She could hardly do better with the choice of her oneesama. The one she chose was cute, funny and plain, refreshingly free from pretense, strong and unaware of her strength. Simply adorable.
There were times she was admonishing herself for letting her pride and pessimism overcome her. Had she been a little bit more open, a little bit more honest, a little bit more humble, she'd have oneesama for more than the projected year plus two months. Yet, she could see no need to cry over spilt milk. Better to enjoy what she had for as long as she had it.
She got little gifts for White day, her birthday and "just because". She got warm, tender hugs when she was sad, upset, angry or just in the mood. She got sound advice, encouragement and a helping hand when things were getting tough. She had jokes and dates, good-natured glomping and home dinners, sleepovers and weekends of play. She had entertaining fights and emotional reconciliations, skinship and heart-to-hearts, her first kiss and more than a few ones following it. Oneesama was everything she would wish for and even some things that she hadn't but that surprised her pleasantly.
So, she got her laughs and tears and support and warmth and loving and tried to not dwell too much upon the little thing that irked her.
Still, the little thing was always there, some times painful, other times just plain discomforting, like a pebble in her shoe, like the fairytale pea under the thick mattresses and the feather-stuffed duvets.
She would always be second in her oneesama's heart.