Chapter Text
I stare intently at the sign hanging right above the decorated doorframe. In giant letters, gleaming in an unnecessarily eye-searing shade of hot pink, it reads: "Girls Only."
What a pain. Not this again.
I let out an imperceptible sigh and discreetly glance down both sides of the sidewalk. The warm afternoon air carries the sickly-sweet smell of fresh pastries and scorching asphalt, but my real focus lies elsewhere: I need to make sure none of the usual nuisances from my daily life are anywhere nearby. The last time I tried to attend a themed event like this, the resulting chaos left sociological ruins that took me weeks to repair.
I activate my telepathy within a modest radius—just enough to map the street's mental perimeter and confirm that none of the usual idiots I’m stuck with are in the vicinity.
"Is this gonna take much longer? The sun is already burning my skin..."thinks a teenager walking by while adjusting her bag.
"I’m gonna blow all the money I made from my part-time shift at 7-Eleven on this café, but it’ll be for a good cause..." reasons another, her eyes glued to the display window.
"Uwu, my Discord daddy gave me a little present after I..."
I cut off the signal immediately. Okay, that’s enough. I definitely didn't need access to that piece of information.
I give my head a light shake in an attempt to purge someone else’s thoughts from my memory. Ordinary people are already inherently weird, but the ones who gravitate around me seem to cross every possible boundary of "bizarre."
I walk with calculated steps toward the public restroom in the adjacent park. I step into a stall, lock the door, and use my transformation ability.
Dear readers, I will skip the transformation for the sake of my own sanity and for your ultimate happiness.
I turn the doorknob and step out of the stall. Unfortunately, on my way to the main door, I cross paths with a guy who had just walked in to use the urinals. The man freezes mid-step, his eyes bulging so far out they nearly pop out of their sockets, and lets out a high-pitched shriek of pure terror upon seeing a pink-haired girl emerge from the men’s room.
Oops. Forgot about that minor structural detail. Ignore and move on.
When I finally reach the entrance of the café, I’m greeted by a mile-long line stretching down the block. A slight burst of clairvoyance combined with a tweak to the temporal perception of the people around me would be enough for me to slip through the door unnoticed. However, I strictly refuse to use my psychic powers for personal gain. As the exemplary, perfectly civilized citizen I strive to be, I take my place at the back of the line and patiently accept the burden of waiting my turn.
When I finally cross the threshold, I’m met with an overwhelming aesthetic. The interior of the café is an architectural nightmare painted in pastel shades of baby pink and cream.
On the tinted glass windows, stickers of kittens with giant bows set the "cute vibe" of the place, while fluffy cushions cover the light wood benches. The atmosphere reeks of a thick scent of vanilla extract and powdered sugar. Honestly, the decor is irrelevant. The only reason I’m here is for the limited-edition, artisanal coffee jelly.
I pull my wallet from my pocket, set aside coins totaling exactly 350 yen, hand the payment to the cashier, and settle onto an incredibly soft round cushion in the most discreet corner of the room.
Waiting five minutes in the real world feels like an eternity when the object of your desire is at stake. Finally, the waiter approaches carrying a cut-crystal glass. The jelly rests beneath a glistening layer of fresh cream, reflecting the room's soft lighting like a precious gem. I bring my hands forward with extreme caution, holding the plate like someone carrying a priceless historical artifact. I plunge my spoon with millimeter precision and bring it to my mouth.
Time literally stops.
The firm texture yields perfectly to the touch of my tongue, releasing the dense bitterness of roasted coffee in absolute balance with the velvety sweetness of the cream. A shiver of pure ecstasy runs down my spine. The physical reality of the bubblegum-pink café fades completely. Suddenly, I find myself transported to an infinite celestial garden, where golden sunflower petals and white jasmine blossoms float gently under a warm breeze. I am alone in a state of gastronomic nirvana, isolated from all human stupidity, savoring divine perfection in the form of dessert. Nothing—absolutely nothing in this universe can ruin this moment—
"Look! Isn't that Kuriko-chan?!"
