Did she always work this hard? Minako asked herself, but decided not to make it audible. She then remembered that deep down, she had always wished she was like Mitsuru, in the way that she worked harder and was much smarter than anyone else she knew.
When Minako stepped inside the lavish home, her mouth went slightly agape. It fit Mitsuru to a T, in Minako’s opinion, with all of it’s shininess and glory. “This is amazing!” she exclaimed, examining the area around her.
All she could think of was how Mitsuru could bare to live at the dorms while she had such a place like this at her disposal.
“It’s very beautiful,” she told the older woman, smiling as she did so.
Mitsuru waved off the compliments, slightly embarrassed. It’s not like she designed it or anything — an interior decorator did all the work, and thus should get all the credit.
She ushered Minako into one of the more comfortable living rooms, and settled onto a plush couch. “Do you want something to eat or drink? I’m sure my chef could fix us something.”