Sunglasses and Flower Petals
Sunglasses, flower petal fortune-telling, a pleasant commute to school, a happy classroom, pretty and cute girls everywhere. Just yesterday, my world had been sparkling in shades of pink. Now it's dotted with black and gray, brooding in gloomy silence. Like a city that once dazzled in prosperity, now fallen into ruin—my classroom has lost its color and vitality, quiet in an almost eerie way. Like a sketched canvas untouched by paint. Or as if it was designed that way from the start. Less like reality, more like the backdrop of a black-and-white photo. Even the once-lovely cherry trees have shed their dark petals, exposing their bare skeletons.
I lift my heavy, fatigue-swollen eyelids and think: It's all because of what I heard yesterday. I never imagined it'd make me see reality like this.
"Lily. You're early."
"Oh. Alicia."
"You okay today?"
"Eh... not really?"
I'm sitting quietly in the back corner, trying to kill time, when Alicia approaches and shows interest in me. I answer as flatly as possible. Even her radiant golden hair and sharp blue eyes aren't exempt—they look pitch black to me now. All I can make out is their shape and outline. Kekeke, my right arm's black flame dragon is roaring in frustration...
"By the way, Lily."
"Yeah?"
"...What's that?"
"What do you mean?"
"No, it's just... weird."
"What's weird?"
"The sunglasses. Why are you wearing them?"
Oh, come on. They're way too effective. How precious is the face of a yuri beauty flustered by some weirdo's antics...! Who designed sunglasses like this? Too on-the-nose.
Why did I show up to school in sunglasses? Like I just said, yesterday's revelation about reality made me do it.
...I had no clue how girls really felt...!
Of course a creepy TS girl lurking in the shadows, leering at them with a sleazy grin and drooling would freak them out. I knew that, but I ignored it on purpose. All for my yuri obsession! Damn it, you trash, I'm irredeemable garbage. Not even worthy of being called a yuri enthusiast. Waaaaaah...!
Dana's words made me think hard, and yeah, girls had every reason to find me gross. So last night, while getting "punished" by Dana, I came up with this: wear sunglasses to hide my wandering eyes. Someone might call it dumb, but it's got a long, proud history. No one catches my gaze, so I can ogle girls creepily to my heart's content. If they ask, "Why are you staring?" I can play dumb: "Huh? Me?" Guys don't wear sunglasses at the beach for nothing. And if I spot cute girls flirting? Whoeee, go for it! Whistle once. If I can play wingman—"Hey miss, got time?"—even better...!
Am I a genius? Just these shades let girls bloom into yuri without worrying about my eyes. Yuri multiplies. Overflowing yuri spreads for free—a virtuous cycle. I'm invincible. Sunglasses are god...!
"Why are you wearing them... ah?"
"Huh?"
"Lily. Don't tell me..."
Deep in my lily-genius theory, I catch Alicia blinking rapidly. She looks suddenly extremely anxious, like she's realized something. Maybe both. Her hands start trembling visibly—enough to make anyone pity her.
"No, it's just... I thought the other girls might feel uncomfortable..."
"Did she hit you?"
"What?"
"Your face!"
What the hell is she imagining? Who'd punch my face? She's so shocked, her usual composure is gone. I'm stunned by the absurdity when she suddenly whips her head around, searching for something. I have a feeling I know what—and say it.
"Dana won't be here for a bit. She stayed up late scolding me yesterday."
"Scolding? It was her, right? Dana hit you?"
If she punched me, I'd say so? But calling it a full-power gut-punch traded for sexual harassment would be weird too.
"Why are you here alone, anyway?"
"This morning, I woke up and teased her about her flat chest making her stomach tiny... er, she got mad and kicked me out."
"Lily...!"
Ah. Only then do I grasp the situation. She's looking at me like a pitiful classmate with swollen eyes from a beating, hiding behind sunglasses to avoid stares—eyes full of pity, worry, and anger. Missing that makes me the idiot.
...Yeah, I said some prime misunderstanding bait.
To Alicia, I'm a tragic victim gaslit by a friend-turned-abuser, clueless about what's wrong. No thanks to that misunderstanding. Her imagination's wild. I have zero plans to paint the mildly violent Dana as some monstrous bitch, so I fling off my precious sunglasses, revealing my fine face.
"It's not like that. Idiot."
