"Mia! I—I like you. Would you go out with me?"
"Sorry, I'm not interested in dating."
This was the first time someone had confessed their feelings to Mia, at least in her memory.
Even though she had completely forgotten what the boy looked like, remembering only a vague shadow,
She still remembered how she felt at that moment.
Every girl seems to fantasize about being confessed to, as if it marks the beginning of a romantic journey.
But to her own surprise, she was eerily calm at that moment, disturbingly so.
Perhaps it was because the youthful emotions that were about to be expressed were preceded by too many signs, so she was mentally prepared.
Or perhaps at that time, no one could make her even fantasize about the beauty of being in love; all she could feel was boredom and tedium.
So, compared to the other person's nervous, shy, and courageous demeanor, Mia felt like a cold-hearted executioner.
