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When Mafuyu looked in the mirror, nothing resonated with the face staring back at her. It never felt like ‘her’, or anyone, really.
Though, it made sense. ‘Asahina Mafuyu’ wasn’t a real person at all, merely a fabrication made up by her mother, held together by everyone else in her life who forced her to keep up the facade. Really, as far as she was concerned, anyone could play this role; she was just the actor cast this time with no choice in the matter.
Although the members of Niigo were trying to find the real version of her, to ‘save’ her, sometimes, Mafuyu sometimes believed that nothing would ever truly find her, despite everyone’s best efforts. Even if you’re finally found, a small voice whispered in idle moments. Could you continue to be a ‘good girl’? Could you continue to please everyone while being the true version of ‘herself’? Is that possible, and could you be able to live with that, if it wasn’t?
What did it mean to be a ‘good girl?’
That line of thinking used to end there like one of Kanade’s MP3 files had corrupted before the chorus, looping the last phrase over and over until she finally managed to tune it out.
She had never realized how much she hated everything her mother picked out for her until recently. The plain walls, the blue curtain, that striped carpet, her nondescript calendar that seemed far too big, only really existing to take up space on her plain wall. She had grown to loathe the plastic plants her mother had picked out for her, fawning about how wonderful her room would look with a little green inside, set high enough that she couldn’t even reach to pretend she took care of them.
She hated her clothes the most, she soon realized.
They were far too mature for her - her mother doted on her, going on about how lovely and ladylike she looked in them, but Mafuyu thought she looked more like a grown woman than any of her peers. They were always the same: muted colors, skirts and long-sleeved shirts, and the occasional sweater. They felt wrong, too - if she thought about it for too long, she couldn’t focus on anything but the way it rubbed wrong on her skin.
Mafuyu didn’t know herself, but even then, she somehow knew that this wasn’t her. They felt alien, like another costume in order to properly play her role of the perfect daughter. If she was free to find her own style, she wondered idly, how would it have developed?
She doesn't know now. That was buried like everything else.
Maybe this was something Kanade would be interested in for her song. Or, maybe, Mizuki’s fashion expertise...
—
“How do you look for clothes?” Mafuyu idly asked in that night’s meeting.
“I can help with that! What are you interested in?” Amia’s icon lit up green, as Mafuyu expected. She could almost see their catlike smile from behind the screen.
“I don’t know.”
“Really, Yuki? Well, is there anything you don’t like?” Enanan always had something to say, Mafuyu thought… but she seemed pretty curious as well.
“The clothes I have right now… I don’t like them.”
Amia lit up once again, and Mafuyu expected their next response too. “I can help you out~! Maybe, next time you’re free, I could take you shopping. I’ll even pay!”
“... That would be alright.”
-
After a text exchange about times and places, Mafuyu stood the next day at the doors of a boutique Mizuki picked out. Mizuki waved at Mafuyu as they approached, bags in hand with their usual catlike grin. “Yahooo, Mafuyu~!”
“Mizuki. You seem prepared.”
“Of course I am, I’ve been looking forward to it~!”
“... That does seem like you.”
“Just follow me! If anything catches your eye, just tell me, okay?”
“I will…” … but I don’t think anything will, she almost finished with. Mizuki opened the door to the boutique, and Mafuyu trailed behind them, waiting for them to drag her any which way. “Yahoo~!” They greeted the woman behind the counter with a wave.
“It’s good to see you! Did you bring a friend?” She greeted. Huh. So Mizuki is a regular here, Mafuyu mused.
“Yeah! She’s letting me dress her up with whatever bits and bobs I want.”
“Good luck then, haha! I’m sure she’d look good in plenty.”
Mafuyu politely smiled at the cashier, masking her discomfort towards the comment. Yet another person with expectations for her without knowing a thing about her… How annoying.
“Don’t worry about her,” Mizuki whispered, grabbing Mafuyu’s arm and rushing her towards the closest clothing rack. She allowed herself to be dragged around, not really hating the contact enough to say anything. Mizuki was clearly excited about helping her out, so she didn’t care much if it made them happy.
“Hmm, hmm…” Mizuki looked through the first rack, trying to eyeball something close to Mafuyu’s size that would look good on her. Finally, they took a shirt from the rack and held it up to Mafuyu. “How’s this look?”
Mafuyu immediately shook her head. She wasn’t sure how her mother would feel, but nothing stood out about it.
“That’s okay, that’s okay~ Hmm… How about this skirt?” They picked a random skirt from a nearby rack and held it up once again.
Mafuyu shook her head before Mizuki was even finished lifting it up, feeling a strong rejection the blue frills in front of her. “I don’t want a skirt.”
“Huh. Okay!” With the slightest hint of what Mafuyu wanted, Mizuki got a twinge of inspiration. They could already imagine her in an androgynous style, and that was enough to send them on a rampage.
“Follow me!” Mizuki guided Mafuyu toward another end of the store, one with completely different styles to what Mizuki usually wore. They didn’t usually touch this area, but making an outfit for Mafuyu out of this would be a fun experiment. Plus, they got to help Mafuyu out; it was a win on both fronts! They occasionally glanced back at Mafuyu while holding up an article of clothing, cross-referencing shirts, pants, hats, and jackets to each other in a frenzy, all while Mafuyu watched onwards, perplexed.
“Was the idea of no skirts really all you needed...?”
“Yep! Almost done, too.” They started selecting certain clothing together, and then handed the selection to Mafuyu in a neatly folded pile. A proud smile adorned Mizuki’s face. They were really pleased with this outfit. “Just trust me. Try it on. I think you’ll really like it once you get to see the whole thing! Promise me you won’t look until it’s all put together?”
Mafuyu blankly stared at the stack of clothing in her hands. She didn’t think anything more of this set, at least with what she could see, but she didn't want to make her companion put it back without at least giving it a try. “...Okay.” After a slow nod from Mafuyu, Mizuki guided her to the dressing room.
Getting the clothes on was easy enough. Mafuyu didn’t take much of a look at them, simply focusing on the task of getting them on her body. She’d see how she felt afterwards, she supposed. They were comfortable enough, and she didn’t hate that.
You should change out of that. Your old clothes were much nicer, her mother’s voice echoed in the back of her head, and Mafuyu’s hand froze up on the doorknob, turning cold and clammy.
No, I don’t want to.
She rejected the thought with a shake of her head. “Mizuki, I’m coming out now.”
She turned the doorknob to the sight of Mizuki’s quickly growing smile. “You look amazing! Here, let me just—” They rushed over and placed a hat on her head, adjusting it a bit by the brim until it looked just right. “Are you ready now?”
“I guess.”
Gently, they took hold of her shoulders and turned them toward the next mirror.
Mafuyu hardly recognized the person in front of her. It was… almost…
She adjusted the jacket a bit and observed the outfit: an oversized black coat over a white patterned shirt tucked into black jeans. Though it was simple enough, it was something she had never seen herself in before, and without even realizing it, she was smiling.
“Oh, Mafuyu, you’re…”
“Hm?”
“Nevermind that! Do you like it?”
Mafuyu truly tried to think about it, blank purple eyes staring into themselves reflected in the mirror. It felt right . Something clicked, but she couldn’t figure out what. What she had figured out after looking for long enough was this: if she could dress like this forever, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
“I… think I do.”
Maybe, if he could dress like this forever, it wouldn’t be so bad…