"Huh?"
"Sigh."
Anyway. Why is she so pretty? Maybe because I saw her in monochrome first, now full color hits hard. That tiny white face, blue eyes, honey-blonde hair—I can't look away. Top yuri prospect, as expected. Her face alone makes me happy. Nah, lie. Show me that pussy rubbing. Earn your keep. Let Dana take you, use you as a doormat till the castle's full, please...!
"Ehehehe..."
"What. Are you. Again..."
"Huh?"
"No. Must've been my imagination."
"Yeah."
Conversation seems over, but Alicia suddenly remembers: "Then why the sunglasses...?"
"Oh. Other girls might feel uncomfortable."
"Who? Why? And people don't usually go that far with sunglasses."
True. Too logical—no good excuse. Can't confess I'm hiding my peeping at lewd girl-on-girl classroom antics. I'm stumped. She won't let it slide, so I bullshit vaguely.
"...I cried a bit...?"
"Cried? Yeah, your eyes are puffy."
Wah, lily got punched by Dana, sobbed in agony. Even without saying it, she guesses why. Her face sours by the second. Misunderstandings are great. For yuri only. Watching girls bumble through them is hilarious. But not if I'm involved. Firmly:
"Don't misunderstand. I liked it."
"Liked...?"
Alicia's face hardens. I meant the process of belittling Dana's flat chest till she snapped in shame. Not enough to cry, though—that was from the gut-punch pain afterward... How to explain? Let it slide.
"..."
Ah, fuck. Getting annoying. Just let her misunderstand? Masochist label's no big deal. If it scares pervs away, it's a win. Especially with Alicia—hotel history means it's not bad. Impulse takes over:
"...Yeah. I liked it. Like I said before? Getting hit feels good. I like pain... ngh, heh heh, begged for more like a spoiled brat... Hey, you listening?"
Alicia's face hardens more. Perfect. Plan working.
* * *
After school that day, I run into Alicia again. Pure coincidence. Heading to the dorm, I spot her behind the school building, doing flower petal fortune-telling.
"Torments. Loves. Torments. Loves. Torments. Loves..."
Each petal she plucks comes with creepy mutterings. She'd look less tormented ripping off a person's head.
"...Loves."
That's the result. With the last petal, she sighs it out. Then she notices me watching. She stands from the grass—skirt dirtied, ignored—and looks my way.
"Lily. How long have you been there?"
"Just now...? What're you doing?"
No answer. She thinks hard, then suddenly tells me to pluck a flower. Weird, but I obey. Feels like I shouldn't refuse. Planned to bail, but busted now. I bring a white one—no lilies, just nearby.
"Daisy."
"Daisy?"
"Sit. For petal fortune-telling."
Assumes no refusal. Classic Alicia. Earlier sunglasses panic was so uncharacteristic. I sit at a distance; she ignores me, focuses on the flower.
"You pick."
"Pick what?"
"One: Loves."
"What?"
"Two: Torments."
"I mean what..."
"Which first?"
It's petal-talk. Torments or loves. No clue. Superstition for real worries?
"Then, one...?"
Loves beats torments, right?
"Yeah?"
She pauses at my answer, then smirks meaningfully. Mocking my simple mind? She starts plucking:
"Lily. Know this?"
"Huh?"
"Daisies have 34 petals."
Even chatting, she mutters "Torments. Loves." to herself.
...Chilling vibe.
"...You memorize that?"
"Yeah. Most flowers around here."
"I-Impressive."
"Not really. Petal counts follow the Fibonacci sequence. Easy."
Thrilling info, bravo. Top of the class knows weird shit.
"So petal fortune's pointless for me. I know the result before finishing."
"Then why?"
"Steadies my mind. Habit when悩悩."
"R-Really?"
Odd habit. Chilling atmosphere though. First yuri beauty doing petals for me? My eyes dart; she laughs softly again.
"Sometimes I think: Wasting time."
"Hooeeek..."
Her eyes scare me. Something's happening...
"Then I ask the one troubling me: 'Which first?'"
"Yeah...?"
"And act on the answer."
Meaning I'm her worry. What? What situation? Eyes scary, stay back...
"I wanted to love you."
She sighs genuinely regretful, tosses the half-left flower without finishing. Declares:
"Take good care of me, Lily."
...Eh?