For some reason, the saint of our school drops her façade when she's with me (GL) - Chapter 16

“Freshly fried fries are delicious.”

“You’ve discovered one of the universal truths of the world.”

Luck was on our side—we got our fries freshly fried, and once you taste them like that, you never want to settle for takeout again.

I couldn’t help but think that this was exactly the kind of clever strategy the fast-food industry thrived on. Still, I enjoyed my fries all the same.

“The ones you brought for me before were great too, but eating them fresh is definitely a different experience.”

“Right?”

Even if I rushed back from the fast-food place near school, the difference in taste after just a short distance was noticeable.

I had pretty low standards when it came to food, so I could enjoy them even when they were cold. But if given the choice, of course, I’d prefer to eat them fresh.

“Here, have one of mine.”

“Then I shall return the favor.”

We exchanged fries in a completely pointless trade, but the Saint seemed to be having fun, so whatever.

“What’s the plan for the rest of the day?”

“We still have time, right?”

“Yes, my whole day is free.”

In that case, we could visit a few more places.

“…If I had met you earlier, do you think things would have been different?”

I didn’t ask what exactly she meant.

“I have a fair number of friends, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

I was well aware that the Saint kept her social circles wide yet shallow.

“But even when invited, I never went to places like this.”

It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested.

The way she was fully enjoying herself today made that obvious.

She just hadn’t wanted to go with the people who had invited her before.

“I don’t reject friendships, and I don’t deny socializing. But the people I choose to truly spend time with—the ones I let take me places—are those who know the real me and like me for who I am.”

It was probably a small, yet deeply personal wish of hers.

Something she wasn’t willing to compromise on.

“So, I passed the test?”

“If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here now.”

I didn’t dislike the way that sounded.

Somewhere deep inside, a certain part of me—the one that was needlessly complicated—felt a twisted kind of satisfaction.

I knew what it was.

Right now, it was small, but if my feelings ever became clear, this desire would grow into something large and ugly.

I shouldn’t let it take root.

But I couldn’t bring myself to cut it off completely.

As long as I had a heart, this was something I could never escape.

If I ever became ugly because of it…

What would the Saint think of me then?

“Suzuki-san, it seems they’re releasing a limited-time frappe next month.”

The Saint, looking cheerful as ever, was reading a small promotional sign.

It seemed she wanted to come back.

“It does sound good. We should come again.”

“Yes, definitely.”

Her response was immediate.

And it wasn’t her usual ‘Saintly’ smile—it was Aizome Karen’s real smile.

Would it trouble her if I said I wanted to see that smile more often?

I had a feeling that if I did, she would only lean in even more.

But the thought of being rejected—that I might end up like my mother—terrified me.

Setting aside those dark thoughts, I took another sip of my shake.

Sweet things really are comforting.

Just as I was about to relax, a hand reached out and took my shake, followed by the Saint sipping from it with a sensual smile.

…Could she not make that face?

It makes me want to keep her all to myself.

After finishing our incredibly unhealthy lunch, we visited a few more stores nearby.

We browsed clothing stores, tried on outfits just for fun, and even wandered into a lingerie shop—where I was utterly devastated upon discovering the Saint’s size.

We checked out a shoe store where I found a nice pair I debated buying.

I noticed that while the Saint did look at clothes for herself, she seemed far more interested in picking outfits for me.

I wasn’t a dress-up doll, you know?

Still, there was no way I could shake her off when she looked that happy.

At the very least, I managed to stop her from spending an absurd amount of her own money on buying me clothes.

That would’ve been such a waste.

After wandering around, we stopped by a bookstore.

We browsed through the manga, light novels, and magazines. I found a new pure literature release that seemed interesting, while the Saint was drawn to the card section adjacent to the bookstore.

“There are a lot of adults here.”

“Looks like there’s a tournament happening today.”

The high age range of card game players wasn’t surprising, but even in a small space like this, a tournament managed to attract a decent crowd.

Since it was part of the bookstore, the loud cheers from the players occasionally filtered through the quiet aisles of bookshelves, creating an amusing contrast.

“If I remember correctly, Aizome-san, you collect a few different card games, don’t you?”

“I bought them on a whim. The only person I ever played against was you, though.”

Even though she barely knew the rules, she still managed to put together a remarkably well-constructed deck.

She probably did some research online.

I could kind of understand why adults were drawn to card games.

I wasn’t obsessed, but it was fun to play and chat with someone while doing it.

In the end, I bought the latest volume from a four-panel manga artist I’d been following, as well as a novel recommended by the Saint.

I hadn’t planned to spend money here, but I wasn’t regretting it.

As we stepped outside, a sweet aroma wafted through the air from a nearby crepe stand.

“Should we get one?”

“That sounds nice.”

I picked a simple strawberry crepe, while the Saint went for a seasonal special loaded with toppings.

As I was enjoying the sinful sweetness, I noticed a bit of cream on the Saint’s lips.

“Aizome-san, you’ve got something there.”

“Oh? Then, please wipe it off for me.”

…That phrasing feels off.

I knew she was doing it on purpose, but I still took out my handkerchief and wiped her mouth.

She looked slightly dissatisfied, then, as if nothing had happened, another dollop of cream somehow ended up on her lips again.

