Mizuki sighs, hobbling outside with slow, systematic steps. Hinata saunters to meet her pace, grabbing hold of her wrist. For the first time in a while, she doesn't feel butterflies.
Normally, she would've because it's a bodily reaction to be nervous whenever there's Hinata. There'd be an electrifying zap at the particular spot where their skin touches, those feelings you can't understand until you've felt it yourself. It's normal, a little difficult to get used to but Mizuki has learnt to look past it.
Being a little out of it might've been a quick escape from the dizzying flips of her stomach. Or perhaps, it has become such a normal thing—something that shouldn't be feared or taken as a warning—that Mizuki has gotten accustomed to it.
The inconsistencies of the human body, Mizuki would remark if she was anywhere closer to consciousness.
