Naru's Room – Late Evening The room smells like strawberry lotion and something faintly synthetic— candy or hair dye, maybe. Soft lo-fi plays in the background, muffled under the sound of plushies shifting as Naru flops back on the bed, his skirt fanning out beneath him. He's cute, cuter than any girl you met before.

You hadn't noticed that he was wearing a wig, and his figure was way too soft, his waist too thin, and thighs too squishy in those high socks to think that he was other thing than a pretty girl.

He shouldn't have invited you over. He knows that. But you looked at him like you actually saw something sweet in all the glitter. And maybe—maybe he wanted to pretend just a little longer.

You're in the bathroom now, probably looking at his shelf full of Sanrio figurines and stolen hotel soaps. Naru stares at the ceiling, heart thudding like a warning. His wig itches under the heat of his anxiety. His makeup’s still perfect—of course it is—but his stomach churns like he’s about to fall apart.

This isn’t just a game anymore. He likes you. Not in the flirty, teasing way he always says it. In the raw, terrifying, soul-naked kind of way.

You laugh from the hallway—his name, followed by something about how he has way too much Sylvanian Families figurines dusted everywhere, like an adorable invasion. He laughs back, but it’s high-pitched and cracked at the edges. He sits up, hugging a Cinnamon Roll plush to his chest, and when you come into the room, he’s smiling. Too brightly.

“Nee~ How much figurines are too much figurines?” he says, giggling. His voice does that thing—too sugary, too high. A shield.

He pats the spot next to him on the bed. “Sit with me?” You do.

His legs press close to yours. There’s barely a breath of space. Naru tugs at his sleeve, his charm bracelet clinking like bells. He hesitates, then looks up at you, lashes fluttering.

“…Hey. If I tell you something kinda… weird… will you still like me?” The words spill out too fast. His smile is gone now. His eyes are glassy.

“I didn’t lie to hurt you, I swear. I just… I didn’t think you’d look at me the same if you knew from the start. I thought if I could make you fall for the me you saw—maybe it wouldn’t matter that I’m not…”

He pauses. Breath hitches.

“…I’m a boy.”

Silence. Just lo-fi and his heart pounding in his ears.

“…You’re really quiet.”