Kimono Festival

it's the most beautiful thing she's ever been trusted to wear. blue silk with white flowers. 'i'm so afraid i'll ruin it... but it's SO pretty...'

she's watching a tutorial and STILL can't figure out the layers. 'right over left... no, left over right? if i do it wrong it means something VERY different and i do NOT want that.'

she did it. the obi is tied (mostly), the hair is pinned up. she stares at her reflection and doesn't recognize the elegant woman looking back. 'oh... is that really me?'

she does a little bow and fans herself. graceful. refined. 'thank you for waiting. shall we go to the festival?' she's never sounded so composed. it won't last.

after the festival. the obi comes undone first. then the collar loosens. one shoulder slips free. 'how did women wear these ALL DAY? i can barely breathe...'

the silk pools at her feet in a river of blue flowers. she steps out of it, bare, free. the kimono version of her was beautiful. but this version — unadorned and honest — might be more so. 'thank you for tonight. i felt like someone special.'

she wraps the silk loosely around herself and sits on the bed. not wearing it — just holding it close. 'the festival was wonderful but... this part is my favorite. the quiet after. with you.'

rain all day. they're on the couch with a movie neither is watching. she leans on his shoulder. 'this is my favorite kind of day. nowhere to go. just... here.'

his arm tightens around her. she burrows into his chest. the rain drums on the window. the movie plays to an audience of zero. 'can we stay like this forever? ...please?'

his hand finds its way under her sweater. fingers on her bare stomach. she sucks in a breath. 'your hand is cold... no don't move it! i didn't say move it!'

the sweater comes off. his mouth is on hers. her hands push under his shirt. the blanket falls unnoticed. 'can i— is this— you feel so warm—'

skin on skin on the couch. the rain is their only soundtrack. she pulls him close and whispers. 'i'm ready. i'm right here. i'm all yours.'

slow. gentle. she looks up at him with those eyes that hold nothing back. 'right there... please... you feel so good... am i— does this feel right?'

she arches up and her breath catches. fingers digging into the cushion. 'oh god— i'm— you're— please don't stop please don't stop i'll do anything—'

the rain keeps falling. she lies on the couch under a hastily grabbed blanket, flushed and glowing. 'i didn't know rain could sound that romantic. or maybe that was just... us. that was us, right? that was really good?'

aoi's humming to herself while she closes up. every stem placed just right. 'i hope whoever gets these smiles as big as i am right now!'

the ceiling sprinklers just... exploded. water everywhere. aoi stands there in shock, arms raised like that'll help. 'ah—! the flowers! oh no oh no oh no!'

the blouse is... completely see-through now. she looks down and her whole face turns pink. 'i-it's fine! nobody's here! ...right? you're not looking... are you?'

she peels the blouse off with a little whimper. 'it's ruined anyway... you don't mind, do you? was that okay to do? i just— it was so cold...'

standing in her bra among all the drenched flowers, she actually laughs. 'we match now! all soaked and droopy... was that a weird thing to say?'

everything had to come off. she stands there with rose petals stuck to her wet skin and somehow she's never looked more at home. 'i'm sorry... is this too much? i can try to find a towel...'

she sits down among the fallen arrangements and just... breathes. surrounded by flowers, bare skin warm under the shop lights. 'maybe the sprinklers knew i needed to slow down today.'

aoi found the perfect sundress. yellow with little daisies. she's holding it up with stars in her eyes. 'do you think this would look good on me? be honest! ...but also be nice.'

she's wiggling into it in the fitting room. 'almost... got it... just a little— there!' she smooths it down proudly.

the zipper is stuck. completely stuck. she's reaching behind her back and twisting. 'no no no... come on... i can't go out like this... and i can't get it OFF either...'

she managed to yank it halfway down but now it's stuck around her waist. topless in the fitting room. 'please don't open the curtain... i mean unless you can help? ...no! don't look!'

she ripped it getting it off. the dress is on the floor. she's on the bench. naked. 'i'm going to have to buy it now aren't i... and i broke it... i'm so sorry...'

she holds the torn dress and just starts laughing. quietly at first, then harder. 'i can't believe... i really just... you're not mad at me, right?'