but your clothes don't show any of that sentiment. Why don't you start by taking off that tacky tracksuit?"
When Kishimoto, ever the former model, critiqued Tojo's fashion with a serious face, Tojo bit her lip in humiliation and took off the tracksuit jacket she wore over her sailor uniform.
But the sharp remarks didn't stop there.
"Next is your face."
"What?"
"What kind of cosmetics do you use?"
Tojo hesitated before answering Kishimoto's question.
"I just wash up, put on some toner and lotion, and then maybe some sunscreen or BB cream…"
Kishimoto narrowed her eyes and asked.
"Are you some old man? No, even old men these days probably use more products than that. How can a current high school girl be so careless about her appearance?"
"Urk."
Unable to utter a single rebuttal against the relentless barrage of insults, Tojo Karen clutched her chest.
At this point, I was starting to feel sorry for her, but Kishimoto's critique wasn't over yet.
"Before you expect someone to like you, why don't you take a look at yourself first? You talk like a delinquent, dress sloppily, and walk around with a bare face. Trying to win love without even that much effort… isn't that a bit shameless?"
"Gyaaaaaah!"
Finally, with a single scream, she was completely sunk.
On the other hand, Kishimoto, having fired off her non-stop tirade, wiped her forehead with a look of relief.
*Hmm. When it comes to a battle of words, Rika definitely has the upper hand.*
Immediately after, a completely battered Tojo Karen asked with a desperate expression.
"So what am I supposed to do now? Do I have to give up on my feelings for Sakamoto?"
"No, you don't have to do that."
"What?"
As Tojo asked back in surprise, Kishimoto took her hand with the benevolent expression of a saint.
"If you haven't taken care of yourself until now, you can just start from today. Your foundation isn't bad, so with a little polishing, you'll become pretty in no time."
"...Me?"
Tojo Karen still looked half-convinced, but Kishimoto nodded with her usual bright smile.
"With the help of me, the Love Expert, Kishimoto Rika."
"Love Expert…"
Hearing a title I had never imagined, I felt a shiver run down my entire body.
Kishimoto then held up two fingers.
"My first piece of advice for you, Tojo, is to work on your appearance. The second is to treat the person you like to a home-cooked meal."
"A home-cooked meal?"
"You know what they say. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach."
"Ooh…"
Unlike her initial skepticism, Tojo Karen's expression was now one of complete conversion.
"But I don't know how to cook. Do I have to learn that now, too?"
Kishimoto chuckled, "Fufu," and wagged her index finger.
"Don't worry about that! Ryuji here will teach you!"
Excuse me? I will?
I stared at Kishimoto in shock as she proceeded without my consent, but she just grinned shamelessly and said.
"You're not going to see Papa, are you?"
That sealed my fate.
"...Of course, I'd be happy to help."
Damn it.
***
The next day.
After school, we went to Tojo Karen's house.
"Whoa~ It's huge~"
"Hmph, this is nothing special."
As the daughter of a famous manga artist, Kishimoto was certainly from a very wealthy family, but Tojo Karen's house was on a completely different level.
It was, quite literally, a massive martial family estate in the middle of the city.
As the black sedan entered the estate, which looked to be at least several acres, the yakuza who were on standby bowed in unison.
""Welcome back, Young Miss!""
"Yeah."
When the driver opened the door, Tojo Karen emerged with a casual wave and walked slowly down the marble path.
Curious gazes fell upon Kishimoto and me as we followed her out of the car.
"Are they friends of the Young Miss?"
"For a second, I thought they were assassins sent from another organization."
"That guy… he's got some good muscle on him."
I did my best to ignore their whispers and followed Tojo's small back.
The place she led us to was a spacious room with tatami mat floors.
A scroll painting of an orchid, an expensive-looking vase, a baseball bat and glove, and various pieces of exercise equipment scattered about.
The room had a somewhat unbalanced feel to it.
I looked around and asked.
"Where is this?"
Tojo Karen put down the school bag she was holding and said.
"My room."
Kishimoto was startled.
"This is your room, Tojo?"
"Yeah, is there a problem?"
"No, it's just that it doesn't seem all that different from Ryuji's room I saw last time."
"Hmph."
As if struck a sore spot, Tojo replied with a pout.
"Anyway, that's not what's important right now."
"Ah, you're right."
Kishimoto said, clapping her hands, then offered Tojo Karen the paper bag she had been carrying since we arrived.
"This is a gift from me."
"...A gift?"
"I went to a cosmetics store yesterday and picked out everything I thought you might need. I wrote down the types of basic skincare products on a memo, so when you run out, you can just refer to that to buy more."
It was a gift Kishimoto had prepared entirely at her own expense for someone she had only known for a few days.
After checking the contents of the paper bag, Tojo Karen looked at Kishimoto with a slightly surprised expression, then scratched her cheek and said.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Kishimoto replied with a bright smile.
***
"Anyway, let's start by learning how to use the makeup."
"Got it."
Following Kishimoto's words, Tojo Karen turned the paper bag in her arms upside down.
*Clatter, clatter!*
A cascade of cosmetics and makeup tools spilled out.
Kishimoto began to explain them one by one.
"This is toner and lotion, BB cream, foundation, powder, mascara, an eyebrow pencil…"
Just hearing the list made my head spin.
And Tojo, who rarely used makeup, also looked like her eyes were spinning in circles.
"W-Wait a minute."
"Hm? Do you have a question?"
"Could you show me how it's done first? I don't get what's what just from hearing you talk."
Kishimoto said, "Huh? It's not that hard," and put down the cosmetics and tools she was holding.
"Do you have a big mirror in the room? It's easier to understand this stuff if you can see it."
"...Wait a second. I'll have one of the servants bring one right away."
Tojo Karen said this, shaking her head, then opened the sliding paper door and left.
It seemed she was using it as an excuse to get some fresh air.
***
About ten minutes later, Tojo Karen, who had stepped outside, returned to the room with a vanity mirror.
Kishimoto had Tojo Karen sit directly in front of her and picked up her brushes and pencils with a serious expression.
It was like a master sizing up a block of marble before beginning to sculpt.
And time flew by in an instant.
Honestly, I still didn't know the types of cosmetics or tools, but I could tell Kishimoto's makeup skills were superb just by watching Tojo's face change in real-time.
After about thirty minutes of full makeup and hair styling, Kishimoto stepped back with a satisfied look and said.
"A masterpiece, born from my very soul."
That certainly wasn't an exaggeration.
It was practically a complete metamorphosis.
Once she was given permission to look, Tojo Karen cautiously glanced at her reflection in the vanity mirror and murmured in a daze.
"...*Kore ga watashi*?"
No, wait! Brain, stop auto-translating!
The scene was such a cliché that I couldn't help but shudder.
My brain must have been pickled in romantic comedies.
"...This is me?"
Tojo's voice finally sounded normal.
In the mirror, she blinked her moistened brown eyes, now wearing circle lenses.
Her face had been pretty enough without makeup, but now that it was done, she looked like a celestial maiden.
As Tojo repeatedly touched her own face in disbelief, Kishimoto, who had been watching quietly from the side, asked.
"So? How does it feel to wear makeup for the first time in your life?"
"...I have no choice but to admit it. I didn't know anything."
"You can just fix things one by one, starting now. You still have plenty of time!"
From my perspective as an observer, the conversation between the two of them felt like a scene from a teen drama.
As I watched them with a pleased smile, arms crossed and nodding, the arrow suddenly turned to me.
"Alright! I've taught her plenty about how to do her makeup, so now it's your turn, Ryuji!"
Ah.