Shit.
"Wait, it really is! Kuriko-chan! Let's go over there!"
No. Stay right where you are. Don't take another step.
My telepathic prayer is summarily ignored by the laws of tragic probability that govern my life. Without asking for the slightest bit of permission, four familiar figures drag chairs over and crowd around my tiny table, obliterating my garden of jasmine and slamming reality right back into my chest.
"Hi, Kuriko-chan!" Chiyo Yumehara exclaims, leaning forward with a beaming face, grabbing my right hand, and shaking it with unbridled enthusiasm that nearly knocks over my glass. "So good to see you again!"
Too bad I can't say the same. Thanks for stopping by, now please vanish into thin air.
"Mmm! Wow, I haven't seen you in forever, Kuriko-chan!" declares Chisato Mera.
Before even finishing her sentence, Mera shoves a massive slice of chocolate cake whole into her mouth. Her cheeks puff out like a squirrel hoarding nuts for the winter, defying human anatomy by swallowing the cake whole without showing the slightest sign of choking. How that is biologically possible, don't ask me.
"Kuriko-chan, it's so great to meet you! I've heard so much about you!" says Mikoto Aiura, leaning in with a broad smile and reaching out to touch my arm.
The exact millisecond Aiura's skin contacts my arm, the spiritual aura surrounding me collides directly with her fortune-telling vision. Aiura's brain processes the energy signature instantaneously: the cute girl in front of her is actually Kusuo Saiki. Her expression transforms into a mask of pure shock. Her eyes widen, her mouth drops open, and she jumps back in her chair, nearly knocking over the table.
"A-Aiura-san?! Are you okay?!" Chiyo panics, staring at her friend as if she’s having a sudden breakdown.
"I-I'm... I'm fine!" Aiura stammers, adjusting herself in her chair while wiping cold sweat from her forehead and locking her eyes on me with a mix of dread and mockery.
Her mind screams at me on a high frequency: "Saiki?! I didn't know you could turn into a girl!"
Of course I can. I can turn into any living organism, which obviously includes a girl. Now fix your face before they get suspicious.
As the commotion settles, Kokomi Teruhashi remains silent. PK Academy's Perfect Girl tilts her head slightly, holding an intense, analytical gaze on me for several long, agonizing seconds. The divine glow surrounding her seems to sparkle with even greater intensity. Slowly, her lips curve into a flawless, sweet, and completely unreadable smile.
That is definitely not a good sign. Worst of all, for some bizarre reason, her mind is a complete void right now—no clear thoughts are surfacing, preventing me from reading her next move.
"Ah... I get it!" Aiura blurted out, having fully recovered from the shock and now sporting a mischievous, teasing smirk. She leans across the table and says in a conspiratorial tone: "You only came here to get close to Teruhashi-san, didn't you?"
Get real.
Teruhashi blinks a few times, her face instantly flushing a soft shade of pink that matches the store's decor perfectly. She tucks a strand of her blue hair behind her ear, hesitates for a moment, and, staring at me with shining eyes, softly blurts out:
"Um... Kuriko-chan... c-can you tell me more about yourself?"
Say what now?
"Honestly, I'd really love to know more about Saiki-kun..." Teruhashi continues, clasping her hands in her lap with an expression of pure, angelic modesty. "But... I have to admit, I'm a little curious about you too!"
I feel a drop of cold sweat run down my mind.
About me? Now what? I need to make up a generic, average teenage girl profile immediately. Think, Saiki, think... something utterly boring.
"I play the recorder," I say, adjusting my pitch to match the feminine voice I created for this persona. "And sometimes... I like to paint. Yeah... painting pictures. And I love cats."
What? That sounds like the most stereotypical, cliché list of what people think girls do (at least to me).
"That's so cool!" Teruhashi exclaims, her eyes sparkling with genuine fascination. "I'd love to hear you play the recorder sometime!"
