I didn't take the outfit off right away.
After Sakura's quiet confession – that this was okay, that I was okay – I lingered in front of the mirror, tugging at the hem of the sweater as if doing so would make sense of the thoughts swirling in my head.
Her words echoed inside me, soft but persistent.
"If this is something you want… it's okay."
I wasn't sure what I wanted.
But standing there, in a skirt and sweater that somehow fit too well – I didn't hate it.
I glanced sideways at Sakura, who had busied herself rifling through more racks. Her twin-tails bounced as she moved, fingers brushing over fabrics like she was on a mission.
My heart did this weird little flutter.
"What are you looking for now?" I asked, breaking the silence.
She peeked over her shoulder with a smile. "Shoes. You can't just wear sneakers with a cute outfit like that."
I sighed. "We're not actually buying this stuff, right?"
Her smile didn't fade. "We'll see."
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Twenty minutes later, I caved.
The bag swung lightly in my hand as we walked out of the store, Sakura practically glowing with satisfaction.
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," I muttered.
"It wasn't that hard," she teased, bumping her shoulder against mine. "Admit it. You liked how it looked."
I glanced away, unable to meet her gaze. "I didn't hate it."
She beamed. "That's progress."
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Here's the next chapter, adding more romance, introspection, and a deepening bond between Yuki and Sakura.
Chapter 9: A Different Reflection
I didn't take the outfit off right away.
After Sakura's quiet confession – that this was okay, that I was okay – I lingered in front of the mirror, tugging at the hem of the sweater as if doing so would make sense of the thoughts swirling in my head.
Her words echoed inside me, soft but persistent.
"If this is something you want… it's okay."
I wasn't sure what I wanted.
But standing there, in a skirt and sweater that somehow fit too well – I didn't hate it.
I glanced sideways at Sakura, who had busied herself rifling through more racks. Her twin-tails bounced as she moved, fingers brushing over fabrics like she was on a mission.
My heart did this weird little flutter.
"What are you looking for now?" I asked, breaking the silence.
She peeked over her shoulder with a smile. "Shoes. You can't just wear sneakers with a cute outfit like that."
I sighed. "We're not actually buying this stuff, right?"
Her smile didn't fade. "We'll see."
Twenty minutes later, I caved.
The bag swung lightly in my hand as we walked out of the store, Sakura practically glowing with satisfaction.
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," I muttered.
"It wasn't that hard," she teased, bumping her shoulder against mine. "Admit it. You liked how it looked."
I glanced away, unable to meet her gaze. "I didn't hate it."
She beamed. "That's progress."
Back at my apartment, the bag sat untouched on the desk.
I avoided looking at it, throwing myself into anything else – cooking dinner, washing dishes, even reorganizing the bookshelves I hadn't touched in months.
Sakura stretched lazily on the couch, watching me with an amused glint in her eye. "You're avoiding it."
"I'm not avoiding it," I lied, aggressively scrubbing a mug.
"Yuki."
I sighed, finally setting the cup down. "Fine. Maybe I'm overthinking."
She sat up, legs crossed beneath her. "What's going on in that head of yours?"
I wiped my hands on a dish towel, leaning against the counter. "I don't know. It's just… weird."
"Weird how?"
I hesitated, searching for the right words. "It feels… normal. Wearing that stuff. Looking like this."
Sakura didn't say anything right away. She just listened, nodding quietly.
"And I don't know if that's because of the formula or if it's something else," I continued, my voice softening. "But the more I change, the less I feel like I'm losing something. It's like I'm finding parts of myself I didn't know were missing."
Her violet eyes softened, and for a moment, the teasing glint faded. "Yuki…"
I shook my head, running a hand through my hair. "Sorry. I know that sounds dramatic."
"It's not." Sakura stood, crossing the room until she was right in front of me. "It's not dramatic at all."
She reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. The touch was light – barely there – but it made my breath catch.
Her hand lingered for just a second before she pulled away, tucking both hands behind her back.
"You know," she said with a playful tilt of her head, "if you do end up liking all this… I don't think it would be a bad thing."
I swallowed hard. "You don't?"
She shook her head, smiling softly. "Nope. I think you'd make an adorable girl."
My face went hot, and I turned away to hide it. "You have to stop saying things like that."
"Why?" She giggled, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction. "It's true."
I groaned. "You're impossible."
"And you're cute."
"Sakura!"
She laughed, throwing herself dramatically onto the couch. "Fine, fine! I'll stop."
I exhaled, trying to calm my racing heart.
But the warmth that lingered from her touch – and her words – stayed with me long after she left.
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The next morning, something shifted.
It wasn't physical – the shrinking had slowed, and by now I barely reached 148 cm.
No, this was different.
I stood in front of the mirror, brushing out the tangles in my hair.
And for the first time since this all started…
I didn't feel like I was disappearing.
I felt like I was coming into focus.
There was something comforting in the reflection. The sweater hugged my small frame, my hair tied loosely with a ribbon Sakura had left behind.
I tilted my head, watching the girl in the mirror mimic the motion.
It wasn't a stranger staring back at me.
It was just… me.
The realization hit softly – like the first snowfall of the season, quiet but impossible to ignore.
Maybe… this wasn't a mistake.
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Sakura showed up later that afternoon, holding two bags of takeout.
"I brought ramen!" she announced, kicking off her shoes by the door.
I raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said you were on a diet."
She smirked. "I was. Then I remembered carbs are delicious."
We settled on the couch, bowls in hand, as some random drama played in the background.
Halfway through slurping noodles, Sakura glanced at me. "So… what did you end up doing with the clothes from yesterday?"
I shifted, poking at the broth with my chopsticks. "They're still in the bag."
She frowned. "Why haven't you worn them?"
I hesitated. "I guess I'm just… not sure if I'm ready."
Sakura set her bowl down, turning to face me fully. "Yuki. There's no rush. But if you are ready – even just a little – it's okay to take that step."
I met her gaze, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background.
The warmth in her eyes, the quiet understanding – it made me feel safer than I had in weeks.
"Thanks, Sakura."
Her lips curved into a small smile. "Anytime."
As the credits rolled on the drama, I made a quiet decision.
Later that night, after Sakura left, I opened the bag.
I pulled the lavender hoodie out first – the one with the bunny ears I'd sworn I wouldn't wear.
But as I slipped it over my head, standing alone in my apartment…
I smiled.
And this time, it wasn't because of the formula.