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The first time they called her by name, it wasn’t her name.
In the corridors of Tokyo Jujutsu High, rumors bounced around quickly - light, shallow, fleeting.
Kirara walked with her hands in her pockets, her steps slow, her heart heavy.
Back then, she still wore the male uniform. Shorter hair. A closed - off gaze. She didn’t feel like she had been born in the right body, yet showing that to others felt uncomfortable.
It was safer to stay silent and answer to a name that wasn’t really hers.
Or at least, that’s what she thought.
“You hide badly.”
Kinji Hakari’s voice reached her before she even turned around. He was leaning against the wall, crooked smile, confident, eyes shining like a light always on the verge of turning into a gamble.
“I’m not hiding.”
“Of course you’re not. And I don’t cheat at the slots.”
Hakari was far too famous for that - he always cheated.
Kirara raised an eyebrow. “You always cheat.”
“Nah, not always.” Then he gave her a warmer smile. “Only when it’s worth it.”
Silence.
Hakari was staring at her. Not like the others did. Not with curiosity, not with judgment. With attention.
As if he truly saw what she was trying to hide.
It was different. Annoyingly different.
Weeks passed. Missions together increased. Fights, arguments, and exchanged glances became routine.
And then came the day Kirara grew tired of hiding who she really was.
It was evening. The dormitory was almost empty - on weekends everyone went home. Everyone except her. The corridor lights flickered weakly. She was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, knees pulled to her chest.
Hakari found her like that. He hadn’t gone home either.
“Did someone bother you?” He asked immediately, his gaze dark, his voice lower than usual.
Kirara shook her head.
Then, finally, she spoke.
“I’m not… what they think…”
Hakari didn’t answer right away. He closed the distance between them and sat down beside her.
“I know.”
Kirara turned sharply. “You know?!”
“You’ve never been ‘that.’” He paused. “I see you. I don’t just see the label you show.”
The word hung in the air.
Kirara.
“If I said that…” Her voice trembled slightly. “That I’m not a boy?”
Hakari looked straight into her eyes. No surprise. No confusion. Just an almost arrogant certainty.
“I’d say you’re a girl.”
Silence.
Kirara’s heart pounded so hard it hurt.
“And nothing changes?” She whispered.
Kinji tilted his head, as if the question were almost ridiculous - and to him, it was.
“It changes that now I can say it clearly.”
He leaned a little closer. Too close.
“I like you.”
Kirara held her breath.
“I like the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice. I like it when you get angry and pout like an offended princess. I like that you’re stronger than you think.”
He brushed her chin with two fingers, gently lifting it.
“And I like that you’re a girl, because the moment you said it, your eyes lit up.”
Kirara’s cheeks flushed.
“Hakari…”
“I don’t care about before.” His voice dropped, more intense, as if those words were meant only for the two of them. “I don’t care what others see.”
He took her hand.
“I see you - the real you.”
The world seemed to shrink down to that room.
“And you’re mine.”
Kirara’s eyes widened. “Yours?!”
Hakari laughed, that trouble-filled smile of his.
“My girlfriend.”
Then his grin turned more mischievous.
“When I want something, I take it - even if I have to cheat. You should know that.”
Kirara felt something melt inside her, something she had been holding tight for years.
“And if someone has something to say?” She asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Hakari stood up and held out his hand.
“Then they’ll have something to say to me.”
Kirara snorted a laugh and laced her fingers with his as she stood.
Hakari kissed her forehead - slow, sure.
“You don’t have to hide anymore, okay?”
She closed her eyes, and for the first time, she didn’t feel wrong.
Hakari had truly seen her.
“Kirara…”
She said softly, eyes still closed.
Hakari listened to that name and smiled.
“Kirara, my girlfriend.”
He whispered it as he held her close.
In the days that followed, Hakari proudly showed off their joined hands in front of everyone.
And whenever someone stared a little too long, he’d glare at them before whispering sweetly,
“Ah, she’s my beautiful girlfriend.”
Kirara realized she would never be afraid again.
Because she wasn’t alone.
Hakari had always seen her - from the very beginning.
The day Kirara looked at herself in the mirror and truly recognized who she was, she cried.
She was wearing girls’ clothes, and she felt so good.
Her hands trembled as she adjusted the last strand of hair in front of the dorm mirror. Soft features. Light makeup. Colored lips hiding a shy smile that refused to go away.
It was her.
Finally.
The door opened without a knock.
“Hey, Kirar...”
Hakari froze.
Silence.
His eyes widened slightly.
Not because he was surprised.
But because he was left breathless.
Kirara slowly turned, cheeks flushed. “Well?”
Kinji stared at her as if he’d just hit the biggest jackpot of his life.
“You’re…” He took a step forward. Then another, until he stood right in front of her. “Dangerously beautiful.”
Kirara’s cheeks burned. “Idiot!”
“Seriously!” He cupped her face with both hands, gentle but firm. “If anyone stares at you too much today, I swear...”
“What are you going to do?” She asked, amused.
“I’ll ruin them.”
Two hours later, they were downtown shopping.
Hakari had insisted.
“It’s your day. We’re celebrating! I’m taking you out to dinner too!”
Kirara walked beside him in her new clothes: tight jeans and a light top with stars on it.
Every so often she stopped in front of shop windows, eyes bright - truly alive.
And people looked at her.
Not in a bad way.
But they looked.
A group of guys whispered as they passed. A clerk smiled a little too much. Someone on the phone turned around twice.
Hakari noticed.
He noticed everything.
“They’re staring,” He muttered, clenching his fists.
Kirara tilted her head. “Because I’m cute.”
Kinji glanced at her. “You are.”
“Problem?”
“Big ones.”
Before she could say anything else, Hakari wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against his side. Firm. Natural. Protective.
Kirara startled slightly. “Hakari…”
“What?” he said innocently. “I’m just walking with my girlfriend.”
Girlfriend.
Kirara felt her heart flip.
Another stare - this one more persistent.
Hakari stopped abruptly.
The guy across the street immediately looked away.
Kirara sighed. “You can’t intimidate everyone who looks at me.”
“I can try.”
She stared at him, then laughed. “Kin-chan, you’re jealous.”
Hakari leaned down toward her, crooked smile in place.
“Of course I’m jealous!”
He brushed his lips near her ear, voice low.
“You’re gorgeous. You’re confident. You’re happy.” A pause. “And you’re mine.”
A shiver ran down Kirara’s spine.
“Kin-chan…”
“Not because I own you.” He stroked her hand, then intertwined their fingers. “But because you chose me.”
Kirara’s eyes softened.
“I’d choose you again.” She confessed gently.
Hakari froze for a second.
Then he kissed her.
Right there, in the middle of the street.
Not chaste. Not excessive. Just full, sure, proud.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers.
“Let them look.” He said softly. “So they understand.”
“Understand what?”
Hakari’s smile widened—the same one he wore when victory was already his.
“That the most beautiful girl around is already taken.”
Kirara laughed - free in a way she’d never been able to imagine before.
As they kept walking, fingers intertwined, Hakari still shooting challenging looks at anyone who dared stare too long, Kirara realized something: it wasn’t just her body that had changed.
It was the way she walked.
Head held high.
Proud.
Loved.
And with a boyfriend ready to fight the entire world for her - even if, deep down, she knew she didn’t really need it.
But she kind of liked it anyway.