Time passed like wind slipping through the leaves, unnoticed until the branches began to sway. What began as a strange and reluctant bond between Kokoro and the so-called "fat guy" had blossomed into something far more significant. They weren't friends in the traditional sense, at least not according to Mika's logic, but they spent every possible moment together.
From the quiet hush of library corners to sun-drenched afternoons playing retro games on an old console in Mika's sprawling living room, their lives began weaving together in quiet harmony. Mika, still appearing to the world as a chubby boy in oversized shirts and a habit of stuffing his face during lunch breaks, would sometimes shyly invite Kokoro to hang out at her place. Kokoro never refused.
It was during one such visit, lying on the living room floor with crumbs of potato chips between them, that Kokoro, with the same honesty that made Mika's heart ache, turned to her and said:
"You know, fat guy, you're probably the bestest friend I've ever had."
The moment those words escaped his lips, something inside Mika burst.
Her round cheeks flared red, the chips in her hand forgotten. She turned her head slightly away, biting her lower lip to hold back the stupid smile forming there. But her voice, cool and even, came out as it always did.
"Hmph. I never agreed to be friends."
Kokoro blinked, puzzled. His expression dimmed for a second, like a cloud passing over the sun. But he quickly chuckled, rubbing the back of his head.
"Well, yeah. I guess... I'm fine with whatever we are now. I just really enjoy being with you."
He smiled at her, wide and full of that genuine light. Mika turned away before he could see how red her ears had turned. Idiot... I'm not your friend. I don't want to be... she thought. I want to be your wife.
The very thought made her insides twist into nervous knots. A husband. She wanted him to be her husband. That phrase echoed in her mind like a bell, loud and embarrassing. Her face turned beet red, and she had to bury her nose in a pillow just to muffle her scream.
Kokoro blinked at the sudden outburst. "Uh... you okay?"
"Shut up!" Mika's voice was muffled through the pillow. "Idiot Kokoro!"
---
One particularly peaceful morning, as sunlight filtered through the windows of their classroom, Mika trudged in late with a half-eaten melon bread in her mouth. She wiped crumbs from her shirt and froze when she saw Kokoro already at his desk, hunched over something with intense focus.
Curious, she walked over, craning her neck to see.
"Yo. Morning, fat guy," Kokoro greeted without looking up, his ears tinged pink. His pencil moved in swift, delicate strokes. "Uh... don't mind this. You kinda caught me at a weird moment."
"What're you doing?" she asked, dropping into the chair beside him.
He hesitated. Then, with a bashful grin, held out the paper.
It was a sketch—a girl. Beautiful, delicately drawn. She had short, flowing hair, ethereal white in the light strokes of Kokoro's pencil. Her eyes were icy and calm. On the side, scribbled in Kokoro's neat handwriting, were notes:
Preferred Heroine: white hair / white eyes / aloof but kind / rich girl with a cool expression / plays the piano
Mika's eyes widened.
"You're drawing a girl?"
"Y-Yeah," Kokoro stammered. "I was just… trying to design my ideal heroine. I want to make a manga someday, and… well, this is the kind of girl I'd like to draw. She's kinda cool and mysterious, you know? But also… sweet, deep down."
Mika's heart pounded. The girl in the drawing looked eerily familiar—not in face, but in aura. It was like looking at a blueprint… of who she could become.
"So... this is the type of girl you like?" she asked, voice small.
Kokoro rubbed the back of his head. "Y-Yeah. I mean, someone like this probably doesn't exist in real life. So I figured… I'd just draw her myself. That way I can at least see her alive… even if it's just on paper."
His voice was soft, wistful. His eyes sparkled with that innocent dreamer's light.
Mika bit her lip. If that's the girl he wants… then that's the girl I'll become.
That night, Mika pulled out a mirror and stared at herself for hours. At her round cheeks. Her messy hair. Her boyish clothes. No more, she whispered. I'll become her.
---
And so the first year of middle school came to a close. And just before the school year ended… Fat Guy transferred. No goodbye. No explanation. Kokoro never saw her again.
Back in the present day—
Kokoro was now redder than a ripe tomato, still resting on Mika's lap in the quiet of the volleyball storage room. Her slender fingers gently brushed his bangs aside.
