Kokoro stepped out of the costume shop, a small plastic bag swinging at his side. Inside, the mustache and fake beard he had just bought for tomorrow's little disguise mission nestled quietly in their packaging. He exhaled, finally relaxing after getting a little too excited inside the store. His steps were light as he wandered out of the shop, considering whether to roam around the mall for a bit longer before heading home.
Just as he was turning the corner, his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure a few meters ahead.
"Naomi...?"
He froze in place.
She wasn't alone.
Two guys were standing next to her, leaning just a little too close, their body language loud and cocky. One wore a baseball cap backward and chewed gum like he owned the place, while the other had a smug grin and an oversized hoodie with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
Naomi, for her part, didn't look uncomfortable exactly—but she was clearly uninterested.
______________________________
A little while earlier, Naomi had dashed out of the cab like a sprinter escaping a crime scene. Her cheeks had nearly burst trying to suppress laughter at the all-white fashion disaster that was her cab companion. It was pure instinct: flee before the giggles exploded.
Once safely inside the mall's entrance, Naomi let out a breath and placed a hand over her chest.
"That was close," she murmured, chuckling under her breath.
She walked over to the large mall directory screen. Her eyes scanned it quickly before stopping at the basement level—B1, miscellaneous goods.
"Bingo."
She made her way to the descending escalator, pulling out her phone and opening her shopping list app.
To Buy:
Yarn (blue, red, yellow, green, orange)
Fabric scraps
Beads
Buttons
Thread
Glue
Scissors
Paints
Markers
Colored pencils
Colored paper
Stickers
Ribbons
As the escalator carried her down, she flicked through the items with a half-focused mind, already imagining what project she could finish today.
Stepping off the escalator, Naomi was greeted with the low hum of chatter, carts wheeling by, and upbeat store music echoing faintly. She followed the signage and entered a large, brightly lit miscellaneous goods store.
It was alive with energy.
"Does this glue come in glitter too!?" a kid shouted at his mom.
"Look! They have cat-shaped sticky notes!" a girl squealed to her friend.
Naomi grabbed a shopping cart by the entrance and gripped the handle with determination. "Alright. Let's not get distracted this time."
She walked down the aisles like a soldier on a mission. Shelves lined with colorful knick-knacks, rows of jars with beads, bins overflowing with scrap fabrics. The temptation was real. Her fingers itched to grab everything.
But she had a plan—and more importantly, she only brought just enough money.
"No distractions… no distractions…" she repeated to herself like a mantra.
Until—
She stopped.
There, at the end of an aisle, hanging off a rotating display rack…
A penguin keychain.
Not just any penguin. A chubby, smiling one wearing a tiny red bowtie and holding a heart.
Her eyes widened, sparkling. Her lips parted slightly.
"Oh my god… why is that the cutest thing I've ever seen?"
She stared at it like a girl discovering puppies for the first time. Her hand reached for it, her fingers just brushing the plush surface.
Then—reality.
Her wallet.
Naomi whimpered internally. "No… I didn't bring extra… I told myself not to..."
She looked at the penguin. Then at her wallet. Then back at the penguin.
Her inner child threw a tantrum.
"I hate being responsible," she muttered under her breath.
Pouting slightly, Naomi gave the keychain one last lingering look before sighing and trudging forward, her cart squeaking gently behind her.
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The line at the counter was longer than Naomi had hoped, and she shifted her weight from foot to foot as she waited, her shopping cart full of colorful arts and crafts materials. Despite the slow pace, Naomi's face was calm, almost absentminded, as she double-checked her mental list.
Yarn? Check. Thread, scissors, markers... stickers... oh, the penguin keychain doesn't count. Damn it.
Her eyes subtly flicked down to the cart, scanning the items with the precision of someone determined not to make a second trip. Once satisfied, she let out a soft breath and returned to watching the line slowly move forward.
When her turn finally came, she stepped forward and began placing each item on the counter with practiced ease. The scanner beeped rhythmically as the counter lady passed item after item across it. A nearby staff member, a boy with tired eyes and an apron that read "Stock & Bag," began packing the items neatly into a paper shopping bag.
"That'll be 14,450 yen," the counter lady said brightly, tapping a few more keys on her register.
Naomi reached into her back pocket and pulled out her slightly worn but reliable wallet. From it, she drew a crisp 15,000 yen note and handed it over without a word.
The cashier accepted it with a nod, opened the cash drawer, and handed back 550 yen in coins. "Thank you for shopping. Please come again."
"Yeah," Naomi said with a soft nod, slinging the heavy paper bag in her arms. Her tone was neutral, but her mind was already drifting.
So... maybe something asymmetrical for the base? Something that has movement. But then... a circular motif might look better with the button pattern. Ugh. Maybe layer the ribbons underneath?
She muttered to herself as she exited the store, the cool mall air brushing gently against her face. The buzz of mall chatter, shoes clacking against the polished tile, and the scent of sugar-coated crepes in the distance filled the air.
Then it happened.
Two figures stepped into her path.
One wore a backwards baseball cap, a football jersey, and tight jeans. The other had a hood over his head, swallowed in an oversized green hoodie with baggy jeans sagging just enough to show his patterned boxers.
"Yo, cutie," Cap Guy grinned, his teeth glinting. "You always shop like you're on a mission or are you just tryin' to run away from someone?"
"What's with the serious look? Smile a bit, babe," Hoodie chimed in, leaning close enough to make Naomi flinch slightly.
