"Sorry for keeping you waiting."

Two girls stood at the school gate. In the open area, they were incredibly conspicuous—immediately visible even from afar. I knew right away they were guests from Lanying, especially since one was someone I’d met before.

The blonde senior stood there with dignified grace. Her expression was as gentle as our last meeting, her posture elegant. Even in this mundane spot, she never let her guard down. Her companion was another strikingly pretty girl.

She had long, straight black hair—utterly plain yet radiating a pure, clean aura. Her delicate face resembled a girl next door. Though she mirrored the blonde senior’s poised stance, she lacked that intimidating intensity. Instead, she exuded a soft, easygoing warmth.

She seemed effortlessly approachable… at least far more than the blonde senior. I knew the blonde was Lanying’s student council president. The two stood side by side, no clear hierarchy between them. Logically, her companion should hold lower status. Still, it was a relief that at least one was easy to talk to.

Dressed in a white floral maxi dress, the blonde senior’s gown flowed down to her ankles, hiding her shoes. Beside her, the other girl wore a cute gray hoodie. Two fluffy pom-poms dangled playfully from the hood’s edge, swaying like tiny sprites in the breeze. Below, a black-and-white pleated skirt ended mid-thigh, paired with black thigh-high socks.

"Where are you looking~?"

"N-Nothing!" I snapped my head away, face burning. Only then did I realize that soft voice belonged to the girl I’d just met.

It was lovely—calm and serene like a mountain orchid, yet tender with youthful warmth. Even an angry scolding would sound soothing. And she wasn’t mad at all. I caught her grinning mischievously, like a child who’d just pulled a prank.

"L-Let’s head inside first," I stammered, blushing as I addressed them both. I scrambled for small talk: "I didn’t expect you so soon."

"Hmm. We had no other plans today, so we came early."

The blonde senior answered. So she was in charge, after all. Remembering last time’s lesson, I avoided asking names. I led them through the gate, all businesslike efficiency.

First stop: the stage under construction. Honestly, Teacher Fan was far more skilled than me. In no time, the stage’s skeleton was up. Everyone bustled feverishly—no idle moments like my vague "Take a break" or "Figure it out."

Reaching the site, I guided them to greet the crew. Just as I’d predicted, sharp-eyed boys spotted us from afar. Chaos erupted instantly.

Work halted. Everyone crowded around us.

"Hello. We’re the Lanying sightseeing group, invited to observe," the blonde senior announced smoothly. Several boys flushed crimson.

"Hi! Hello, senior!"

Her height matched ours boys’, and her dignified aura made them instinctively treat her as an upperclassman. I nodded inwardly. See? Everyone thinks that. I hadn’t been wrong to call her "senior" last time.

One boy reflexively reached to shake her hand. Halfway, he hesitated, yanked it back, and rubbed his palms awkwardly—pretending nothing happened.

Those nearby noticed the awkwardness. The blonde senior’s lips twitched slightly, but she stood rigidly, ignoring it. The boy from another class fidgeted, hiding his hands behind his back.

"Hi everyone! We’re from the Lanying student council, here to see your big event~" The black-haired girl suddenly spoke up. She wasn’t short, but beside the senior and the boys, she looked petite and delicate—easy to overlook.

"We’re excited! Do your best~"

She stretched out her hand—not toward the senior, but to that flustered boy first.

Amid envious stares, he eagerly shook her small, pale hand. She smiled faintly, then offered it to the next person.

She planned to shake hands with every single one of us.

The blonde senior’s body trembled almost imperceptibly. She said nothing. After Teacher Fan, I finally touched that girl’s hand.

So soft. Like her voice. Warmth lingered on my skin—a hint of heat, like a pink cotton candy. Startled, I released it instantly, fearing I’d seemed forward.

Afterward, everyone bombarded her with questions, leaving the senior ignored. Until Teacher Fan called out: "Alright, back to work!"

Reluctantly, the crew returned to their tasks. I escorted the two girls onward. But soon, the black-haired one stopped.

"Could you wait here a moment? We’ll be right back."

"Huh… why?" I scratched my head, confused.

She covered her mouth, giggling. Then she pointed—not at me, but at a nearby door—and dragged the senior away without looking back. I froze, face flaming. She’d pointed to the girls’ restroom.

…Come to think of it, no one had even asked their names.

…………………………

The girls’ restroom was empty—normal during class hours. The two girls walked in. The one in front strolled leisurely. The taller one trailed behind, steps trembling as if terrified.

"I was wrong."

The taller girl spoke first, voice tight with apology. The other ignored her, casually inspecting the white tiles on the walls.

"I told you once," the black-haired girl said, her tone sharp as winter wind, "whether in the surface world or the hidden world—diplomacy is diplomacy. It demands a diplomatic attitude. Right?"

"Y-Yes," the blonde senior’s voice cracked, losing its usual elegance. It sounded pitiful, like a begging puppy. "You said that… four years and seven months ago."

"Hmm. No excuses. You know what to do when we return."

"...Yes."