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To her, every morning was a fast paced, choreographed routine and she was the seasoned dancer who knew every step and turn. The sun shone through her meticulously angled blinds, so that the early rays of a sleepy sun just barely shone through, waking her within two shrill rings of her alarm. She shot up out of bed. Any lingering would just constrain her morning routine timing, knowing she would be successfully tempted by the soft, alluring folds of her blanket. She gave a good long stretch, arms reaching for her high ceiling.

To her, every morning was an assembly line of carefully curated tasks and she was the well-oiled machine that could perform it flawlessly. She swung her legs off the side of the bed and promptly banged her ankle on the leg of her nightstand.

"Oh f—"

Choice words immediately filled her head, but she bit her tongue. She thought to herself that someone like her shouldn't say such words. Maybe she wasn't as well-oiled as she thought. She lay on the floor and cradled her poor bruised ankle.

I really hope that doesn't leave a mark.

This was a kink in her supposedly choreographed routine. She glanced over at her phone. A kink, but still merely a speed bump. She continued.

Go to the bathroom. Ten step skincare routine. Cleanser. Toner. Serum. Moisturizer. Sunscreen. She never forgot sunscreen even in the chilling dreary months of Akita's deep winters.

After skincare, makeup. So called no-makeup makeup was much more difficult to her than a regular makeup routine. No-makeup makeup meant that she had to look like she only spent five minutes "enhancing her natural beauty." The cruel reality is that she needed to cake her face in makeup, yet still needed to make it look like only a light dusting of pixie dust on her face. Wispy curled lashes. Barely blushing cheeks. A flash of slight shimmer from her eyelids. All methodically curated to make her appear cuter. Curse these Japanese beauty standards.

After makeup, breakfast. A hefty helping of ripened avocado spread on perfectly toasted wheat bread. Or maybe slightly-below-average toasted bread because she had spent too long fixing her hair and now half her toast was like the dark side of the moon, inedible.

After breakfast, uniform. White button down. Red tie. Grey skirt, slightly rolled for fashion purposes. Black blazer. Socks stretched above her knee.

One last look in a mirror to make sure nothing was in her teeth. A black pepper flake between her two front teeth? How about nice try, but not today. She quickly flicked it away. Grabbing her fluffiest scarf, she was on her way to high school, Yosen.

Her trek to school was not a long one, but by now she knew the best route to the school gates to come in contact with the least people. Interacting with people was a part of her job so to speak, but not really one she enjoyed. Before she had to face the floods of students in the morning, she took a little time to appreciate the start of autumn. Japan had the most beautiful trees. With the maple leaves turning redder with each day, slowly falling into the cement waterway below, she watched as the curled edges of the foliage caught the wind like sails in a tiny ship and raced downstream. A deep breath and exhale, to see her own breath materialize in the chilling air. A tilt up to see the slow rising sun, light streaming through the star shaped leaves leaving cookie cutter like shadows on the asphalt. Japanese wasn't her first language, but she had always loved the very specific words that the language had coined for very specific moments like these: komorebi.

Then the noise. Not the slight sound of water running in the gutter below, but the starting chatter of students congregating. She straightened her posture a little and sucked in her stomach. She forced the sides of her lips up, but not too up, just slightly. And she took in the conversation.

"Ah! That's her isn't it!" An attempt at a hushed voice, but loud enough for her to hear.

"Shinya Estelle-san right? I've seen her around."

"I hear her unit is doing well lately! Good for her!"

"I wish I could be a natural beauty like her. Or at the very least my hair, I want it as sleek as hers!"

Estelle fought the impulse to flatten her lips. Little did they know she spent a good amount of time straightening her hair too.

"Let's go talk to her! I hear she's super nice," a girl whispered to her friend.

Please don't. Estelle's lips twitched to maintain her slight smile. But luckily or unluckily, neither of the two girls heard her thoughts and rushed over.

"Good morning, Shinya-san!"

Estelle took a deep breath and endeavored to make it inaudible, "Mornin'!"

"My name's xxx! I'm in the class next door to you!"

"Well, nice meeting you! I'm Shinya Estelle."

"Oh we know who you are! Everyone does! I'm zzz, by the way."

"I believe I met you in the bathroom the other day right?" Estelle ransacked her poor morning brain to remember.

The girl's eyes widened in glee, "Wow, yeah! You remember?"
Estelle mentally fist pumped, "Of course! You complimented my hair, it made my day!"

"I didn't think you'd remember that! You probably talk to a bunch of people every day anyways."

Estelle smiled, "I have a pretty poor memory, but nice things that people do I remember pretty well!"

A half-truth. Estelle had a good memory regarding events and faces, but not so much about names. She had a hard time remembering Japanese names and an even harder time remembering to use their surnames. There were half a million Satou's and thousands of Suzuki's in her school, let alone all the business people she met through her entertainment company. Abiding by Japanese culture norms and memorizing jumbles of tiny kanji were not her strong suit nor her priority.

The girls continued chatting with her. The conversation was pleasant, but not anything that Estelle hadn't talked about before. Fortunately, many of the girls at her high school were nice and came to talk to her often. Though most of the questions were about if she had met other famous actors, singers, or idol groups. While she had been on TV a few times and her group was up and coming, by nationwide standards, she was still a no name. Only in her local prefecture of Akita would she somewhat turn heads. In a big city like Tokyo, probably no one would spare her a glance.

Estelle parted ways with the two nice girls at the doorway of her classroom and sat down. She knew physics was her first class and she by no means was good at it. Fumbling through what they had went over in class last week, she closed her eyes and furrowed her brow to comb through the concepts mentally.

Then it happened. In the few seconds she had closed her eyes, she had stepped on something and slipped. She felt pain shoot up from her poor bruised ankle that she had slammed into her nightstand a few hours ago. She tried to shift the weight onto her other leg to reduce the pain sustained to her already hurt ankle and instead shifted her weight forward.

She was falling forward. Looking for anything to break her fall, she saw a flash of purple in front of her. Maybe a kind student to break her fall? Whatever it was, her fall was successfully broken. She looked up. Kind grey eyes stared back at her.

Estelle couldn't help but immediately think about how unfair life was because the face staring back at her was impeccable. Masculine yet slender face. Striking eyes and a cute mole beneath his right eye. Soft, but genuine concern. She had spent over half an hour putting on makeup and yet somehow this guy seemed prettier than her. Tatsuya Himuro was the real natural beauty, not her. She remembered his name because, well, everyone knew him. He was an absolute specimen of a man, on student council, and a star on the basketball team to boot. Estelle would have to have been resolutely oblivious to all her surroundings to not hear whispers and lovestruck giggles about him. It also helped that he was in her class.

"Are you all right?" He asked, surprisingly in English.

Caught by surprise, she steadied herself on his arm and responded in the same language, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to fall on you, but thank you for breaking my fall."

He helped her stand upright and Estelle began to process what has happened. Beneath her feet were what seemed to be little colorful pellets.

Then what was that flash of purple I saw?