Naomi let out a sharp exhale through her nose and rolled her eyes. Her arms were full with the paper shopping bag, so she couldn't even make her usual threatening gesture. Instead, she just glared at them, her black eyes narrow.
"Not interested," she said flatly.
"C'mon now, don't be like that," Cap Guy said, stepping closer. "We're just being friendly."
"Your idea of friendly smells like discount cologne and desperation," Naomi snapped.
"Damn, feisty. I like 'em like that," Hoodie muttered, eyes glinting with something Naomi didn't like.
Before either of them could say more, a sharp voice cut through the tension.
"Excuse me! Is there a problem here?"
All three turned. A security guard, broad-shouldered and older, with gray streaks in his hair, stood with a stern expression. His uniform was immaculate, and one hand rested near the radio on his shoulder.
"Nah, nah, just talking," Cap Guy said quickly, both of them immediately trying to play it cool.
"She looked lonely," Hoodie added with a weak laugh.
The security guard looked at Naomi. "Miss, are these men bothering you?"
Naomi, still holding her bag of supplies, gave a tired nod. "Yes."
The guard's gaze hardened like steel. He stepped forward.
"If I catch either of you harassing shoppers again, I'll make sure your faces are posted at every entrance in this mall," he said, his voice low and firm. "You'll be banned. Understand?"
The boys didn't wait for a second warning. They muttered something unintelligible and fled toward the escalator, disappearing among the crowd.
Naomi sighed. "Thanks."
"It's my job," the guard said. Then he added, "Though you should really be thanking the young man who noticed and asked me to check in."
Naomi blinked. "Young man?"
"Yeah, some kid in an all-white outfit. Looked like he fell into a laundry basket and decided to wear everything."
Naomi's eyebrows twitched.
"White t-shirt, shorts, sneakers... black hair?"
The guard nodded. "That's the one."
Naomi stared at him, stunned for a moment. That weirdo from the cab? He noticed? She blinked again, this time with something close to surprise blooming in her chest.
"...Huh."
She bowed her head slightly in thanks again and walked away, her eyes scanning the crowd with quiet urgency.
Kinda dumb looking... but still.
Naomi glanced over railings, between benches, and into side shops. No sign of him.
"Probably left already..." she mumbled.
Still, part of her didn't stop looking, not even when she stepped onto the escalator and rode it back up to the first floor—one last hope lingering quietly in her eyes.
Kokoro peeked carefully from behind a cardboard cutout of a giant chibi magical girl, its pastel colors and oversized eyes a poor cover for someone trying to stay unseen. The moment Naomi vanished up the escalator, Kokoro let out a long, weighted sigh of relief.
"That was a close one," he muttered, adjusting the paper bag in his arms, still containing his freshly bought disguise kit. "I swear, she's like one of those manga heroines... Even the classic 'thug pickup' event happened to her. What is she, the main character now?"
Despite the tension from earlier, a small chuckle escaped his lips. He shook his head. "Tch... Should've guessed. Tomboy or not, Naomi just has that stupid charm."
As he turned to walk away from his hiding spot, a sudden ringtone rang out from his pocket, slicing through the mall's layered ambiance of idle chatter, shoe steps, and background music. Kokoro blinked and took out his phone.
[MIKA - CALLING]
He paused, thumb hovering above the screen. A bead of sweat trailed down his temple.
He picked up. "Hey, Mika. How's your Saturday?"
But what greeted him wasn't Mika's usual smug remark or teasing tone.
Only silence.
Then—
"...I heard," came her voice. Soft. Slow. Heavy.
Kokoro's spine straightened.
"Heard what...?" he asked carefully.
"From one of my subordinates... that you were seen at a maid café... with some girl."
Kokoro's eyes widened, the blood in his face draining faster than a bath with a pulled plug.
"Wait, Mika—! It's not like that. I can explain!"
But just then, a cold breeze swept past him.
Not the mall's AC.
A presence.
A scent of elegant perfume with a strange, commanding chill.
He slowly turned around.
And there she was.
Mika.
Phone still pressed delicately to her ear.
Shoulder-length white hair, perfectly tied back in a soft bun with a delicate ribbon, stray locks framing her flawless porcelain face. Her lips were a muted crimson—soft, almost ghostly, yet vibrant against her snow-pale complexion. Her ashen-gray eyes glimmered—not with their usual confidence, but with something far more terrifying.
Calm rage.
She wore a flowing white dress that clung lightly to her figure, with long white socks and soft-heeled shoes. The aura she gave off was ethereal, like a goddess descended in fury. To any bystander, she would've looked like a vision of beauty—two teenagers dressed entirely in white, caught in a romantic, slow-motion stare-off.
But for Kokoro?
It was a horror scene.
Kokoro's phone lowered slowly from his ear, his heart pounding like a war drum in his chest.
Mika's lips curled up in a soft, unreadable smile. "So...?"
A single word, sharp as a blade in its simplicity.
Kokoro wanted to say something. Anything. But the words caught in his throat like thorns.
"It—it's not like that, Mika. I mean, yes, I went to a maid café... but it wasn't like a date or anything! It was—"
He stopped. Her eyes hadn't blinked once.
"Explain," she said again. This time without a smile.
The weight of the mall's atmosphere seemed to press against Kokoro's chest. He gulped, gripping the paper bag like it was a lifeline.
"W-We were investigating something, Aikawa Sayuri and I. For the manga project. That's all."
Silence.
Mika tilted her head slightly.
"Sayuri, huh?" she said in a voice that barely touched the air.
Kokoro flinched. He was in very, very deep trouble.