"Sometimes a little chaos is just another way to say 'I like you'."
Yui had a bad feeling from the moment she stepped onto campus the next morning.
It wasn't anything obvious — no alarm bells, no thunderclouds.
Just...a sense that something was off.
Students were clustered in small groups, whispering and snickering behind their hands.
Teachers wore strained, amused smiles.
Yui clutched her bag tighter, heart pounding.
'Did I do something wrong?' she fretted.
She slipped through the hallways as unobtrusively as possible, aiming straight for her classroom.
She almost made it.
Almost.
"Yui-chan~"
The sing-song voice made her jump a foot in the air.
Mika materialized out of nowhere, falling into step beside her with the casual grace of a cat.
Yui squeaked.
"M-morning..." she stammered.
Mika flashed her a wolfish grin.
"You look tense," she observed. "Something wrong?"
Yui opened her mouth to answer—and froze.
Because Mika was wearing a sticker on her forehead.
A very large, very pink sticker.
It read, in bold sparkly letters:
> "World's Cutest Criminal!"
Yui blinked.
Mika raised an eyebrow.
"You okay?" she asked, completely unaware.
Yui tried to speak.
She tried so hard.
But the words tangled into a helpless, breathless giggle.
Mika looked so ridiculous—tall, cool, effortlessly handsome—and yet there she was, strutting around with a pink glitter sticker like a prize-winning toddler.
Yui clamped both hands over her mouth, shoulders shaking.
Mika frowned in confusion.
"What?" she demanded. "What's so funny?"
Yui just shook her head frantically, unable to stop giggling.
Mika narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"You're hiding something," she accused, stepping closer.
Yui squeaked again, backing up—and bumped into someone.
She turned to apologize—and found half the class staring at them, smothering laughter.
Mika finally caught a glimpse of herself in a window.
She squinted.
Paused.
And groaned.
"Lunaaaaa!" she shouted down the hallway.
Somewhere distant, a mischievous cackle echoed.
Mika sighed, scrubbing her hand over her face.
"Luna's my childhood friend," she muttered to Yui. "Chaos incarnate."
Yui was still trying to breathe.
"I'm gonna kill her," Mika grumbled, yanking the sticker off.
She turned to Yui, cheeks faintly pink, looking sheepish.
"You could've warned me, you know."
"I—I couldn't," Yui gasped, still hiccupping giggles. "You—you looked so serious!"
Mika chuckled reluctantly.
"Guess it's worth it if you're laughing," she said.
Yui's smile faltered.
"You...you did that on purpose?"
Mika shrugged, pocketing the sticker casually.
"Maybe."
Yui stared at her.
"You're weird," she said finally, but it came out soft, almost affectionate.
Mika grinned.
"Better weird than boring, right?"
Yui ducked her head, smiling shyly.
---
During lunch break:
Yui sat on the bench behind the library again, sandwich in hand.
She was halfway through it when a shadow fell over her.
She looked up—and promptly turned red.
Mika stood there, holding a small, crumpled bag.
"Peace offering," she said, tossing it into Yui's lap.
Yui blinked.
She peeked inside.
A strawberry milk carton and a tiny, adorable panda-shaped cookie stared back at her.
"I heard from a little bird," Mika said airily, "that you like cute snacks."
Yui flushed deeper.
"T-thank you," she whispered, hugging the bag to her chest.
Mika plopped down beside her, sprawling like a lazy cat.
"So," she said, picking a blade of grass and twirling it between her fingers, "what's your dream, Yui-chan?"
Yui blinked.
"My...dream?"
Mika nodded.
"You know. Big, cheesy, impossible stuff."
Yui fidgeted.
"...I want to open a little flower shop someday," she said finally, voice barely above a whisper. "Nothing big. Just...something pretty. Quiet."
Mika tilted her head thoughtfully.
"That suits you," she said. "You're like a flower yourself."
Yui turned crimson.
"And you?" she asked, desperate to change the subject.
Mika laughed.
"I wanna see everything," she said. "Every city. Every ocean. Every dumb little coffee shop. Everything."
She tossed the blade of grass into the air, watching it spin.
"And maybe," she added, "have someone to drag along with me."
Yui hugged her knees to her chest, heart fluttering wildly.
'Is she... Is she saying...'
Mika grinned sideways at her, reading her mind effortlessly.
"Don't look so scared," she teased. "It's not a proposal yet."
Yui buried her face in her knees.
Mika laughed again — warm, genuine, beautiful.
The sun filtered through the leaves, dappled golden and soft.
The air smelled like grass and summer and something sweeter Yui couldn't name.
Maybe happiness.
Maybe Mika.
Maybe both.