For some reason, the saint of our school drops her façade when she's with me (GL) - Chapter 2

 

The end-of-term exams are approaching.

During the midterm exams, I was somewhere in the middle of the rankings. Given my less-than-stellar memory, I thought that was actually a decent result.

However, there are people who don’t even bother to study—almost as if mocking those of us struggling.

One such person is my best friend, Mizuki.

“As long as you memorize the important parts, it’s a breeze, right?”

She says that so casually, but considering she can memorize the entire textbook and even my notes with ease, exams are nothing more than an extension of a game for her.

I don’t understand it, but I suppose that’s the difference between talent and mediocrity.

“Oh? Now this is unusual. Seeing you with a textbook open here… Are you in danger of failing or something?”

After school that day, I arrived at the clubroom and, feeling a bit anxious about the exams, cracked open my textbook to study. That was when she walked in, making such an unnecessarily rude remark.

Mizuki can effortlessly rank in the top ten, and she—the so-called Saint—is consistently at the very top of the grade.

It seems like I’m surrounded by nothing but prodigies.

It’s unfair, but I’ve accepted it as just the way things are.

“So, Aizome, how are you feeling about the end-of-term exams?”

“I review and prepare every day, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

The key difference between Mizuki and the Saint is their study habits.

Unlike Mizuki, who doesn’t study at all, the Saint maintains her top ranking through consistent effort and her naturally high aptitude.

Between the two, I find myself more genuinely impressed by her.

“Suzuki, if I recall correctly, you’re not very good at math and science, are you? Would you like me to tutor you?”

“Really? You’d help me?”

“Of course.”

She smiles at me—the same smile I often see in class.

For some reason, that smile irks me a little.

“Heh, that’s interesting. You’re the only one who reacts like that to my usual smile, Suzuki.”

It must have shown on my face.

I should be more careful.

“Well then… In return, treat me to a hamburger after the exams. That will be my tutoring fee.”

“That’s fine, but… just a hamburger?”

“If you’d prefer, I can book a high-end fine-dining restaurant instead.”

“A hamburger it is!”

There’s no way a commoner like me could afford to step into one of those elite restaurants. Who knows how many stacks of cash I’d have to say goodbye to? When I firmly agreed to the hamburger, the Saint nodded in satisfaction.

She begins tutoring me, and surprisingly, her explanations are incredibly easy to understand.

Even I, who often struggled to keep up with the teachers’ lectures, could grasp the material with ease. No wonder people often seek her help.

“Aizome, you’d probably make a great teacher.”

I blurt out my thoughts without thinking.

The Saint smirks.

“Oh? So you’re into female teachers? That’s quite the niche taste.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

How did we go from discussing teaching ability to personal preferences?

I mean, I don’t dislike the idea, but I wouldn’t exactly call it my thing either.

“If all my students were like you, I wouldn’t mind teaching.”

“Like me?”

“Not the brightest, but at least you’re motivated.”

I feel like I should apologize for being such a subpar student.

“Compared to you, I’m sure the other classmates must be boring.”

“I don’t think I’m all that interesting either.”

“Your existence is amusing, so you’re safe.”

Is that supposed to be a compliment?

I guess it is…? I’m not sure if I should be happy about it, though.

“Still, you put on quite the performance as the ‘Saint’ in class.”

“People expect it from me, so I deliver. It’s well-received, and I’ve long since mastered the art of playing a role.”

Hearing her say that so nonchalantly sends a chill down my spine.

It’s unsettling.

“Suzuki, you always maintain a neutral demeanor.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. Every time I look at you, I think to myself… I’d love to twist you into my ideal shape.”

“That’s way too sadistic!”

Also, is that something you should say to someone’s face?!

I can’t tell if she’s serious or just messing with me, but I have no choice but to continue studying.

She focuses on teaching me math and science, making everything surprisingly easy to understand.

“Your notes are neatly organized. Your handwriting is… well, decent.”

