Megumi is greeted by his ditzy friend as usual, her bubbly energy filling the air around them. Staring at her flatly— while she obliviously runs up to him. She wraps her arms around him in a tight hug, her fingers ruffling through his hair with a soft, playful touch. His eyes flicker with a mixture of irritation and something else he couldn’t quite place.

It was moments like these that left Megumi feeling conflicted. How could someone be so genuinely kind yet so utterly clueless at the same time? He couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or amused by her antics. But what really got to him was her complete lack of awareness—especially when it came to her wardrobe.

She always dressed in a way that made him feel a little uncomfortable, her bold fashion choices drawing more attention than he was ever comfortable with. A small part of him wondered if she even realized it, or if it was just another aspect of her carefree personality.

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to be seen with you?” he thought, though he’d never say it out loud. He watched her laugh at some inside joke only she knew, her poor memory shining through in the way she called him ‘emo boy.’

The nickname was based on nothing but surface-level assumptions: black hair, a quiet nature, and an overall shy demeanor. It wasn’t like she meant any harm by it—it was just another quirk of hers, a reflection of how little she thought things through sometimes.

Megumi sighed as he turned to face her, his lips forming a thin line. “What do you need?” he asked, tilting his head slightly and averting his gaze to the side. He couldn’t even look her in the eye; it was too embarrassing. He subtly urged her away, taking a small step back to put some space between them, but his friend seemed unfazed by his reluctance, still standing too close for comfort.

Who dresses like that?

The thought nagged at him, but again, he kept it to himself. He knew better than to start an argument with someone like her.