And I wouldn't like that at all. Spending more than ten minutes in your presence is asking for a catastrophe.
"Yeah... me too," I lie blatantly, keeping my expression completely neutral.
The group continues to pester me for another twenty minutes, asking intrusive questions and draining every last drop of my vital energy, until they finally get tired of my lack of enthusiasm and pivot into a side conversation about fashion and sweets.
Obviously, the universe wouldn't be cruel only halfway. When I stand up with the explicit intention of escaping, I’m promptly dragged into the "girls' day out" they had planned—a social event I would rather throw myself off a building than participate in.
We walk along the busy commercial street. The fog of small talk around me is so thick that I tune out my hearing entirely. I get so distracted trying to calculate the nearest escape route that I completely miss the topic of conversation, until a sentence from Aiura pierces through the air:
"So... Kokomi-san, would you date Kuriko-chan?"
I stop dead in my tracks on the asphalt. Hold on. I was so distracted I didn't even follow the logic. How on earth did the conversation escalate to this point?!
"W-Well..." Teruhashi stammers, covering her flushed cheeks with both hands, visibly caught off guard by the fortune-teller's direct question. She glances at me, then down at the ground, completely flustered. "Kuriko-chan is really cute... b-but I don't like girls! My heart belongs solely to Saiki-kun!"
That declaration isn't comforting in the slightest. I need to find a way to vanish right now.
"Ah... don't be such a chicken, Kokomi!" Aiura said, giving her own back a loud, dramatic slap and letting out a laugh that made two elderly people at the bus stop glare at us. She leaned toward me, thumb pointing at me like she was showing off an odd prize at a yard sale. "She's Saiki's sister, isn't she? It's the exact same genetics! What's the difference?"
A vein pulsed on my temple. The air around my head oscillated by two millimeters from a micro-burst of involuntary telekinesis that almost blew the roof off the nearest shoe store.
"Aiura. Cut it out right now." I send the telepathic message straight to the center of her brain, using the coldest, sharpest mental voice I can project.
Instead of turning pale, Aiura gave her chin an impudent little tilt, crossing her arms over her chest and letting out a cocky huff that echoed in my mind like static on a bad radio:
"What's wrong, Saiki-kun? What are you afraid of? It's just a silly joke! Look at her face, it's priceless!"
"W-Well... it's not that, Mikoto-san! It's just that... I... Saiki-kun is..." Teruhashi stammered, her face tangled in a shade of red so deep it reached the tips of her ears. The divine glow that usually orbited her head flickered like a loose lightbulb. PK's goddess was literally short-circuiting in public, her fingers twisting into the fabric of her skirt with enough force to tear the cloth. "I'm a proper girl, and my heart already belongs to someone, and... and Kuriko-chan just met me, and..."
"HARU'S PIES MUST BE ON SALE!" Chisato Mera's roar cut through Teruhashi's explanation like an axe hitting a wooden board.
Mera popped out of nowhere, emerging from the flow of pedestrians with wild eyes, a suspicious drop of drool at the corner of her mouth, and her index finger pointed at the concrete and glass giant towering across the avenue.
It was the brand-new Saiko Grand Plaza, a twenty-eight-story architectural monstrosity recently inaugurated by Metori Saiko's family empire. The building gleamed so brightly under the afternoon sun that it looked like it was made of mirrors polished with hundred-yen bills. Flashy LED signs displayed pretentious slogans, and the smell of the food court—fried food, brown sugar, and roasted coffee—leaked through the giant automatic doors, acting as an irresistible magnet for Mera's chronic hunger.
"Look at that! It's the grand opening of Saiko-kun's mall!" Chiyo Yumehara exclaimed, clasping her hands in front of her chest with heart eyes. "I heard they have an entire wing just for imported Paris boutiques and bakeries with executive chefs! Girls, we have to go!"
"Free tasting samples..." Mera whispered, her voice trembling at a near-demonic frequency as her pupils dilated. "Free brie cheese samples... artisanal bread... if I eat fast enough, I won't have to eat dinner until Tuesday..."
