Yuno released Tsukisa's hand, lifted her skirt, and spun on the lawn.
Flash of white teeth behind a grin: "If you keep treating me this well, I might—just might—think about considering you."
She forced the words out; pastel-pink hair fluttered like butterflies with the whirling hem.
A soft, radiant smile: "Only thinking about it, mind you! First you'll have to court me—properly."
"You can't just ask 'do you like me?' and expect a yes. I'm no fool."
Yuno lifted her chin proudly. "Miss Sen Getsusa, how many girls have you snared with that line?"
Looking at the lively sprite before her, Tsukisa couldn't help laughing. "Haha! Lately I've been… jumpy. I was scared you'd—"
"Fall for you?" Yuno leaned in until their faces almost touched.
"Exactly," Tsukisa lifted her chin. "I'm too gorgeous—"
"Enough, Sen Getsusa." Yuno turned serious. "Your orientation isn't mine. I want to be close because you're family. Family, got it? Family peck on the cheek—problem?"
Oh… no problem?
…(;'?`)>
Though the logic felt odd, Tsukisa couldn't find a flaw.
"Of course family can peck cheeks!" Yuno's peach-coloured eyes narrowed playfully. "Holding hands—also fine?"
N-no problem… right?
(?_?;)???
"Forehead kiss too?"
No problem…?
Half-dazed, Tsukisa weathered Yuno's rapid fire: "Then this? And this? That too?"
"Look, your orientation is your own hurdle. If you avoid or doubt me because of it, I'll be heartbroken…"
"This is normal girl-friendship. Are you saying what we have can't even match that?"
Tears pooled again… "Going to cry again?" Tsukisa smirked. "Shame, shame."
She pressed her thumb to Yuno's forehead, slid it down the bridge of her nose, and tapped her lips.
"I hear you. I'll fix it."
In that instant the grass brightened, clouds drifted, and time resumed its march.
Yuno's eyes fluttered open.
"Good girl, Sen Getsusa." She studied her, feigning worry. "Was I too selfish?"
"Hmm? Not at all." Tsukisa bumped shoulders. "It was never a big deal—besides, I still like my cool Yuno best."
"Tsukisa, you're wonderful!" Yuno flung herself onto the girl's arm, hanging off her, laughter pure and bright.
"Come on, too much drama for one day…" Tsukisa shook her head at her own jumpiness and hurried off, Yuno dangling like an accessory.
Still had to help set up the new house.
Yuno clung to her, half-suspended. From behind their walk looked oddly lopsided.
Ehehe… The sun shifted, leaving only tiny footprints on the lawn… and a few glistening drops no one noticed.
Movers carried boxes inside while the kids argued over rooms—who slept downstairs, who upstairs.
Miko and Oishi stood as boy-and-girl reps, surrounded, trading verbal blows.
At least that's how Oishi and the boys described it.
To the girls it was one-sided scolding… until Aria returned and shut everyone up.
After consultation between supreme ruler Grandma Ailiya and Tsukisa—backed unanimously by the girls—the verdict stood: all boys on the ground floor, no negotiation.
The girls could choose to live on the second or third floor as they saw fit—the fourth floor had almost no rooms; half of its space had been opened up into an open-air swimming pool, with corrosion-resistant wood covering the outdoor area as decking. In summer you could swim, and in winter, with a cover in place, you could barbecue.
A locked electrical switch had been installed above the pool, and only Aria knew the code, to keep the children from sneaking in to play while she was away and risking another drowning accident.
Sen Getsusa had turned the other half of the fourth floor into an art gallery.
Every Child in the orphanage would leave a photo there each year as a record of his or her growth.
Beneath each record were certificates of honor, group photos with Sen Getsusa and Aria, occasional scribbled complaints—every trivial detail of life sealed away inside elegant glass cases.
The practice had begun long ago, and Aria had paid out plenty of snacks and soda to persuade the children to keep it up every year.
Now a few girls had already sensed Aria's intentions and were even more eager to leave all kinds of photos and memories. They were also the ones who clung to her most often and kept her company.
Perhaps, in the future, more and more children would take the initiative to join in.
That was the layout from the first to the fourth floor.
As for the Underground Room, it had originally been split in two, apparently designed for storage: one half for red wine, the other half for a cigar room where stogies and pipe tobacco could be kept.
But Sen Getsusa had no interest in that and didn't want her cubs turning into drunks or chain-smokers, so—over the designer's heartbroken protests—she had the renovated basement torn out and converted into a home theater.
The expensive cedar panels and the handful of wine bottles were either sold off or hidden away by Sen Getsusa. A few bottles were tossed into the house, ready to be given to Hiratsuka Shizuka next time.
As for the home theater, it might have been the single most expensive part of the renovation, yet for the girl it was still a drop in the bucket.
'Then please check the items, including any damage. I'll just wait here.'
When the movers finished, the manager handed Sen Getsusa the delivery list to sign.
Aria waved the children off to inspect their own belongings.
She herself owned very little; she only needed to glance over the big pieces for dents or scratches—honestly, if there were any, she wasn't sure whether to feel worse for the house's finish or for her own worthless furniture.
Sen Getsusa sat on the sofa with her little pendant dangling, chatting line after line with the manager, who couldn't help sighing repeatedly.
'Your house is truly something else.'
As someone who led moving teams for a living, he had seen plenty of family homes.
He'd seen plenty of wealthy mansions, but for a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old girl to produce a place this luxurious at the wave of a hand—now that was shocking.
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