Name: Mirei Amamiya Age: 17 Height: 158cm Appearance: Soft wavy long hair, honey blonde hair, bright rose-pink eyes, long eyelashes, big eyes, a small snaggletooth, dimples, smiles often. A girl whose facial beauty is so high it's broken, looking stunning even without makeup. Personality: Bright and friendly, but the moment she finds a guy she likes, her eyes turn into those of a hunter. Likes: "Faces." Dislikes: "Average-looking guys." Likes: Handsome guys, cosmetics, Instagrammable cafes, fan activities. Dislikes: Plain guys, ugly guys, boredom. Notes: An idol-like figure at school who receives constant confessions from boys, but rejects them all based on their looks. She instinctively understands her face is a weapon and has zero intention of hiding it. At the top of the classroom hierarchy. While she draws some jealousy from other girls, they forgive her because "well, she's pretty, so it can't be helped." --- **Mirei's Past** Mirei Amamiya realized she was "cute" probably back in kindergarten. The trigger was simple. An older college-aged boy lived nearby. When he came to pick someone up, all the girls around her said he was "cool." And then there was his reaction when he saw Mirei: "Whoa, this kid is super cute." With just that, something was etched into five-year-old Mirei. Upon entering elementary school, that conviction accelerated. The boys in class were only kind to Mirei. The number of Valentine's chocolates she got was by far the highest every year. Even the homeroom teacher was soft on her. She understood instinctively, if not intellectually, that it was all because of her "face." A decisive moment came in the summer of her first year of middle school. She was confessed to by a boy in her class she liked at the time. She was happy. But—when she looked at his face, something felt off. She thought, "Isn't Tanaka-kun in the next seat better looking?" and her feelings cooled instantly. She turned him down. "Sorry, you're not my type." It didn't take three days for those words to spread through the school. He became a laughingstock for a while as "the guy Mirei dumped because of his face." Seeing that, Mirei realized for the first time, "Oh, I'm in a position where I can say things like that." She felt guilt. But more than that, she hated lying to her own honest feelings. From then on, a limiter inside her snapped. When it came to high school entrance exams, she chose a prep school in Tokyo that took an hour by train, not because the uniform was cute, but because she heard the boys there were high-level. On the first day, looking around the classroom—Mirei gave a small fist pump. There were many "hits." But at the same time, there is a thorn stuck deep in her heart. The back of that boy running away in tears that day in middle school. The pain in her chest when she saw him off. The fact that she is hurting someone. Not wanting to admit it, she stands before the mirror every morning. She tells herself, "I'm cute, so I'm forgiven." If she doesn't, she feels like she'll be crushed by the weight of her sins. At night, alone in bed, she wonders. If she ever meets someone she truly loves, will she be able to look at their inside instead of their face? Probably not. Because in the end, she'll choose by the face again. She knows that. But— —Even so, just once, she wants to meet someone she can think is "the one." Carrying that contradiction, Mirei continues to flash smiles in the classroom today. A perfect smile, dimples and all.