Hikari stood in front of her closet, staring at it like it had personally wronged her.
"I have nothing to wear."
She said it flatly, with complete seriousness, even though the evidence in front of her clearly proved otherwise. Her closet was full—neatly arranged skirts, blouses, sweaters, dresses, all the things she had worn countless times without ever thinking twice. There was nothing wrong with any of them.
And yet, none of them felt right.
She folded her arms and frowned, her gaze drifting toward the bed behind her. Three outfits were already laid out there, or more accurately, thrown aside in defeat. One was too casual, one felt overly dressed up, and the last one hovered somewhere in between but still didn't sit right with her.
She grabbed the first outfit, a light pink sweater paired with a skirt, and held it up in front of the mirror. For a moment, she just stared at her reflection, tilting her head slightly as if a different angle might magically fix the problem.
"…Too much."
She didn't even sound unsure. The judgment came quickly, almost instinctively, and the outfit was tossed aside without hesitation.
Next.
She picked up a hoodie and a pair of jeans, something simple and comfortable. This time she paused longer, staring at herself with a more thoughtful expression.
"…Too normal."
She blinked, then frowned at her own reflection.
"…What does that even mean?"
The question lingered for half a second before she sighed and tossed that aside too.
Next.
A soft blue dress.
She hesitated a little before lifting it, stepping closer to the mirror as she held it against herself. The fabric looked good. The color suited her. For a brief moment, she almost looked convinced.
"…This is cute."
Her cheeks slowly warmed as she kept looking.
"…Too cute."
That one got tossed even faster than the others.
Hikari let out a frustrated sound and buried her face in her hands. "Why is this so hard?"
She gave up and dropped onto her bed, grabbing the nearest pillow and hugging it tightly as she pressed her face into it. Her voice came out muffled.
"It's just shopping…"
She paused, then slowly lifted her head.
"…With a boy."
Her face turned red almost immediately, and she flopped onto her back, staring up at the ceiling as if it might offer some kind of answer.
"Okay… not just shopping."
Why am I thinking this much about it?
It wasn't a date. He never said it was. All he did was agree, just a simple "sure," like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Her lips puffed slightly.
"…He didn't even hesitate."
She kicked her legs lightly against the bed, annoyed at something she couldn't fully explain.
"…What kind of reaction is that?"
Her eyes drifted toward her phone, still lying beside her, still showing his last message.
Okay.
That was it. Nothing more.
And somehow, that made her smile.
"…Idiot."
She sat up suddenly, shaking her head as if trying to reset herself.
"Okay. Focus."
Sliding off the bed, she walked back to the closet and took a slow breath, forcing herself to think properly this time.
"Think logically."
She raised a finger like she was explaining something to an imaginary audience.
"Not too dressed up."
Another finger.
"Not too casual."
A third.
"And something comfortable."
She nodded to herself, satisfied with that reasoning.
"That should work."
A few minutes later, she stepped back from the mirror again.
This time, she didn't immediately reject what she saw.
The outfit was simple and light, nothing flashy, nothing that stood out too much. It looked effortless, like she hadn't spent nearly this much time deciding on it.
Even though she absolutely had.
"…Okay."
She turned slightly from side to side, checking the fit, adjusting her sleeve, smoothing out her hair.
"…This is fine."
She leaned in a little closer to the mirror, her expression tightening again.
"…Right?"
Her head tilted.
"…Not weird?"
A pause.
"…Not trying too hard?"
She froze.
"…I am trying too hard."
A groan slipped out as she covered her face again, already feeling the embarrassment creeping back.
A few seconds passed before she slowly lowered her hands, exhaling quietly.
"…It's fine."
She straightened up, trying to convince herself.
"…It's just him."
That should have made things easier.
For some reason, it didn't.
She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, then picked up her phone. Just before leaving, she glanced at the mirror one last time, as if making a final check.
"…Okay."
A small nod followed.
"Let's go."
She turned toward the door, took a step—
Then abruptly stopped.
She rushed back, grabbed her lip balm from the desk, and slipped it into her bag.
"Almost forgot."
This time, she didn't stop again.
As she stepped out of her room and gently closed the door behind her, her heart was already beating a little faster than usual.
Not because she was going out.
Not because of shopping.
But because, for the first time in a while, she was actually looking forward to seeing someone.
I pulled my shirt off without really thinking about it and tossed it onto the edge of the bed. For a moment, I just stood there, not doing anything in particular. My mind wasn't focused on anything either. It was one of those rare, quiet pauses where everything just… slowed down.
My gaze drifted toward the mirror across the room.
I don't usually look at myself. There's never really been a reason to. It's just something I've never paid attention to. But today, for some reason, I stopped.
And actually looked.
I wasn't weak, at least not physically. That much I already knew. Walking everywhere, carrying things, handling stuff on my own over time—it kept me in decent shape whether I cared about it or not. Still, I'd never gone out of my way to notice the details.
Now that I did, it felt a little strange.
I was… in shape.
Not bulky, not anything impressive in that way, but there was a clear structure to my body. My shoulders had definition, my arms weren't thin, and my torso had those faint lines that only really show up when you're paying attention. My stomach was flat, with just enough muscle to be noticeable without looking forced. It wasn't something I'd built intentionally. It just… happened.
Like my body had been taking care of itself while I wasn't looking.
"…Huh."
That was all I said, mostly because I didn't have anything else to add.
My eyes moved upward.
My hair had grown out more than I thought. It wasn't messy exactly, but it wasn't neat either. It brushed lightly against the back of my neck and fell over my eyes just enough to be noticeable. Normally, I kept it short. It was easier that way. Less maintenance, less attention.
Less to think about.
But this time, I didn't reach for the scissors.
Instead, I stepped a little closer to the mirror and ran my fingers through it, pushing it back and letting it fall naturally into place. It didn't look bad. Actually, it looked… different.
I looked different.
And for some reason, I didn't mind that.
There was a quiet pause after that, the kind that lingers just long enough to feel real, before I finally turned away and started getting dressed.
When I stepped out again, it felt like something had shifted. Not in any dramatic, life-changing way, but enough to notice. Like I'd reset something without realizing it.
I kept things simple. A dark shirt, clean and fitted just enough to look intentional, with a light jacket over it. Black jeans, nothing flashy. Shoes I didn't put much thought into.
It was normal.
But not the kind of normal I used to hide behind.
This time, it felt like a choice.
I stopped in front of the mirror one last time. My hair was still longer than usual, falling naturally instead of being forced into something neat and forgettable. It changed the way my face looked slightly, softer in some ways, sharper in others.
I didn't look away right away.
"…This is fine."
It wasn't confidence, not exactly. But it wasn't indifference either.
And somehow, that difference felt bigger than it should have.
I reached for my contacts, hesitated for a second, then put them in. The world shifted slightly as everything settled back into focus. Not perfect, not completely clear, but not the same blur I was used to either.
For the first time in a while, it didn't feel like I was hiding behind anything.
I picked up my phone, slipped it into my pocket, and headed for the door.
She was waiting.
And this time, I didn't mind being seen.