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Hitoka stands inside a clothing store’s changing room and looks at the mirror. She barely recognizes herself in the reflection—a mid-thigh dress is the last thing she would have picked for herself, but it looks great with the emerald tights she was wearing in the first place. The dress is a deep red color with puffed sleeves and a black closed collar—something that she would have considered mature and sophisticated, more suitable for a girl like Kiyoko than herself.
A soft knock comes on the door and she realizes perhaps she’s been there for too long. She slowly opens the door and steps outside, showing the dress to Kiyoko.
“Wow, you look beautiful,” she comments almost breathlessly, and Hitoka thinks she might be getting a fever.
“I would have never picked something like this,” Hitoka confesses, her voice shaking. “It’s too fancy for a girl like me, don’t you think?”
“Nonsense, you look great. I knew it would suit you,” Kiyoko insists as she pushes Hitoka back into the changing room. This time she gets inside, too, and stands behind Hitoka in front of the mirror.
“Red is your color, Hitoka,” she says, pointing at the dress.
Hitoka has to admit the rich red looks quite well with the green on her thighs. Still, she didn’t think it meant she looked good, but Hitoka wasn’t exactly the embodiment of healthy self-esteem.
Kiyoko’s reflection looks thoughtful when Hitoka locks eyes with her through the mirror.
“What’s wrong?” Hitoka asks, her stomach beginning to bubble with anxiety.
“Hold on,” Kiyoko orders as she rummages through her purse. She pulls out a few hair pins and lip gloss. “Stay still.”
Hitoka watches her transformation silently—Kiyoko patiently braids parts of her hair and safely holds them back into her head with the hairpins. She finishes by applying the lip gloss and Hitoka is acutely aware of the fact that Kiyoko is wearing the same gloss—that the lip gloss applicator already touched Kiyoko’s lips.
Ten minutes later they’re standing at the register paying for Hitoka’s new dress.
“She’ll be wearing it, that’s fine, right?” Kiyoko asks softly, and the clerk nods as she places Hitoka’s previous outfit inside the store’s bag.
Hitoka stares at her reflection on every mirror inside of the store before they leave. She can’t help catching a glimpse of herself every time her body is reflected in the glass windows of different stores on the way to the café they’re visiting after.
“Next time you help me pick something for myself, ok?” Kiyoko mentions as they walk, smiling at her sweetly. Hitoka is just thrilled at the possibilities of next time.