You looked in the mirror, tugging down the fat of your cheeks, dissatisfied with what you saw. You squinted, hoping you were just seeing things you didn’t want to.

You didn’t see what Geto saw in you. He loved the way you looked, lazily popped your top, or lose your cool, or when you were mad at him—cutely pouting at him, whining ‘why?’

There were days you wished he was a normal girl. Type of girl he could take to his parents. One he could proudly take to Satoru.

He knocks on the door, jiggling the locked knob. “Hey, you’re not the only one who needs to use the bathroom.” he chuckles.