I see you, anon, and I like what you’re thinking. ໒( ͡ᵔ ▾ ͡ᵔ )७
Shikako tries to return to her seat without catching anyone’s notice–restless feet is no excuse for further international faux pas–but considering she’s sitting right next to Ino, there’s no escaping it.
Especially not when she stumbles right into her, eyes still dazed from the multitude of camera flashes. Shikako’s just a minor peer–those picture probably won’t end up in the news, right?
Ino lends her a steadying hand, one eyebrow raised in appraisement, “What were you doing?” she murmurs beneath her breath.
Shikako flushes, embarrassed again at the memory, “I just ran into someone,” she says. And looked like a total idiot, she doesn’t add.
Ino holds a stare for a beat, Shikako’s cheeks turning further red, before letting the matter drop.
She’ll find out soon enough, anyway.
“The prince!” Ino shouts, bursting through Shikako’s bedroom door without any hesitation. Cruelly, she walks over to the window and flings open the curtains. “You ran into the prince?”
Shikako groans, curling into her pillows and away from the light.
There’s an indignant flapping of paper, before Ino heaves a sigh and pounces.
She’s not heavy, but with a high enough trajectory and the element of surprise, Shikako’s breath leaves her in a rush, “No…”
“You didn’t tell me you ran into Wind Country’s prince. Spill now or else,” Ino threatens, yanking a pillow from beneath Shikako’s head and brandishing it like a weapon.
What torments could she possibly inflict that is crueler than waking someone up?
Well… it is Ino.
“Wind Country has two princes,” she says instead, just to be contrary.
Ino smacks her with the pillow. “You know who I’m talking about! The dreamboat with the gorgeous eyes and perfect cheekbones,” another smack, “Just what happened?”
“Nothing happened… I just bumped into him, said sorry, and then returned to my seat?” Confused, Shikako finally cracks open her eyes.
In Ino’s hand is a newspaper, the front page dominated by a color photo of Shikako and the younger Wind Country prince, his arm around her waist, her hand on his shoulder: they had literally bumped into each other and just barely managed not to fall to the ground in a flail of limbs. That’s all.
Ino looks less gleeful, now; she hands over the paper, “Not according to this.”
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