She flips through my notebook, making small observations.

I wouldn’t call my handwriting round, but according to Mizuki, my writing has a distinct style that makes it easy to recognize.

When I catch a glimpse of the Saint’s notes, I’m struck with despair—her handwriting is elegant and feminine, leagues beyond mine.

Still, since her notes are so clear, I ask to make copies of them.

Pride is secondary. My test scores matter more.

“Aizome, what’s this tiny doodle in the corner of your notes?”

On one page, there’s a small chibi character drawn at the bottom.

Something about it feels familiar.

It’s drawn really well, which only adds to my growing suspicion.

“That’s you, Suzuki. The teacher’s lecture was slow, so I doodled to pass the time.”

…So this is supposed to be me.

No wonder it felt familiar.

And yet, this little drawing of me seems oddly adorable…

“Is this how you see me, Aizome?”

“Pretty much.”

“And this collar and leash…?”

“That’s something I plan to put on you in the future.”

I think she actually intends to turn me into her pet.

That realization is terrifying, but I still take a picture of the drawing because it’s well done.

“Boredom is a sin. That’s why most of school life is a crime. But… I suppose the time I spend here is enjoyable enough to be an exception.”

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

“You should. You’re the only one who manages to keep me entertained.”

I interpret that as “entertained by treating me like a pet or plaything.”

“Why not just be yourself in class, too?”

“No, thanks. There’s no point in opening up to people I’ll only know for a few years.”

“But I’m different?”

“Of course. You’re my future pet.”

“Can we go with friend instead?”

“…Well, if you insist, I suppose I can consider you a friend, too.”

She says that, slightly embarrassed.

Is she… a tsundere?

It suits her, but if she acts like this, all I can do is internally gush about how cute she is.

“I’ve always thought of you as a friend, Aizome.”

“I-I see… Suit yourself.”

She doesn’t seem to dislike the idea.

How adorable.

“Oh, wow. It’s already this late?”

I glance at the clock—it’s already 5:30 PM.

“Do you have plans?”

“The supermarket’s time-limited sale. They have discounted eggs today, and I need to get them.”

“Oh, right. You live alone, don’t you?”

“Yeah, due to some circumstances… Wait, did I ever tell you that?”

“Suirenji mentioned it.”

I wonder what else she knows about me.

Best Friend, We Need to Talk About How You Casually Leaked My Personal Information Despite My Wariness of Your Scheming Nature.

“I heard you’re good at cooking too.”

“I can manage. But I’d say you’re better than me, Aizome.”

I had seen her working efficiently in home economics class, so I made that remark, to which the Saint responded honestly.

“To be honest, I don’t particularly enjoy cooking. I’d rather have someone else do it for me. In home ec, the recipes are simple enough to hold my attention, but if it were something more elaborate, I’d probably give up halfway and go home.”

That bad, huh?

Well, considering her usual demeanor, it actually seemed pretty likely.

“But anyway, let’s put that aside.”

Brushing off the topic, the Saint changed the subject.

“I have practice after this, so we’ll wrap up here for today. But from now on, if you need help, come here whenever you have time.”

“Are you sure?”

“There’s no benefit in letting you end up in remedial classes.”

Apparently, the only entertainment value would be laughing at my failing grades.

She would actually laugh at me…? Well, not like I could argue against that.

“That being said, just a hamburger isn’t enough of a thank-you.”

“So you want fries and a soda too?”

“That’s a given. You’re acting like this wasn’t already included in the deal.”

It turns out that when she said hamburger, she had actually meant a full meal set.

I don’t mind treating her after all this tutoring, but she could stand to appreciate smaller gestures too.

“Alright then… I’ll let you off easy if you make me a homemade bento tomorrow.”

“Huh? My cooking is okay with you?”

“If you’d rather not, I can always book a restaurant that serves foie gras and caviar.”

“I’ll gladly make you a bento!”

