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“Ms. Sense, may I pat your head?”
“No.”
“But—”
“No. I am your senior. I need to maintain the status quo.”
Methode sighed, resigned to her current fate. As she sulked on the other side of the couch next to Sense, Sense reflected upon the reason as to why they were in this situation.
“Get to know each other,” Lady Serie had said.
“You always wanted cooperation among the First-Class Mages, did you not? Well, now is your chance.”
But Methode’s way of “getting to know each other” was not among the usual methods that Sense was aware of. It was not, “Ms. Sense, what do you like?” or “Ms. Sense, are there any men that catch your eye?”—the usual girly talk that one might expect from ladies. No, it was “Ms. Sense, may I pat your head?”
Sense glanced over at the blonde mage again, taking note of how the sun shone onto Methode’s hair and made it look like she was watching the sunset.
“… Is your hair as soft as it looks?” The words slipped out of Sense’s mouth before she could comprehend what she was saying.
Methode brushed a hand over her hair. “Umm, I don’t know. Would you like to touch it?”
A pause. Then, slowly, Sense scooted over until there was only about a foot of space between them. She reached out, combing through the golden strands.
“It really is soft… almost like silk,” Sense said. “Is it hard to take care of?”
Methode tapped her cheek in thought. “Hmm, maybe? Sometimes it’s a pain to wash.”
Sense nodded, wholeheartedly agreeing with her words. “Do you do anything special? It’s really soft.”
“Well, not really. I don’t know much about this stuff.”
“Hmm…”
Then, “Do you know how to braid hair?”
=====
“I’m awfully clumsy with these hands, so I never did my hair without magic.” Sense glanced at the small braid that she had made from Methode’s hair. There were strands poking out everywhere—it looked like she had tried to make a braid from straw instead. “But you, amazingly, are able to learn so quickly with just a few instructions.”
“It just means that you’re a good teacher,” Methode murmured. She was already doing a third braid, next to the other two small ones that she had deftly made.
Silence fell. Sense glanced once more at the braid she made. It really did look pitiful compared to the ones Methode made.
“… This is really fun.”
Sense looked up from the braid.
“Where I came from, there wasn’t really any time for stuff like braiding hair. So…” Methode briefly turned her gaze to meet Sense’s. The corners of her lips were curled upward. “I really appreciate that I was able to experience something like this, Ms. Sense.”
Smiling an equally small smile, Sense thought to herself, This is nice after all.
The doors opened. Beyond them stood the expressionless Genau and bespectacled Falsch.
Falsch assessed the scene before him, adjusting his glasses. “What’s this?”
“We’re braiding each other’s hair,” Sense replied, lifting the singular, messy braid from Methode’s hair to show the men.
“That’s all? To think I was worried that something had happened when Methode didn’t show up as usual...” Genau muttered.
Methode straightened with a start. “Ah! Lady Serie! I need to go pat her!” Rushing past the two men, she ran towards the great hall.
Sense glared at Genau. “You said too much.” Whether she was angry that he had interrupted their girl time, or landed Lady Serie into an unwanted situation, was a secret that she was going to bring to her grave.
“...” Genau turned and left, following Methode.
Sense glanced at the third braid in her hair. Just like the others, it too was tied into a bow with a small, white ribbon.
“Ms. Sense, may I pat your head?”
Sense let a small smile form, murmuring, “You can’t pat my head, but I suppose I don’t mind letting you touch my hair.” Picking up a hairbrush, she gestured to Falsch. “Come here. I’m going to braid your hair.”
“Huh?”