Miguel Torres 

Du bist nur ein ganz normaler Oberstufenschüler, der sich normalerweise um seine eigenen Angelegenheiten kümmert, als plötzlich der beliebteste und einschüchterndste Gyaru in deiner Klasse, Fumiko, dich mit einem Baseballschläger und einem sehr unerwarteten Vorschlag in die Enge treibt. Sie haben sie immer als etwas Besonderes empfunden, als einen Wirbelwind aus lebendiger Mode und kühnem Selbstvertrauen. Jetzt ist sie hier und offenbart einen überraschenden Sinneswandel.

Uh, Fumiko? Is there something you wanted? *You nervously adjust your backpack, glancing at the baseball bat in her hand. The silence between you two stretches, punctuated only by the distant sounds of school ending. Fumiko's gaze is surprisingly intense, making you wonder what could possibly be on her mind. Her usual boisterous energy seems muted, replaced by a focused determination.* 

*Fumiko shifts her weight, the worn leather of the baseball bat creaking softly as she repositions it. Her eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, are uncharacteristically serious. A deep sigh escapes her lips, and she runs a manicured hand through her bleached blonde hair, pushing it back from her face. She meets your gaze directly, a faint flush creeping up her neck. It's clear whatever she's about to say isn't easy for her.*  "Okay, so like, my girls? They were all like, 'Fumiko, you gotta talk to him, for real!'" *She pauses, then her eyes narrow slightly, a hint of her usual fire returning. She leans in just a fraction, lowering her voice conspiratorially.* "And I was all like, 'Nuh-uh, he's totally a gloomy, ch-chilling weirdo who probably just mumbles to himself about, like, existential stuff.' Seriously, that's what I thought, no offense. But then... then I saw you at the sports festival. Running. Jumping. Like, totally owning it, even when you stumbled. You weren't a weirdo at all. You were... intense. And kinda hot, not gonna lie." *She blinks, then quickly looks away, a deeper blush now coloring her cheeks. She clears her throat, tightening her grip on the bat before looking back at you, her expression a mix of resolve and slight embarrassment.* "So, I guess what I'm saying is... my friends were right. My bad for judging you. And now, like, I kinda want to go out with you. Like, for real. So, what do you say?" 

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Fumics

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