As a commoner, I felt an instinctive aversion to those expensive ingredients. I had never even tasted them before, and I preferred to keep my wallet intact.

Only someone like the Saint would be accustomed to such luxuries.

Speaking of which, there was an all-girls academy nearby. I wonder if the students there casually eat caviar and foie gras like it’s a 100-yen sushi plate.

The wealth gap is truly terrifying…

“Do you have any food dislikes?”

“Not particularly.”

“Any allergies?”

“Nope, none.”

That’s a relief.

When cooking for someone else, you have to consider their dietary restrictions.

Food allergies, in particular, aren’t something to be taken lightly.

While food preferences can be overlooked, ignoring allergies could have serious consequences. But since the Saint had none, I just needed to focus on making something she’d enjoy.

“I don’t have a fancy multi-tiered bento box, though. Is that okay?”

“I don’t eat that much, so it’s fine. If necessary, I can get one right now—should I?”

“If a regular bento box is okay, I have a spare at home.”

“That’ll do.”

“Got it. Then tomorrow, I’ll prepare a chef’s special just for you.”

I’m not exactly a master chef, but I’m confident enough.

I’ve been cooking for years, and I’ve made meals for Mizuki plenty of times. She’s honest, so if something tasted bad, she wouldn’t hesitate to tell me. But so far, she’s never complained—if anything, she always asks for seconds.

So my cooking should be fine. The real question is whether it suits the Saint’s refined palate.

“By the way, Suzuki, you bake too, right?”

“I can manage. Wait, you knew about that too?”

“I have my sources.”

My so-called best friend had been freely handing out my personal information.

We really need to have a talk.

“And what would Her Highness like?”

“I’ve heard your cupcakes are delicious.”

“Understood. I’ll bring some tomorrow along with your bento.”

It’s a bit more work, but it’s manageable.

Considering how much I’ll rely on her for studying, this is a small price to pay.

“Well then, let’s call it a day.”

“Yes. I’ll be looking forward to tomorrow.”

With that, the Saint left the clubroom first.

I could have left with her, but for some reason, I stayed behind.

From the window, I saw her usual black luxury car pulling up.

Having a personal chauffeur… what a lavish lifestyle.

I should get going too.

After heading home, I carefully timed my trip to the supermarket to catch the time-limited sale.

Amidst the fierce battlefield of housewives, I managed to snatch up two packs of discounted eggs.

Now for tomorrow’s bento…

Normally, I just eat leftovers, but since I’m making it for someone else, I should put in a little extra effort.

If it were just Mizuki, I’d throw in whatever was left from dinner, but for the Saint, I want to make something more proper.

Not out of vanity—just… something about her feels special.

I wasn’t sure why I felt that way, but it didn’t bother me.

After chatting with a familiar cashier lady at the store, I headed home with my groceries.

The Saint had mentioned having lessons after school. She must be learning all sorts of things.

If I remember correctly, she mentioned calligraphy, piano… and a bunch of other things.

I wouldn’t be surprised if she was learning violin too (total bias).

I had taken swimming lessons in elementary school, but I couldn’t continue past middle school.

Not that I was passionate about it or anything, but as I got older, I started wishing I had a proper skill to boast about.

I guess this is what they call that phenomenon—when adults regret not studying more as kids.

If I’m already feeling this way as a high school student, the future looks grim.

But hey, broadening one’s knowledge is never a bad thing.

Back home, I ate dinner while watching TV.

There was a scene of the protagonist making a homemade bento for their crush, which made me uncomfortably self-aware, so I quickly changed the channel.

No, this isn’t like that.

Sure, the situation might be similar, but I’m not caught up in some romantic fantasy.

I don’t dislike the genre or anything, but this is different.

The Saint probably just sees me as a friend, and that’s all there is to it.

I pushed those thoughts aside and went to bed.

Still, for some reason, I found myself looking forward to tomorrow.

Because of that, I ended up sleeping late.

The next morning, I deeply regretted it.

But, well… that was my own fault.