黄色い悲鳴の中心に、堂々と座る彼女。
面倒くさそうにも、満足そうにも見える
どこかシニカルな笑み。

近づくのは、ためらわれる。
けれど、嫌でも視界に入ってくる……。

彼女みたいなウマ娘を意識せずに
いられる人なんて……いるだろうか？

人だかりが動いて彼女が見えなくなる。
つい首を伸ばしたら、目が合った――

「なんだよ？　物欲しそうな顔しやがって。
アンタも可愛がられたいのか？」

She sits confidently, surrounded by her squealing fangirls. It's hard to say whether the cynical smirk on her lips masks ire at the fuss—or a smug satisfaction.

There's something about her that stops you from trying to get closer, but you can't look away.

Is there no one here who can withstand the charismatic draw she has? All who pass are stopped dead in their tracks, gawking.

The growing crowd jostles and blocks my view. I go up on tip-toe, craning my neck for a glimpse, and then...

"What's this? You're looking awfully desperate. Did you hope I'd flash you a smile too?"