Before I could even entertain the idea of faking a faint and teleporting to the top of Mount Fuji, I was swept away by a human wave. Mera grabbed Chiyo's arm, Chiyo pulled Teruhashi, and Teruhashi—with the gentleness of a drill sergeant and the grip of a hydraulic press—grabbed my wrist.
Stepping into Saiko Grand Plaza was like stepping inside a golden watch powered by sheer flex culture. The fountain in the main lobby didn't spout ordinary water, but sparkling mineral water imported from the Swiss Alps that emitted a light scent of orange blossom. The echo of hundreds of voices chatting, the sound of designer bags rustling against legs, and the constant clack of high heels on imported marble created a deafening cacophony.
Thousands of people shoved past each other through corridors decorated with modern bronze sculptures. And, as expected of beings endowed with unshakeable logical intelligence, the group of girls made the most rational decision possible to handle the crowd:
"The mall is way too big!" Chiyo announced, trying to make herself heard over the ambient orchestral music playing from the ceiling. "If we all stay together, we won't get to see anything! Let's split into pairs! Mera-chan will come with me to the savory food wing and the dessert court, and Mikoto-san... well, Mikoto-san can check out the cosmetics section!"
"And Kuriko-chan stays with Kokomi-san!" Aiura added, winking at me with a mischievous look that made me want to throw a virtual piano at her head. "After all, Kuriko-chan needs some fashion advice, and who better to help a new girl in town than the most perfect girl in school?"
Surprise. A total of zero people in the universe were shocked by this group split.
Mera and Chiyo vanished into the ocean of people like two stones thrown down a well, while Aiura waved and evaporated toward a luxury occult shop. It was just down to me and Kokomi Teruhashi, standing in the middle of the main corridor, surrounded by the glare of spotlights and the constant hum of the crowd.
The silence between us stretched for thirty long, painful seconds. Teruhashi looked down at the floor, her designer shoes tapping a slow rhythm on the marble. The soft scent of her rose shampoo blended with the new air-conditioner smell of the mall.
"A-About that conversation earlier..." she began, her voice coming out soft, almost swallowed by the noise of a nearby water fountain. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, lacking the courage to face me directly. "I'm sorry. Mikoto-san sometimes... goes way too far with her teasing. She doesn't mean any harm, but... sometimes she says ridiculous things without thinking."
I noticed. In fact, I'm taking notes on every single one of them for future payback.
She began to walk slowly, and I kept pace half a step behind her, maintaining my posture and the neutral expression of "Kuriko." We passed by glittering display windows showcasing jewelry, handbags that cost the annual budget of a small town, and faceless mannequins dressed in extravagant clothes. Teruhashi looked around, visibly searching for a conversation starter to break the monumental ice floating between us.
"Ah... I don't know where to start..." she murmured, placing an index finger on her chin.
Suddenly, her eyes lit up. An invisible lightbulb turned on above her head with such intensity I could almost feel the thermal heat of the idea. She turned to me, giving a small hop on her heels, hands resting in front of her body.
"I know! How about we buy some clothes for you?!"
Ah... no. For the love of God, please no.
The logic behind this refusal was purely pragmatic: I don't use this female form in my daily life unless it's strictly necessary to escape a crisis or buy restricted sweets. Any piece of clothing bought today would end up rotting in the back of my closet, gathering dust and moths until being summarily donated or thrown in the trash. It would be a horrific waste of yen and, even worse, an unrecoverable waste of my precious rest time.
And besides, didn't we already do this a few episodes ago?
"I don't think that's necessary... I'm fine like this," I tried to say, using the most uninterested, sharp tone my Kuriko voice could manage.
My resistance, however, was worth exactly zero against the obstinate determination of the Perfect Girl. Before I could take half a step back and dissolve into the crowd, Teruhashi grabbed my wrist with a iron grip wrapped in velvet and dragged me into a high-end boutique called L'Étoile.
