Hikari stood in front of her closet, staring at it like it had done something unforgivable. After a long silence, she sighed.
"I have nothing to wear."
She meant it, too. Completely serious.
Which would have made sense… if her closet wasn't clearly full.
Rows of clothes hung neatly in place—skirts, blouses, sweaters, dresses. Outfits she'd worn countless times without a second thought. Normally, she could just grab something and be done with it.
Today, though, nothing felt right.
Her gaze shifted toward her bed. Three different outfits were spread across it in a messy pile. She had tried all of them already.
One felt too casual. One felt too dressed up. The last one almost worked, but something about it bothered her and she couldn't explain why.
She reached for the first outfit again, a light pink sweater paired with a skirt, and held it up in front of the mirror. Tilting her head slightly, she studied her reflection.
"…Is this too much?"
She paused, then shook her head.
"Yeah… it's too much."
She tossed it back onto the bed without hesitation.
Next.
A hoodie and jeans. Simple. Safe. She stared at it for a few seconds, arms crossed.
"…Too normal."
She frowned.
"Wait… what does that even mean?"
That went flying onto the pile too.
Next.
A soft blue dress.
She held it up and stepped closer to the mirror this time, taking a better look. The color suited her. The fit was nice. For a moment, she didn't say anything.
"…This is cute."
Then her cheeks slowly turned pink.
"…Too cute."
She dropped it onto the bed and covered her face with both hands.
"Why is this so hard…?"
With a groan, she flopped backward onto the bed and grabbed the nearest pillow, hugging it tightly.
"This is just shopping," she mumbled into it. "Just walking around. Totally normal."
She went quiet for a second, then slowly lifted her head.
"…With a boy."
Her face warmed instantly.
"…Okay. Not normal."
She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts starting to spiral.
Why am I overthinking this so much?
It wasn't a date. He never said it was. He just said "sure".
Her lips puffed out slightly.
"…He didn't even hesitate."
She kicked her legs lightly against the mattress.
"What kind of reaction is that…?"
Her eyes drifted toward her phone, still lying nearby. The screen was dark now, but she didn't need to check it again. She already knew what the last message said.
"Okay."
That was it.
Just one word.
And somehow… it made her smile.
"…Idiot."
She sat up suddenly, as if snapping herself out of it.
"Okay. Focus."
Sliding off the bed, she walked back to the closet and took a steady breath.
"Think about this properly."
She raised a finger, like she was organizing her thoughts.
"Not too dressed up."
Another finger.
"Not too casual."
A third.
"And something comfortable."
She nodded to herself.
"…That should be enough."
A few minutes later, she stood in front of the mirror again.
This time, she didn't immediately find something to complain about.
The outfit was simple. Light. Easy to wear. It didn't stand out too much, but it wasn't plain either. It looked natural, like she hadn't spent nearly this long deciding on it.
Even though she definitely had.
"…Okay."
She turned slightly, checking her reflection from different angles. She adjusted her sleeve, smoothed out a wrinkle, then ran her fingers lightly through her hair.
"…This is fine."
A pause.
"…Right?"
She leaned in a little closer to the mirror, studying herself more carefully.
"Not weird…?"
She tilted her head.
"Not trying too hard…?"
She froze.
"…I'm trying too hard."
A quiet groan escaped her as she covered her face again.
After a few seconds, she lowered her hands and let out a breath.
"…It's fine."
She straightened slightly.
"…It's just him."
That thought should have made things easier.
For some reason, it didn't.
Shaking her head, she reached for her bag and slung it over her shoulder. Then she picked up her phone and headed toward the door. Just before leaving, she glanced back at the mirror one last time.
"…Okay."
She gave a small nod to herself.
"…Let's go."
She turned to leave—
Then stopped.
Quickly, she rushed back, grabbed her lip balm from the desk, and slipped it into her pocket.
"Almost forgot."
This time, she stepped out of her room and closed the door behind her.
Her heart was already beating a little faster than usual.
Not because she was going shopping.
Not because she was going out.
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.