Chapter 3: Ability Three: Being Stupidly Cute

Outside, the streets were bustling as usual, but I barely noticed.

Akito tried to win me over a hangout by offering a treat in the arcade, but I passed. My destination was clear—a small female clothing store I’d passed by a hundred times.

But today, I have a reason to enter.

The bell above the door chimed as I stepped inside, the scent of new fabric hitting me immediately. Rows of neatly folded shirts, dresses, and skirts stretched out before me, each one tagged with prices that made my wallet cower.

I rubbed my chin. I haven't asked Ayase about her clothing size. Her blouse was such a mess that I couldn’t even guess her size, but maybe this store has something that would fit her…

I kept contemplating until I landed on a genius conclusion.

The apron she wore that day was mine. The size was large, and the way it hung crookedly on her waist definitely told it was too large for her fit.

Size "S" would do, right?

I wandered the aisles, my shoes thudding against the glinting tile floor. I picked out a few things that seemed practical—a pair of jeans, a couple of simple blouses, cutesy skirts and a warm cardigan. Nothing too fancy—just clothes with long sleeves. I remember that she still flinched when her scars were exposed, so short-sleeved blouses are unethical.

“Why am I even spending this much?” I internally whispered. I can’t even spoil myself with new underwear.

As I approached the counter, the cashier, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, gave me a curious look. “All for women? Are you shopping for someone special?”

For a second, I imagined Ayase holding the bag herself, her eyes bright, her voice soft. “You picked this out for me?”

I almost threw up, but I chose to swallow the feeling. I will not allow myself to be in that situation.

“Not really,” I said, sliding the clothes across the counter. "That's for my little sister."

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, ringing up the items in silence. When she handed me the bag, I mumbled a quick thanks before turning around.

Hell, that was close.

Just as I was about to leave, a pale pink earring caught my eye. I told myself it was dumb to spend more and more on frivolous things.

Then I bought it anyway.

I am really dumb for taking it just because it resembled Ayase’s hair.

***

The sun was dipping below the horizon by the time I got home, the sky painted in shades of orange and pink. The apartment building loomed ahead, its worn facade blending into the gray monotony of the city.

Climbing the stairs, I balanced the shopping bag in one hand and fumbled with my keys in the other.

My first thoughts were: Would she be okay with these? Would she like them?

What if she thinks what I bought is weird? What if it’s not her style at all?

I paused just outside the door.

Nevermind. I could just buy her another set if she wanted.

I brushed the thoughts off and pushed the door open.

“Ayase?” I called out as I stepped inside, my voice breaking the stillness of the room.

I half-expected silence or, worse, to find the place empty. Instead, I was greeted by the muffled sounds of TV. As I walked closer and closer, the thrilling music and screams of people filled up the room.

“Ayase?” I called out, setting the shopping bag down the corridor.

Then I saw her.

She was curled up on the couch, clutching a throw pillow like it was a lifeline, her wide eyes glued to the TV. Tears welled from her eyes as she trembled, clearly on the verge of a breakdown.

She wore one black shirt several sizes larger than hers, and jeans that fit loosely at her hips. Her hair was finally arranged and reeked of the shampoo I am using.

Yet, her natural sweet rosy scent stood dominant.

Ayase wearing my own clothes wasn’t all bad. In fact, she looked downright cute. My heart gave a traitorous little thud. I told it to shut up.

“Ayase?” I repeated, now doused in confusion. I turned to the TV, a woman was being dragged into the darkness by some grotesque creature. The soundtrack swelled with ominous strings.

“W-Why…why would they do that?! Ishida-san!” she wailed at the screen, her voice cracking.

It finally made sense that she’s easing up after doing household chores. The living room is well arranged, the movie albums are neatly stacked, the portraits on the wall that hung dusty and webbed were polished.

The washing machine rumbled.

I doubled up next to her, my eyes starting to glue to the TV. “You like horror?”

