“Can I do your hair, Tsumiki-chan?”
Mikan Tsumiki squeaked, heartbeat accelerating at how close Ryouko leaned into her. “Wh-What?”
Mikan wasn't used to this. Mikan wasn't used to her. Her eyes curved into crescents, smiling and sparkling and delighted all at once. Like somehow, she found Mikan Tsumiki, with her ugly hair and watery eyes and squeaking, stuttering voice cute.
“I want to put your hair in ponytails!” She explained. “Because—because…”
She frowned, having already forgotten. Such forgetfulness was truly unusual—that was for sure. But that forgetfulness is what made Ryouko Otonashi depend on her. What made this girl, bright and quick fire, soften her eyes at Mikan's wavering stare and submit to her. It was amazing, wasn't it? The power Mikan held in the palm of her hands. Of course, she would never abuse it. Of course. Of course.
She flipped through the pages of her notebook, still frowning, before a triumphant smile wound up her face. “Because Matsuda-kun doesn't like me wearing pigtails, but I think they're just sooo cute, so please, please, please let me dress you up!”
Mikan smiled, soft and gentle on her face, and decided to submit to her too.
“Of course, Ryouko-chan.”