What on earth got into people today to give themselves the constitutional right to drag me wherever they please?!
The store was a temple of refined consumerism. The floor was covered in a charcoal-gray carpet so soft that your feet sank slightly with every step. The lighting came from suspended crystal chandeliers that projected warm, soft light, and the air smelled of imported lavender perfume and genuine leather. Saleswomen in tailored suits bowed with flawless smiles as we passed.
Teruhashi navigated the clothing racks with the precision of an elite hunter. Her eyes sparked with pure practical enthusiasm. She grabbed silk dresses, ruffled blouses, pleated skirts, and wool coats, piling them up in her arms without even looking at the price tags.
However, amidst that mountain of colorful frivolities and flashy fabrics, something in the most discreet corner of the store caught my eye.
It was an outfit displayed on a dark wood mannequin. The combination was the exact definition of sobriety and functional elegance: a long-sleeved white blouse made of a light, loose fabric, featuring an extremely understated rounded collar. It was paired with a high-waisted navy-blue skirt with a gentle drape, tied delicately at the waist with a bow made of the same fabric. Over it, a long beige trench coat with a classic, structured cut that fell to the knees, boasting dark, elegant buttons down the front. To top it off, opaque black tights accompanied by short black leather boots.
The ensemble balanced the delicate blue of the skirt with the absolute neutrality of the coat and blouse. It didn't have stupid glitter, it didn't have unnecessary necklines, and above all, it looked insanely comfortable.
I reached out and touched the fabric of the coat sleeve. Just to test it. Nothing major.
"Ah! You like that one?!" Teruhashi's voice popped up right next to my ear, making me give a slight internal startle. She didn't give me time to answer. With the speed of a hurricane, she pulled the outfit off the rack, added it to the colossal pile of clothes she was already carrying, and ruthlessly shoved me into the VIP fitting room. "Try everything on! I want to see how it looks!"
The heavy wooden door closed with a definitive click.
The fitting room was larger than my bedroom at home. It had a velvet sofa, a giant triple mirror covering an entire wall, and front lighting designed to make any human look like a movie star. I let out a long, deep sigh, heavy with the fatigue of a long, annoying day.
I looked at the mountain of clothes on the sofa. The first item on the pile was a conceptual nightmare.
I grabbed the fabric and put it on out of sheer moral obligation to wrap this up quickly.
When I finished adjusting the zippers, I faced the mirror.
It was a short light-blue denim dress, extremely tight at the top, with a halter neck that left my shoulders and most of my back completely exposed. The waist was defined by a thin strap of the same fabric, while the skirt consisted of slightly gathered layers that gained volume with every movement. To complete the madness of the outfit, there was a pair of knee-high white boots with low heels and pointed toes, plus a white cross-body bag with a long strap.
I felt a sudden heat rise to my cheeks. The feeling of having so much skin exposed to the cold air was deeply unpleasant. An involuntary blush flushed across my face as I unlocked the fitting room door and took a hesitant step outside.
Teruhashi, who was sitting on the waiting sofa outside sipping a cup of tea offered by the saleswoman, froze.
The porcelain saucer trembled in her hand. Her cheeks instantly flushed a ripe cherry red, and she averted her eyes toward the drywall ceiling with almost comical haste.
"I-I don't think that one really suits you, Kuriko-chan..." she said, her voice wavering slightly as she fanned her face with her free hand.
"Agreed," I replied, crossing my arms to try and cover my shoulders. "This is suffocating me. Besides, it's way colder out here. The air conditioning in this mall must be set to 60 degrees, and this outfit leaves way too much skin showing. It's illogical."
I turned on my heel and retreated into the safety of the fitting room.
I spent three minutes sorting through the pile of clothes.
Every piece that looked like it was designed to expose collarbones, thighs, or shoulders was summarily shoved to the corner of the sofa. I picked the most covered-up, outrageous option from the pile to see if she would finally give up on this absurd fashion show.
