Estelle walked home, feeling like she had a secret to hide. Not really, but that didn't stop her from feeling that way. Someone had literally taken the shirt off his own back to give to her and that was a first. Maybe she could use that story in an interview or a variety show for some more screen time. She had stuffed the titan's shirt in her bag and fully intended on washing it and getting all traces of makeup off.

She entered her code into her keypad and her door happily chirruped to let her in. Estelle lived alone and she deeply appreciate the alone time she could get. Between forcing smiles and small talk on the street and school, there was hardly any time for an introvert recovery period.

First things first, remove full face of makeup. Removing makeup was a cathartic experience for her. It was like washing off all the dirt, grime, and memories off her face.

Estelle exhaled deeply and took a good look at herself in the mirror. Promotions for her newest album were coming to an end, so she could take it easy on the makeup this month. She dragged a finger across her clean skin. It was a good skin week so far, no pimples or acne had surfaced. Maybe taking it easy on the foundation would help her keep her skin clear. It was definitely not because her face of makeup had come off from slamming into someone's shirt. Of course not. It was just a small factor.

I have to get the stains out before they set. She went to go dig the shirt out of her bag. The shirt was absolutely huge. Murasaki was a big guy, so a big shirt was to be expected, but it exceeded her expectations; it looked like maybe it could be a bed sheet. She studied the makeup stain.

Nothing too terrible. She brought it closer to her face. Looks washable. She breathed in slightly. Why does my makeup smell that strongly?

It smelled nice. But she didn't recall her makeup smelling like that. She whiffed the stain. It was there, but it didn't seem to be the makeup.

Was it…?

She paused. Estelle was in the privacy of her own apartment, but something felt a little wrong. She couldn't help but feel like a pervert.

It doesn't matter! This is my apartment!

She sniffed the tag of the shirt. Maybe a little too deeply.

She threw the shirt across the room. It smelled good. Maybe a little too good.

I must be going insane. She promptly stood up and paced the room. She got on the floor to do push ups. She did some jumping jacks.

I'm obviously hormonal. Or starved for attention. I've been focusing on practice too much and let myself run wild. I need to exercise more.

It startled her. And she felt a little gross herself. She grabbed the shirt from off the floor and threw it in the washer.

I'll give it back to him tomorrow and that'll be the end of that.

Estelle walked to the first year's floor. She was sure the purple titan wouldn't be hard to spot. Someone that tall would stick out like a purple thumb.

She slid the door open, "Sorry, I'm looking for someone."

Heads turned to look at her. But no purple titan.

A couple of boys came over, "Who're you looking for?"

"A Murasaki-san," Estelle responded.

"Ahh, him. He got dragged by the basketball coach outta here," one of the boys laughed.

"Oh then, do you know where I can find him? I needed to return something to him."

"Probably at the gym. They have basketball practice, I think."

"Ok! Thanks so much!" Estelle flashed a smile and went on her way.

Her hearing was more sensitive than most so she could eavesdrop with ease.

"She's kinda cute don't cha think?" One boy nudged the other.

"She's off to find Murasakibara though? You think something's up?" The other scratched his head and lifted an eyebrow.

"Shinya and Murasakibara? Nah man."

"Despite him being good at basketball, not a lot of…"

Estelle had walked too far to hear the end of it. Well, it was good for her that no one would start any rumors about anything. Because it was going to be nothing anyways.

She found her way to the gym and pushed open the double doors.

Thwack!

She winced at the sound but saw where it was coming from.

A women in a black skirt suit had whacked her shinai against the risers. The sound of bamboo against plastic was thoroughly grating.

"How many times do I have to tell you, you can't skip practice."

Her voice was assertive and carried, but not loud. She had an intensity that made Estelle shrink back against the double doors. Maybe this was not the right time. Murasaki was double the size of the sword-wielding woman; Estelle could clearly see him from behind the woman. But even he seemed to shrink a bit in her presence.

"Next time I catch you, this shinai's meeting your cranium."

I really don't want to meet that shinai anytime soon.

Estelle leaned her back against the door and pushed it to open, but the door made a rather loud click noise against the lull of the woman's tirade.

The woman turned to look at Estelle, "Can I help you?"

Estelle was caught, but she stood her ground, "Hi, maybe I came at a bad time, but I had something to return to Murasaki-san."

The woman glared at the purple titan, "Go ahead," and went elsewhere in the gym.

Estelle walked up to the giant, "Sorry, about the other day. Here it is as promised."

She had folded the shirt neatly and the makeup stains were all gone. Crisp and white.

"Hm," he responded and took the shirt.

Another player bounded up to Murasaki, "Why's she got your shirt." He was tall too. Now that Estelle swept her eyes across the court. They were all tall! Incredibly so! The player that had joined their company was tall, not as tall as the purple titan. But tall enough to very comfortably look down at Estelle. He was a hairy fellow with thick eyebrows and sideburns, but a rather cute goofiness to his demeanor. He did a double take at Estelle.

"Hey uh, isn't that—" He attempted to discreetly point his finger from behind his other hand, but it still was in clear view of Estelle.

"Hiya, nice to meet you. I'm Shinya Estelle," she held out her hand for a handshake.

"Oh, I'm uh, it's an honor. I'm Okamura Kenichi," he stuck out his hand for a shake.

His forearms and hands were as hairy as expected. Estelle hadn't met so many tall people before and the sheer span of his palm was ridiculous. She had learned how to shake fans' hands before. She needed to be ladylike, have a soft, almost flimsy grip to be feminine. Though she had an inkling that she needed a firmer grip with Okamura. She transitioned into her American business handshake. Leaving space between the palms to avoid getting crushed. Or at least that was her strategy. Her long fingers could barely close around his palm. She gave a firm shake as well as she could.

"Wow your hands are very big huh," Estelle couldn't help but comment. She was holding his hand and had unfurled his fingers to their full span. Okamura blushed furiously. Estelle maintained her cheery smile but her inward smile could be characterized rather differently. She liked guys like Okamura. Simple. Easy to read. No surprises. A devious grin emanated through her insides.

"You know what they say about big hands, right?" Estelle flashed her most innocent smile, slowly letting go of Okamura's hand. His face shone red like someone with serious Asian glow and when she let go of his hand, it was warm too. Maybe from playing basketball. Or maybe from something else.

"What do they say about big hands?"

Estelle turned to look at Murasaki, shirt under his arm and head tilted to the side. A genuine curiosity tinted his eyes. She wanted to laugh but suppressed the urge deep down.

"You know," she responded nonchalantly, "Great control of the basketball."

"Oh, I see," Murasaki responded.

Estelle couldn't tell if he was serious or not.

"Shinya-san was it?" The woman with the shinai was back. Significantly less angry than before.

"Yes that's right," Estelle responded.

"I'm Coach Araki. Are you here for the manager position?"

"The what?"

"Manager position. We put up a notice on the bulletin board. I thought maybe you were here for that." She rested her shinai on her shoulder casually.

Out of the corner of her eye, Estelle noticed the match had ended and Himuro slowly made his way over to the group.

"Oh no, I just wanted to return something to Murasaki-san," Estelle replied.

"That shirt is it?" Okamura seemed to have recovered from his previous ordeal, "What happened to it?"

"Lipstick stain," Murasaki said curtly.