Chapter 3: That Hoodie is Starting to Smell Like Feelings
Yumi didn't return the hoodie.
She told herself it was temporary — she'd bring it back when it was washed, dried, and folded with dignity. But three days passed, and it stayed on her bedroom chair like a moody ghost. Or worse: a memento.
It didn't help that she kept sniffing it like a lunatic.
Why does it smell like smoke and winter and regrets?
By Thursday, she'd worn it twice around the house. By Friday, she'd started answering texts while curled up in it like a lovesick anime side character. And by Saturday morning, she was panicking.
Because she had dreamed about him.
Akiro.
And in the dream, he smiled.
Not smirked. Not glared. Smiled.
And now her brain was officially broken.
"Earth to Yumi?" Reiko waved a hand in front of her face during lunch.
Yumi blinked. "Huh?"
"You spaced out again," Reiko said, narrowing her eyes. "Was it another dream about Scary Kenzaki? Please tell me he didn't kiss you this time."
Yumi turned red. "He didn't! Also… how did you know there were other dreams?"
"You just confirmed it, genius."
Yumi groaned, slamming her forehead into the cafeteria table. "This is bad. This is really bad."
"Yeah," Reiko said, sipping her milk carton. "You're in love."
"I'm not in—!"
Reiko held up a finger. "Let's review the facts: Hoodie-stealing? Check. Blushing? Check. Defending his scary butt when people talk trash? Double check. Girl, your heart's gone rogue."
Yumi covered her face. "What do I even say to him now?"
"Try 'Hey, I think I'm developing a hoodie-based emotional dependency on you. Want to walk me home and possibly ruin my reputation?'"
Yumi groaned louder.
After school, Yumi hovered near the front gates. Her heart thudded like a broken washing machine. She wasn't sure what she was waiting for.
Until she saw him.
Akiro walked past the crowd with the same indifference as always — shoulders hunched, earbuds in, eyes low. The other students parted around him like he was radioactive.
Why does that make me want to talk to him even more? she thought, both confused and irritated by her own feelings.
She stepped into his path before she could second-guess herself.
He stopped. Slowly pulled out one earbud.
"…You," he muttered.
Yumi cleared her throat. "I, um… I still have your hoodie."
Akiro shrugged. "I told you to keep it."
She hesitated. "Well… I don't want to owe you. So…"
She held it out. Folded. Clean. Slightly hugged. Only twenty-seven times.
He looked at it. Then at her.
"…Did you sleep in it?" he asked, tone dry.
Yumi turned bright red. "W-What? N-No! I was just… testing the fabric! It's surprisingly breathable!"
A pause.
Then — the corners of Akiro's mouth twitched.
Yumi froze.
Wait… was that a smile? A half-smile? A negative smile? I don't know, but I saw something move.
He took the hoodie from her hands. His fingers brushed hers. Cold. Rough. Real.
"…Thanks," he said, almost too quiet to hear.
And then, before she could process anything else, he added:
"You can borrow it again. If you want."
He put one earbud back in and walked away.
Yumi stood there, blinking.
And then she whispered to herself:
"...What the hell is happening to me?"