I threw the ensemble on quickly and stepped out of the fitting room once more.
This time, it was a long, solid-black dress with a fitted top and long sleeves made of slightly sheer lace. The waist was tightly cinched by a corset detailed with small silver buttons, while the skirt draped heavy and wide, nearly touching the floor. At the waist, two overlapping silver chains with large links and small moon-shaped charms swayed with every step, matching a series of silver necklaces Teruhashi had hung around my neck.
The look radiated a dark, gothic aesthetic, where the silver accents cut through the darkness of the fabric with dramatic contrast.
Way too extra. I look like a villain from a Victorian romance novel plotting to poison the baron.
Teruhashi covered her mouth with both hands, but she couldn't hold back a muffled sound that escaped her fingers. Her shoulders shook before she let out a sweet, crystal-clear laugh that made two saleswomen in the background smile sympathetically.
"It looks... it looks hilarious on you, Kuriko-chan!" she said, her eyes shining with genuine amusement.
I stared at her with a deep furrow in my brow. Then why on earth did you pick it in the first place if you knew it would look like this?
I spun on my heels and marched back into the fitting room in annoyance.
This torture session was going to last a very, very long time.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀˚ ˖𓍢ִ໋❀
.
.
I honestly don't even know how much time passed before we finally walked through the glass doors of L'Étoile.
When we stepped back out into the mall corridor, I felt physically and mentally drained, as if I had fought ten rounds against a Spartan army.
I didn't bother counting how many outfits I tried on, but I cycled through every aesthetic variation known to mankind: sporty, casual, retro, beachy, and even something that looked like a luxury equestrian uniform.
In the end, reason prevailed. I ended up buying only two outfits: the first one, the navy skirt with the beige trench coat that I had liked from the start, and a second set consisting of a simple, short pastel-red dress paired with thick black tights and short red ankle boots that covered plenty of skin.
Teruhashi didn't buy a single thing for herself, but she walked out of the store radiating such a pure aura she looked like she had just come out of a spiritual spa.
"Ugh... I think I'm gonna throw up."
Teruhashi slowed her pace, looking around the crowded corridor and pulling her smartphone out of her pocket to check the time. The millisecond she paused under the main lobby light, a group of about five teenagers walking past in uniforms from a neighboring school froze as if hitting an invisible wall.
Their jaws dropped in unison. The glow around Teruhashi reached maximum transmission levels.
Noticing the attention, Teruhashi tilted her head softly, flashed an angelic 45-degree smile, and gave a graceful little wave with her fingertips.
All five boys turned as red as ripe tomatoes, let out indecipherable noises of panic, and took off running, trampling over each other in the process of escaping.
Teruhashi let out a muffled, thoroughly satisfied chuckle. Mission accomplished.
Before I could calculate the fastest route to the emergency exit, she grabbed my arm again. This time, we didn't head toward the shops or the food court. She led me to the bank of panoramic escalators, and we rode them up. First floor, second floor, third... we kept going all the way to the top level of the complex, a high floor with almost no open shops, just marble walls and service doors.
I had no idea where she was taking me. There was literally nothing up there except silence and the distant hum of the building's ventilation motors.
Teruhashi kept guiding me down a side hallway lit by recessed floor lights until we rounded a corner and stepped through a large set of double glass doors.
We stepped onto a fully open terrace. It was a sort of rooftop garden and lookout built on top of Saiko Grand Plaza.
The space featured teak wood decking, elegant potted ornamental plants, and an expansive balcony protected by a tempered glass railing. There were a few couples leaning against the wall and small groups of teenagers taking photos with their phones, enjoying the breeze at the top of the building.
For some reason that defied the logical chronology of the afternoon, night had already fallen completely over the city. The sky was painted a deep shade of dark teal.
Curse you, writer. The time skips in this universe are unbelievable.
