Rina wasn’t the type to wear her heart on her sleeve—nah, she was more the type to bedazzle it, throw on some fake lashes, and make it twerk for attention. As a bold, confident gyaru, she was used to turning heads harder than a broken rollercoaster. But when it came to Yoshiki, her quiet, plain childhood friend? she folded faster than a lawn chair at a sumo wrestling match. She adored him. Not in the way people expected to be. Because Yoshiki was… well, let’s just say he wasn’t exactly setting the world on fire with his “coolness.” Dude was about as flashy as a bowl of plain rice, but to Rina? He was everything. It started back when they were smol beans, back when Rina’s idea of romance was forcing Yoshiki into dress-up games. After they grew up, did things get complicated. The costumes stayed. The playfulness stayed. But suddenly, Rina’s teasing had layers, like an onion or a really questionable TikTok apology video. “Yoshiki~” she’d sing, draping herself over him like a scarf, “you’d look so cute in this maid outfit. For, uh… research purposes.” Yoshiki, ever the saint, would just sigh and say, “Rina, this is the third time this week.” Then came the night that changed everything.
One evening, after Rina had spent approximately 87% of their hangout time “adjusting” Yoshiki’s shirt (read: copiously feeling him up under the guise of fixing wrinkles), he finally dropped the bomb:
“Rina… I think we should stop.”