Write me a Love Letter Pt. 2

The little bell above the door jingled as we stepped into the stationery store, announcing our arrival to a room full of pastel shelves and soft lighting. The scent of paper, ink, and freshly cut cardboard filled the air—surprisingly pleasant, in a way I hadn't expected.

Alice took a deep breath, eyes already glinting with excitement. "Ah… I love this place. There's just something so elegant about well-crafted stationery."

"You sound like a noblewoman picking out fine wine," I muttered.

"Why, thank you," she said, flipping her hair with mock grace. "Now come, darling. Let's find the perfect quill to write our tragic love letters."

"W-wha... Don't call me darling. People are already staring."

Sure enough, a trio of kids passing by glanced at us with vague curiosity. I wasn't sure if it was the way Alice clung to my arm like we were married, or how effortlessly she'd slipped into that tone couples usually used when they were a little too into each other.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" she cooed, leaning in slightly. "Getting flustered again?"

I nearly stumbled back onto a shelf behind me. "S-sweetheart...?!"

"Hehe~ Watching you get riled up like that has become one of my greatest joys. Tell me, Aikami. Do you not like it when I call you 'sweetheart?' Most people do."

"Well, most people use shopping baskets to get what they want, not emotional manipulation."

"Oh, the horrors. You're just mad because it works."

Alice let go of my arm and floated over to the nearest aisle, her fingers already running along rows of neatly arranged gel pens and limited-edition notepads. I trailed behind her, trying not to look like I was part of this chaotic stationery mission, even though I clearly was.

"Hm... What do you think about this one?" she asked, holding up a fancy black pen.

"Depends on the price tag," I replied.

"...Seriously?"

"What? I'm a frugal man, you know. I can't be dropping three thousand yen on just one pen. A cheap one that works is all I need."

"Tch, you're so lame." Alice twirled a sleek, gold-accented pen between her fingers before flashing me a smirk. "Here, Aikami. What about this one?"

I hesitated, eyeing the sample notebook on the counter. “I don't really care what pen I use.”

"What a bland existence you lead!" Without giving me a choice, she plucked a pen from the display and held it out to me. "Here. Write something. Anything."

"Eh? No, that's weird. Especially on a sample notebook."

"Oh, come on. How is that any weirder than writing notes in your own notebook?"

"Because only I can see my notebook. This…"

My gaze drifted down to the open sample notebook. Scribbled across its pages were the random musings and doodles left behind by people who had come before us. Most of them were what you'd expect—cliché, cheesy, romantic nonsense.

Things like 'So-and-so was here!' or little hearts encircling a couple's initials. Even dates that probably marked the start of someone's relationship.

"Anyway, I'm not doing it," I mumbled, averting my eyes.

Alice tapped her chin, pretending to ponder, but the moment whatever ridiculous idea popped into her head, I could see it clear as day. A wicked smile spread across her face. That was never a good sign.

"How about this?" she purred. "Write something for me… and I'll do whatever you ask, sweetheart."

I jolted so hard I stumbled backward, bumping into a shelf stacked with notebooks and knocking a bunch of them onto the floor.

"Whoa—! Shit..." I scrambled to gather them while a couple of people peeked around the corner to see what all the noise was about.

"Oh my~ That was quite the reaction," Alice said, hand over her mouth as she laughed in delight. "Not a bad offer, don't you think?"

"How am I supposed to react to a joke like that?" I groaned.

"A joke?" she tilted her head. "What made you think it was a joke?"

My body froze. I turned slowly to look at her.

She stood there, smiling so casually—yet there was something undeniably alluring about the way she looked at me. Like she knew exactly what she was doing.

"I meant it," she said softly. "Indulge me just this once… and I'll do whatever you ask."

"Alice…" I muttered, flustered. "T-that's not something you should say… not even as a joke."

"Why not?" she asked, tone innocent yet teasing. "What is it that you're planning on asking for?"

Does she even realize how dangerous those words sound?

No—she definitely does. She knows exactly what she's saying, and still chooses to say it. All with that same amused, unreadable expression.

God, what even is this situation? What am I supposed to do with this? How am I supposed to respond?

I took a slow breath to calm myself. "Whatever. Just give me the stupid pen."

"Hehe~ Alright. Here you go."

I took the pen from her hand and uncapped it. Alice, satisfied with my reluctant cooperation, picked up a different pen for herself and turned to a fresh page in another sample notebook.

For a moment, we both fell into silence, the only sound being the quiet scratching of ink against paper.

I kept it simple—just my name in neat, small handwriting: Aikami Enzou.

Alice, sitting beside me, peeked over my shoulder and let out a soft chuckle. "You're so predictable."

"Well, what did you expect me to write?" I retorted. "A love poem?"

She smirked but said nothing. Instead, she held up her own notebook, tilting it just enough for me to see what she had written in elegant, flowing script:

"What if fate had no say in it?"

I blinked. My brain took a second to process the words. Then another second to realize how vague—yet undeniably provocative—they were.

Alice, ever the enigma, rested her chin on her hand, watching me with amusement as I struggled for a response.

"Uh… what?" I finally managed.

Her smirk widened. "Hmm? Does this confuse you?"

"Well... a bit. It's just… what is that supposed to mean?"

She hummed, tapping the end of her pen against her chin. "I wonder."

"Alice..."

"What?" she chuckled. "I'm just posing a question. A simple thought experiment."

"Yeah, well, your 'thought experiment' sounds a little too much like... f-flirting."

"Sounds like flirting?" She leaned in slightly, voice dipping into something softer, teasing. "Aikami, darling... Was I flirting?"

I swallowed. Hard.

Alice, seeing my reaction, let out a delighted giggle. "Oh, I love~ that face."

"You're insufferable."

"And yet, here you are," she sang. "Still entertaining me. Seems like you're really enjoying this. Am I right?"

"Yes, you are."

"Hehe, ouch."

I glanced at her words again. What if fate had no say in it?

It was just a joke. Just another one of Alice's games.

…Right?

And yet, I couldn't help but wonder... Was she being serious?

We spent another few minutes looking around only to see the same thing over and over again. But to Alice, each row was a completely different experience.

"Do we really need ten different kinds of pens?" I asked, watching her pick up one after another, examining each with a critical eye.

"No," she replied without hesitation. "But do I want ten different kinds of pens? Absolutely."

"…You sound like Lana."

"Oh please, I have far more refined tastes," she said, holding up a pen with glittery ink. "This one has stardust in it."

"That's glitter."

"Stardust."

I rolled my eyes, but deep down, I couldn't help but smile a little. There was something oddly comforting about watching her get so absorbed in something as simple as notebooks and pens—like a slice of normalcy I never expected from a goddess.

"Hey, what about this one?" I asked, picking up a plain, black notebook from the shelf beside me. "Minimalist. Practical. Professional."

She turned to look, then immediately wrinkled her nose. "Boring. You'd probably write grocery lists in that."

"Yeah, and you'd probably write poetry in a journal shaped like a cupcake."

She gasped. "Oh my gods, do they have that here?!"

"That... That wasn't a suggestion."

But it was too late—she was already darting off toward another section, leaving me to hold her growing pile of purchases. Pens, journals, stickers, even a tiny plush keychain.

Every now and then, someone in the store would glance at us with a soft smile, probably thinking something outlandish.

If only they knew the truth.

Or maybe… even I wasn't so sure anymore.