He didn't dare open his eyes.
His voice was barely audible. "So... you changed everything... because of me?"
Mika's lips curled into a soft, playful smile. She leaned down, her breath tickling his ear.
"Since then... I trained myself to become the perfect girl you ever wished for."
And in that moment, Kokoro's heart thudded so loudly, he was sure she could hear it.
___________________________________________
A heavy silence hung in the air between Kokoro and Mika. The volleyball storage room, now warm with sunlight pouring through the high slatted windows, felt unusually still. Dust floated lazily in the light beams, and the wooden floor creaked slightly under their movements. Kokoro remained on the floor, still resting awkwardly in Mika's lap, his eyes averted, face flushed deep crimson.
Then, in a soft but resolute voice, Mika broke the silence.
"Kokoro... I love you. I truly, truly love you."
Her voice was gentle—barely above a whisper—but it hit Kokoro like a drumbeat to the chest. His breath caught, his body stiffened. He could feel her fingers lightly brushing his cheek, so warm, so gentle, it made the rest of his body freeze in place.
"I've loved you since then," she continued, her white eyes gleaming with raw honesty, "but lately... it's been terrifying. Other girls getting close to you... smiling at you... talking to you like they know you. I just couldn't take it. I felt so jealous, so scared of the thought of losing you. So... I had to do this. Please understand."
Kokoro couldn't speak at first. His mind was racing, heart hammering against his chest like a drum. His cheeks were hot, his lips dry. He swallowed hard and finally managed to croak out, "W-What am I supposed to... do now...?"
Mika tilted her head slightly, her short white hair shifting softly. A sweet, yet oddly teasing smile graced her lips. Her expression was a mix of amusement and certainty, like a fox that knew exactly where her prey was going to run.
"If you're still unsure about how to respond to my confession... then let's go on a date this Saturday," she said sweetly. "I'll make sure you fall for me, properly this time."
Kokoro's heart skipped a beat.
"A d-date...?" he echoed, voice trembling. He was blushing so fiercely now that even his ears were turning red.
Mika giggled, her fingers still lightly caressing his cheek. "Yes, a date. I'll take care of everything. Just say yes."
He paused, gulped, and finally gave a small, stammered nod. "S-Sure... I guess..."
An awkward silence fell over them again, only this time it was thick with a different tension—half sweet, half suffocating. Mika didn't seem to mind. She sat there contentedly, still gently tracing small circles on Kokoro's cheek.
Kokoro, meanwhile, was screaming internally. What do I do now? She just confessed. And a date? Saturday? What even is this situation...
"S-Shouldn't we leave already?" he asked, desperate to change the topic. "Our classmates might get suspicious..."
Mika's gaze twinkled. She leaned forward slightly and said, "Don't worry. It's not like they'd be wrong to think something's going on. Besides... you'll be mine soon enough."
"I-I'm doomed," Kokoro muttered under his breath.
"I heard that," Mika sang, smirking.
He stood up quickly, his knees wobbling slightly. "Okay, let's go already..."
But then Mika's next words froze him in his tracks.
"Oh, right... the key. You'll need to get it first."
"Huh?" Kokoro blinked.
Mika rose to her feet with a stretch and an impish grin. She reached up to the collar of her uniform and tugged it slightly aside to reveal a modest sliver of skin. Then she pointed downward at the hidden spot between her collar and her chest.
"The key's right here. Between these."
Kokoro's face combusted into a fiery red.
"W-What!? Are you crazy!?"
Mika laughed, the sound crystal-clear and full of delight. "I'm just teasing! Or maybe not. Who knows? You're always so cute when you panic like that."
"You're seriously the worst," he groaned, burying his face in his hands.
"Maybe, but I'm your worst. And don't worry..." she leaned closer, her voice lowering to a silky whisper, "on Saturday, I'll show you just how serious I am."
Kokoro nearly melted on the spot.
Mika turned, finally pulling the real key from the pocket of her skirt. She tossed it gently into the air and caught it with a grin. "Let's go before I change my mind and really make you fetch it."
He glared at her, red as ever, but couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips. I'm in trouble, he thought. So much trouble...