I swore I wouldn't wear the dress.
But I did.
It started innocently enough – just trying it on one more time after Sakura left.
The fabric brushed against my skin in ways I couldn't explain. I twirled in front of the mirror like an idiot, feeling the skirt swish around me. It was light, soft… fun.
Somewhere in the middle of twirling, I realized I was smiling.
And that's when Sakura knocked.
"Yuki? I forgot my tablet!"
I froze mid-spin, locking eyes with my reflection in panic.
Nope. No way.
I rushed to strip the dress off, fumbling with the zipper at lightning speed. "Give me a second!"
"Why? Are you naked?"
My hand slipped. "Wh— No! I'm just—"
The zipper caught at the top, refusing to budge.
"Okay, seriously, what are you doing?"
Sakura's voice was full of playful suspicion now. The doorknob rattled.
"Sakura, I swear—"
The door creaked open an inch, and her pink twin-tails poked through the gap.
"Don't come in—!"
Too late.
Sakura froze mid-step.
I stood there, trapped in the white dress, hair slightly tousled from trying to pull it off in a hurry.
Her eyes widened as her gaze traveled from my flushed face down to the hem of the skirt.
For one painfully long second, neither of us spoke.
Then Sakura broke into the biggest grin I'd ever seen.
"Oh. My. God."
"Not a word," I hissed, face burning hot enough to cook eggs.
Her hands shot up in surrender. "I didn't say anything! But Yuki… you're adorable."
"Stop talking."
Sakura giggled, leaning against the doorframe like she'd won the lottery. "I knew you'd end up trying it on again. You like it, don't you?"
I tried to glare, but the warmth in my chest made it hard to stay mad. "I was just… testing it out."
"Sure you were."
I tugged at the stubborn zipper again. "Can you help me get this thing off, or are you just going to stand there laughing at me?"
Sakura crossed the room, brushing my hands aside with a playful smirk. "Fine, fine. Hold still."
Her fingers brushed against the back of my neck as she worked the zipper down, and I immediately regretted asking for help.
She was too close.
I felt her breath against my ear, the faint floral scent of her shampoo surrounding me.
I swallowed hard, hoping she didn't notice how tense I was.
"There," she whispered, the dress sliding off my shoulders with ease.
It pooled at my feet, leaving me in the oversized shirt I'd thrown on earlier.
I bent down quickly, scooping the dress up and hanging it in the closet as casually as possible.
Sakura flopped onto my bed, grinning like she'd just won a prize.
"You know," she said, watching me carefully, "if you ever do want to wear that outside, I won't judge."
I shot her a flat look. "That's not happening."
She raised an eyebrow, tapping her chin. "Hmm. We'll see."
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The next day, the changes felt… different.
I woke up shorter – again – and had to adjust the drawstrings on my sweatpants just to keep them from falling off.
But this time, there was something else.
I didn't just look different. I felt… lighter.
I tied my hair into a loose ponytail, blinking at the mirror. The person staring back wasn't just smaller – they looked happier.
It scared me.
I pulled on a hoodie and went to meet Sakura at the campus café, hoping some caffeine would distract me from my spiraling thoughts.
She was already there, sitting at a table near the window with two steaming cups.
I plopped into the chair across from her. "I think I'm officially child-sized now."
Sakura took a long sip from her cup, eyeing me over the rim. "You know, I think you're pulling off the whole petite look."
"Great. Just what I always wanted," I muttered, blowing on my coffee.
She grinned. "It's not bad, Yuki. You're… well, cute. You've got a kind of natural charm going for you."
My face heated again.
"Also," she continued, leaning closer, "you're the only person I know who can say 'I'm child-sized' and somehow make it attractive."
I choked on my coffee. "Sakura!"
She burst into laughter, smacking the table. "I'm kidding! Relax."
I wiped my mouth with a napkin, glaring. "You cannot just say things like that."
"Why not? I'm just being honest." Her eyes twinkled mischievously.
"Honesty is overrated."
"But flirting is fun."
I opened my mouth to argue but quickly shut it.
Because the way she was looking at me – soft, playful, a little too interested – made my heart pound in a way I didn't fully understand.
I took a long, steady sip of coffee, hoping she didn't notice the pink rising to my ears.
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Later that evening, Sakura invited herself over again.
Not that I minded.
It had become a routine – her staying late to monitor my progress, occasionally staying the night when she 'accidentally' fell asleep on my couch.
This time, though, she brought something new.
"What's that?" I asked, eyeing the small makeup bag she placed on the table.
Sakura beamed. "Makeover night!"
I immediately started backing away. "Nope. Absolutely not."
She grabbed my wrist before I could escape. "Come on, Yuki! It'll be fun!"
"For you, maybe!"
Sakura tugged me toward the couch, already rummaging through the bag. "Think of it as part of the experiment! You need to see how the transformation's affecting everything – including your skin tone and facial structure."
I raised an eyebrow. "And that requires mascara?"
"Science is mysterious like that."
Before I could argue further, she pulled me down, sitting cross-legged in front of me with a look that meant resistance is futile.
"Fine," I muttered, crossing my arms. "But if you poke my eye out, I'm suing."
Sakura giggled. "Deal."
As she carefully applied foundation, her hands were impossibly gentle.
For once, we didn't talk.
And I realized…
I liked this.
Maybe too much.
Because the way Sakura's fingers brushed against my skin, the way her eyes softened as she worked – it made me feel something I wasn't sure I was ready to admit.
Not yet.