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“Nyeh.”
Tsumugi has spent long enough with HImiko to know what her different nyehs mean, so she knows even before Himiko clarifies that she’s saying I hate it. Her eyes widen in shock and horror. “You do?!” she asks. “But I followed your exact specifications! Does it not fit?” She knows from looking at Himiko that this isn’t true, but she asks anyway, “Did you lose weight? Because I can take everything in if you need me to—”
“Nyeh.” Himiko crosses her arms and then presses them down. “There’s too much of this sparkly stuff.” Her lips purse into a scowl. “And it’s itchy.”
“That’s the netting!” Tsumugi exclaims. She kneels in front of Himiko and holds out the outer fabric of her skirt. “It makes this poof out. Don’t you want this to poof out?”
“Nyeh.”
Three weeks ago, Himiko announced her newest magic show. She’s not a star by any means, but she often does cheap magic shows for children’s birthday parties throughout the local small town. When she was really young, she became fascinated with magic shows. Her mother bought her a movie that explained how some of the tricks were done, and she decided to start learning some of them in her free time. Now, she’s enjoying herself. Her mom is proud of her. It’s something that’s not her usual nothing. And eventually, when she has a car, Himiko plans to do more than her cheap shows!
It’s not much, but it’s a job! One that she enjoys!
…most of the time!
Also three weeks ago, Himiko was approached by one of her classmates, Tsumugi Shirogane, who offered to make her a brand new costume. For free. The free part was the most appealing part to Himiko. Besides, it meant she got to spend time with Tsumugi, who was one of the few people who didn’t feel like she was sucking all of Himiko’s hard-earned energy.
…most of the time.
Tsumugi’s brow furrows. She leans back on her haunches and rubs her chin. “You don’t like the sparkles. You don’t like the poof.” She licks her lips. “Did I get the colors right, at least?”
Himiko doesn’t say anything.
“I thought you liked purple!” Tsumugi sniffs twice and runs a finger under one eye, wiping one tear away. “It’s okay. You can hate it. I plainly did too much.” She holds out a hand. “Take it off. I’ll fix it.”
“Nyeh.”
This one could mean no, but in most cases, Himiko would just say no. But then which no would it be? No, she’s not going to take it off? No, Tsumugi can’t fix it? No, she’ll just wear something else to her show?
“But you can’t!” Tsumugi exclaims. “You can’t wear just anything to your show, Himiko! You’ll look so plain!”
Three weeks ago, Tsumugi approached the magical girl who she’s known for probably longer than Himiko has ever known her. They’re classmates now, but Himiko performed at the boardwalk a few years ago when a much younger Tsumugi was walking by. She’d been enamored with her and followed her magic shows as much as she could ever since.
(She did not creep on the birthday parties. Mostly because those kids’ parents wouldn’t let her in the times she asked. And then one of them called the police. Like she was going to hurt someone or something!)
Three weeks ago, Tsumugi decided to go for it and set about designing the best, most prettiest magical girl outfit she could for the only magical girl she’s ever known.
….
And Himiko doesn’t even like it.
“Nyeh,” Himiko murmurs with a downcast gaze, which means, No, I can’t, but….
Tsumugi’s brows furrow. She thinks over every outfit she’s seen Himiko wear – not just to her performances, but as her classmate, too (and that’s it, nothing else; nothing she’ll admit to, anyway) – and tugs on Himiko’s skirt from her kneeling position again. “Give me ten minutes,” she says with a gleam in her eye. “Ten minutes, and you’ll love it.”
Himiko presses her lips together in a thin, downturned line. Then she nods.
It takes fifteen minutes, which means that Himiko is running more than a little later than she would like, but Tsumugi shoves the dress at her at the end of it, her gaze averted. “Here,” she says, hand covering her eyes (just in case). “It should be just plain perfect!”
Himiko looks at how much of the fabric still looks the same, winces (and finds herself oddly glad that Tsumugi isn’t looking and can’t see her reaction), and then pulls the whole thing over her head.
To be fair, earlier, Himiko wouldn’t have been able to put the dress on by herself. She would have needed Tsumugi (or someone else) to zip up the back and do all of the buttons and the lace tie around the back and…a lot of other fancy stuff that she knows Tsumugi thinks is pretty (they’re all over so many of the other things she’s created – and it’s not that Himiko doesn’t think those outfits are pretty, just that they aren’t her (and they’re constricting, which she really doesn’t need for a magic show)). This time, though, the dress slides on and fits perfect as a glove. She reaches back and is able to zip it up on her own and everything.
When she looks at herself in the mirror, Himiko notes just how much of the excess is gone. The netting that made her legs itch, the lace, the straps, the ribbons. But there’s just enough of it left to accent her in a way that makes her look like she actually has a shape. She doesn’t look like a little kid anymore, the way she has in so many of her other shows. She looks like herself. Like a grown version of herself.
In a word, she looks—
“Do you like it?” Tsumugi’s voice comes through the other side of the closed door between them. “I plainly tried my very best! But if you want to wear something else—”
Himiko opens the door, leans up on her tiptoes, and throws her arms around Tsumugi’s neck. “It’s plain to see,” she says, stealing Tsumugi’s words, “that I like it.” She kisses Tsumugi’s cheek, blushes, and looks away (missing the matching blush on Tsumugi’s cheeks). Then she spins away, the skirt lifting as she twirls. She picks her standard hat up and plops it on her head. “Nyeh.”
I’ll see you after the show.