Teruhashi walked to the edge of the balcony and rested her delicate hands on the cold glass, leaning forward slightly to gaze at the horizon. I walked over slowly to join her, keeping a respectable distance of two steps.
I have to admit: the view was impressive.
Down below, the metropolis stretched out like an endless sea of twinkling lights. Car headlights on the avenues formed yellow and red rivers cutting through the darkness, and the neon signs of neighboring buildings reflected off the terrace glass. It wasn't a completely unobstructed field of view, as a few taller skyscrapers blocked the horizon line, but the height offered a strange sense of isolation and calm.
The air up there was surprisingly fresh and crisp. Strangely, the stars shone with an unusual intensity for a night in the big city, sprinkling silver dots across the dark backdrop of the sky and making the view genuinely pleasant.
The warm glow of the terrace lamps brushed against Teruhashi's profile. The orange light hit her blue highlights, creating a warm, coppery reflection that made her face look uncommonly soft. It was a pretty scene, almost artistic.
I was so distracted soaking in the rarity of a peaceful moment without mass telepathy that I didn't even notice when Teruhashi started talking. Her voice came out low, without the theatrical projection or exaggerated sparkle she usually wore in public.
"You know... sometimes... I come to places like this to think," she said, her eyes never leaving the sea of lights below.
I shifted my gaze from the city to look at her profile. Her blue eyes reflected the glow of distant buildings, staying fixed on the landscape.
"I like it..." she continued, letting out a soft sigh that dissolved into the chilly night wind. "Having time to clear my head, you know? Forgetting who I am for a bit."
And suddenly, without her saying a word, her thoughts started floating over to me on a frequency so clear and serene it was impossible to block out:
"I used to come to places like this all the time... I'd always get lost on purpose from my friends or my brother during outings just so I could come up to a rooftop and stare into nothingness. I always... came alone. Because it's the only place where I feel comfortable... where I don't have to smile until my cheeks hurt or calculate the exact angle my hair will sway in the wind."
Slowly, Teruhashi turned around to face me. Her eyes met mine with an honesty so transparent that for a second I forgot I was in Kuriko's form.
"But... this time, I'm gonna let you join me, Kuriko-chan," she said, her tone carrying a simple sweetness, devoid of any conceit. "Just this once, okay? Because... you make me feel safe. Like I can just be who I am on the inside. The Teruhashi who feels things... not the Teruhashi everyone expects to see."
She took a short step toward me, the night wind blowing her strands of hair gently around her face.
"And, honestly... this is pretty new for me. I've never... felt like this with anyone."
Her mind sent an immediate follow-up, a thought wave pure and crystal clear:
"Besides feeling like this with Saiki-kun... But before, I didn't really know what that feeling was when I was around him. Now... looking at Kuriko-chan... I think I finally get it."
"Thank you," she concluded, smiling in a way that was human, real, and incredibly warm.
I looked at that smile. For a brief moment, my psychic guard dropped entirely. For a second, I wavered.
A tiny, almost imperceptible smile tugged at my own lips.
Yare yare... these people really only exist to complicate my life.
"You're welcome," I replied, and for the first time today, Kuriko's voice didn't sound artificial or forced. "I'm glad to keep you company."
The exact second the words left my mouth, I felt a wave of heat rush up my neck. My cheeks flushed slightly at the warm tone I had accidentally let slip.
Teruhashi's eyes widened. Her smile froze.
The skin on her face went from a soft rose to a crimson red so intense it looked like she had spontaneously combusted. She took an abrupt step back, spinning around with scary speed and covering her face with both hands.
Her mind exploded with thousands of thoughts per second.
"MY HEART IS B-B-BEATING SO FAST! WHAT IS THIS?! MY FACE IS ON FIRE! HER VOICE... HER SMILE... I-IT CAN'T BE! I-IT'S NOT POSSIBLE!"
Teruhashi let out a muffled little squeak, staring up at the night sky as if the universe itself were crumbling down on her head.
"COULD IT BE... AM I A LESBIAN?!"
Excuse me? Son