“I don’t know!” she shouted, her voice tinged with frustration. “I was trying to find something to watch, and the screen lit up, and this started playing!” She sniffled, holding up the remote like it was some alien artifact. “I didn’t know how to stop it!”

“You mean…you’ve been sitting here this whole time watching a horror movie because you couldn’t figure out how to change the channel?”

My first instinct coming in here was panic. Was she hurt? Was she scared? Did something happen while I was gone? And then she waved the remote like it was cursed. I was relieved.

In my life, I never gave myself the chance to screw things up this little, and just by observing how efficient she is at handling others but not herself, I definitely want to break down in laughter. Not even in years I would’ve found myself feeling this way.

“You’re such a dork, Ayase.”

She huffed, her cheeks flushed with indignation. “I tried pressing buttons, but they didn’t work the way I expected! And then…then that happened!” She pointed accusingly at the screen, where another poor soul was meeting a gruesome end.

My right palm finds its way towards my face, finally managing to compose myself.

“Ayase, you just need to press this.” I took the remote and hit the next button. The screen went from the horror movie to a cooking channel. “There, no monsters, no screaming, no weird music.”

She just pouted while I demonstrated changing channels.

The chef was fumbling with the recipes left and right in practiced movements, and the finished product was so hard to resist. Ayase leaned closer, her tear-streaked face still wary of the screen.

“That’s right…” I mumbled as I slouched back to my sofa. “I’m already dying of hunger.”

With a bolt of lightning Ayase clutched both of my shoulders in a tight grip, her eyes widening in panic as they met mine.

“You're…you're dying?!” she exclaimed, shaking me as tears started to well up in her eyes.

My bones rattled in protest. Was she always this strong?

“What?!” I groaned, terribly sketchy. “I’m not!”

“But you just said you were dying of hunger!” she exclaimed, her voice rising in alarm.

“Calm down!” as I did my best to push her away. “It’s hyperbole! I mean that I’m really hungry—not dying from it!”

She stared at me, her expression a mix of confusion and disbelief. “Why would you say something like that if it’s not true?!”

An unbelievable high temperature is steaming between us, drenching my back in sweat. I tried pushing her back but her firm grasp on my shoulders are like vices.

“It’s just a thing people say!” I exclaimed, pinching and pulling the skin of my arm. “Look, I’m fine. I promise.”

She didn’t look convinced. Her gaze darted between me and the cooking show on TV, where the chef was flamboyantly plating a perfectly roasted chicken.

For someone so efficient, she’s terrible at being alone…maybe that’s why I don’t want to chase her out at this point.

When everything calmed down, I handed her the bag of clothes.

“Here. These might fit better than my oversized stuff...just don’t cry while trying them on, okay?”

She nodded.

But what she did next is something I never expected.

She started pulling up and undressing herself right in front of me.

Blood trickled on my nose as my instincts kicked in.

Unseen parts of her skin almost identical to powdered snow surfaced.

And before she could even expose the…the…l-lump of flesh in front of her completely, I tugged the black shirt down and let out a panicked shriek.

“No! No! You are not allowed to change in front of a guy! Gosh, you didn’t even wear a bra!”

My cheeks burned as I turned away. Every part of me objected to peek at her further.

“Uhm…it’s okay if it’s with you, Ishida-san. I trust you after all.”

“Trust you my ass!” I snapped. “We’re not even lovers to begin with!”

Saying that, we fell into an impasse.

And I can see her flustered face in my peripheral vision.

“So if we’re already lovers, I don’t even need to wear clothes?”

My brain exploded. There was nothing left. Just static noise and the blaring siren of every single moral code I had being set on fire.

My ears steamed and my nose bled this time, so I pushed her away softly.

“Just go to my room and change!”

“Okay…”

She walked slowly and when I heard my room door shut, I heaved a long sigh.

“Haaaah~!”

My heart was eerily beating, and sweat trickled around me.

“So freaking innocent…”

Now that this happened, seriously, is being stupidly cute one of her uncanny abilities too?

If she keeps this up, I’ll die—not from hunger, but from a heart attack.