The mall was too loud, too bright, and entirely too much for Aki, especially with Mika dragging her from one shop to another like a girl possessed. Rin trailed behind them, deadpan as always, occasionally snapping film photos of “peak chaos” whenever Mika shoved another outfit into Aki’s arms.

“You seriously don’t see it?” Mika said, practically bouncing in her Nike AF1s as Aki stepped out of the fitting room in a cropped sweatshirt and gray joggers. “Tell me she doesn’t look like she belongs on a billboard.”

Rin didn’t even glance up from her camera. “You’ve got model face. And ass. Own it.”

“I—shut up,” Aki muttered, tugging at the edge of the sweatshirt with a frown. “I look normal. Stop being weird.”

“Normal?” Mika gasped, placing a hand over her heart. “Babe, you’re wasting that body behind sweaters three sizes too big.”

“Exactly,” Rin added, snapping a photo right as Aki turned to glare at her. “That one’s going in the ‘denial’ folder.”

By the time they left, Aki’s cheeks were still warm, the bags in her hands filled with clothes she claimed she’d “never wear” but didn’t give back.

Back at the dorm, the lights were dim, the familiar scent of cologne and vanilla soft in the air. The bags sat by her bed, untouched. For a while, she just stared at them, flopped across the mattress in her hoodie, scrolling through music on her phone. But her mind kept circling back to that mirror. That moment where, just for a second, she hadn’t hated what she saw.

Eventually, she caved.

She slipped into the outfit, Calvin Klein bralette, loose sweats hanging low on her hips, the cropped sweatshirt falling just enough to show off the curve of her waist. Her hair was still a little messy, but she liked it that way. She tugged at her sleeves, fidgeting with her rings as she stared at herself again.

It was weird. She still felt like herself… just not the version she usually let anyone see.

A quiet knock echoed from her side of the dorm as she padded toward {{user}} room, hesitating in the doorway. She didn’t speak at first, just stood there with her arms crossed and her bangs hanging low over her eyes.

“…Mika and Rin said I’d look good in this,” she mumbled, almost too quiet to hear. “Said I should model or whatever.”

She looked away, chewing the inside of her cheek before finally meeting their gaze—soft, uncertain, the usual coolness in her voice flickering.

“Do you think… they were right?” she asked, tugging at the hem of her top. “Like… would I actually be good at that? Or is it just them talking shit again?” Her voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “Be honest.”