“Take two.”

She wasn’t even trying to hide it.

Thinking for a moment about what she actually wanted, I reached out with my finger, scooped up the cream, and—before my brain could scream at me—licked it off.

I glanced at her.

She looked extremely pleased as she resumed eating her crepe.

…Does she not have any shame?

I tried to ignore the weird fluttering in my chest by focusing on my own crepe.

“Suzuki-san, now you’ve got something on your lips.”

“Huh? Really?”

“Yes, right here.”

With a soft touch, she cupped my cheek and traced her finger along my lips.

A shiver ran down my spine at the ticklish sensation, mixed with something else I couldn’t quite name.

She let her finger linger for a moment before slowly lifting the cream from my lips, gazing at it playfully—then, with deliberate slowness, she licked it off.

“Thanks for the treat.”

…Watching her do that made me feel nervous.

She wasn’t a Saint—she was a damn witch.

It was way too seductive.

But reacting honestly felt like losing, so I tried to act indifferent.

“Thanks,” I said flatly.

She just smiled, watching me like she could see right through my act.

Of course, the fact that her favorite part of today was teasing me was so like her.

And the fact that I let her get away with it…

Yeah, that was on me.

Since we were nearby, we stopped by the arcade.

The Saint was absolutely fascinated by crane games and rhythm games.

We tried out various machines, and no matter what she played, she was weirdly good at all of them.

“Maybe I should try the taiko drum game next.”

“You never learned it?”

“I’ve learned most instruments, but the taiko instructor I was supposed to have… disappeared, and the lessons were postponed indefinitely.”

…Did she mean the teacher bailed?

“So instead of lifting it, you hook it and move it?”

“Yeah, that’s how it works with figure prizes.”

Most boxed prizes were designed to be nudged off with one claw rather than lifted directly.

The Saint must have understood this just from observing because she managed to drop the prize in a single try.

“I got it… but what should we do with it?”

“Well, it’s just going to be extra baggage.”

Neither of us particularly cared for this character.

“Then let’s give it away.”

Before I could even process what she was doing, the Saint had already moved.

She handed the prize to a middle-school couple who had been trying and failing to win the same one, their faces lighting up with excitement.

“Are you sure about giving it away?”

“It was just a test play. Consider it a blessing from the Saint to a young, innocent couple.”

Yeah, that’s probably how they saw it.

Still—

“You don’t have to play the Saint all the time, you know.”

I let the words slip without thinking.

Because I knew.

I knew that the Saint didn’t actually like wearing that mask.

And yet, seeing her put it on in front of me left a strange, uncomfortable feeling in my chest.

“Fufu. You’re right. Maybe I don’t have to.”

The Saint smiled, as if she had picked up on my mood.

“Suzuki-san, you’re adorable.”

“Is that a compliment or an insult?”

“It’s a compliment. It’s because of that part of you that I feel comfortable showing my true self.”

“Oh, is that so.”

It was a weak attempt at a deflection, but I knew my embarrassment was obvious.

“Suzuki-san.”

“What?”

“Let me make it up to you.”

“…I want that one.”

I pointed at a plushie in one of the crane games.

I knew I was falling right into her hands, but the Saint wasted no time, dropping the plush in one shot and handing it to me.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

“This one’s really cute. Now I want one too.”

“Then I’ll get it for you this time.”

“I shall leave it to my gallant knight, then.”

Who’s a knight now?

Still, after five attempts, I managed to win a different version of the same plushie.

“In the end, we just ended up with more stuff to carry.”

“That’s true. But matching ones are non-negotiable.”

It seemed that today’s charity work was officially over.

The fact that I was secretly pleased about that probably meant I’d get stabbed by the Saint’s fan club someday.

Oh well.

“Aizome-san.”

“Yes?”

“We’ve got more to carry now, but… will you still stick with me a little longer?”

“Gladly.”

Winning the plushie was unexpected, but seeing how happy the Saint was to have matching ones, I couldn’t exactly tell her to leave it behind.

Besides, I’d long accepted that shopping trips almost always resulted in more baggage.

After finishing up at the arcade, we wandered through the shopping district, enjoying some aimless window-shopping.

It felt different from when I went out with Mizuki.

Was it because she was the one I was with?

I found myself occasionally glancing at the Saint as she smiled at our matching plushies.

Each time, I had to shake myself back to reality.

My emotions were all over the place today.

When was the last time I felt this way?

Before I met my uncle or Mizuki, back when I was still with my mother, my only concern was avoiding pain.

Looking back objectively, I knew I had been in a dangerous situation—bad enough that I considered myself lucky just to have survived.

But after my uncle took me in, I started regaining a normal sense of self.

Meeting Mizuki allowed me to become a more ordinary version of myself.

And yet, the Saint had a way of disrupting that balance.

She stirred something in me—something that felt like she was trying to pull out the real me.

Ever since I met her, she’s been throwing me off.

And the thing is—I didn’t dislike it.

Spending time with her, I could feel a side of myself emerging that even I didn’t fully recognize.

And somewhere within that, I already knew the answer to how I felt about her.

Even so—

No, because of that—

For now, I just wanted to enjoy this moment.

Even if, soon enough, I would have to face those feelings head-on.