"This plushie is adorable~"
Mio held up the shark toy, scrunched her face into what she clearly intended as a ferocious expression, and aimed it at Yumiko.
It was the least threatening thing Yumiko had ever witnessed.
She reached out without thinking and gave Mio a few gentle pats on the head—the way you'd soothe an overexcited child—and said: "Cute. Buy it."
"You're the best, Yumiko~"
Mio beamed and carried the shark to the register. She wasn't about to let Yumiko pay for her things—today was practice, after all. She could handle her own souvenir.
They left the aquarium with the shark tucked under Mio's arm, blinking into the winter noon.
Lunchtime.
Before Mio could even suggest anything, Yumiko had already made a decision and started walking. Fair enough. Mio followed.
The surprise came when Yumiko stopped in front of a Chinese restaurant—a proper one, by the look of it.
Mio raised an eyebrow.
"I did my research this time." Yumiko crossed her arms with the quiet confidence of someone who had absolutely done their research. "I'm not the same as last time."
She wasn't wrong. Through their many shared lunches and offhand conversations, Yumiko had pieced together that Mio preferred Chinese food. She'd taken note. She'd gone out of her way.
If she were on my conquest list right now, Mio thought, the system would definitely be pinging me about now.
"As expected of Yumiko~"
Over lunch, Mio rested her chin on her hand and asked: "You've already planned out the whole afternoon, haven't you?"
"...Not entirely." A rare flicker of uncertainty crossed Yumiko's face. "I wanted to ask your opinion first."
"I'm happy with anything as long as I'm with Yumiko~"
"I knew you'd say that." Yumiko glanced at her phone, then rattled off: "Karaoke, shopping, or a movie."
"Movie."
Zero hesitation.
Karaoke sounded fun in theory, but with just the two of them trading off, it would get tiring fast. And after a morning of walking around the aquarium, the last thing Mio's legs wanted was more walking. Sitting in a dark theater watching something? Ideal.
"There's really only one film with decent reviews right now," Yumiko said, scrolling. "A horror movie. You up for it?"
A horror movie.
Mio's thoughts snagged on that.
She thought about the punishment card sitting in her deck. [Coward]—unupgraded, activated more out of curiosity than anything else. She'd been wondering what it actually did in practice. Exactly what kind of effect it was going to have.
Well. I'm about to find out.
She hesitated for just a moment—then nodded.
"Sure, let's do it."
They bought tickets, slipped inside just as the theater was opening, and took their seats. No popcorn since they'd just eaten, just two drinks with different flavors between them.
Mio had fully intended to use the movie as a teaching moment. Horror films had natural openings—good excuses to lean in, calculated reactions, plenty to work with.
Then the lights went down.
The smile on her face froze.
It didn't happen all at once. It crept up on her—the way the score built in the wrong direction, shadows shifting at the edges of the screen, the loaded silence before something moved—
Oh.
Oh no.
A face appeared on screen without warning.
Mio's hand flew to her own mouth before she could make a sound.
She tried. She genuinely tried—digging back through her memory for the version of herself that had watched horror films without blinking, trying to reconstruct that particular state of calm.
It wasn't there.
The harder she looked for it, the more the sounds filled the gap instead: that score, those effects, the specific wrongness of them—
As the film moved into its most intense stretch, Mio realized with absolute certainty that she was not going to be able to think her way out of this.
A card I didn't even upgrade, she thought, and it's doing this to me.
Yumiko had been watching her from the corner of her eye the whole time.
Last time they'd watched a horror film together, Mio's fear had been textbook-precise—perfectly timed, obviously calibrated, the work of someone in full control of their performance. That had been clear.
This was different.
There was a texture to it now that hadn't been there before. Mio's shoulders were genuinely hunched. Her fingers were actually pressed against her mouth. Something about the way she was watching—or trying not to watch—felt real.
Yumiko quietly reached over and took her hand.
Mio startled slightly. Then, feeling the warmth of Yumiko's palm against hers, let out a slow breath.
"You don't have to watch if it's too much," Yumiko said softly.
Several seconds passed.
"...I'm—" Mio's voice came out quieter than she'd intended. "I'm fine. I just. Don't look at me like that."
Unupgraded, she thought again. What happens when it levels up?
She didn't follow that thought to its conclusion.
······